Nathan Kingston has been forgotten by the world. A dad that fucked off when he was young and a mother gone days at a time with work he feels alone. Especially since he goes to the most elite private school in the city on scholarship. He's falling do...
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Ivy Matthews
"Ivy Matthews to the counselor's office. Ivy Matthews, please report to the counselor's office." The announcement comes on the overhead speakers of the lunchroom causing everyone to stare at me while I have a bite of Mac and Cheese halfway to my mouth.
I give a hesitant look to Dylan who just shrugs and takes another bite of her food.
Nervously, I pack my laptop and the rest of my lunch into my bag before hitting Dylan with a wave goodbye and slowly exiting the lunchroom. The walk to the counselor's office is way too fast and I wish I could walk back and forth a few times just to delay the inevitable. But, our counseling office has a large window that overlooks the hallway leading up to it so I'd be spotted anyway.
Opening the door with reluctance I make eye contact with the frizzy gray-haired counselor's aid and walk up to her desk, "Hi, I was called down here."
"Ivy Matthews?" She questions.
"The one and only." I try to joke but she doesn't seem in the mood for jokes.
"You can head on back, Mr. Fitzpatrick is waiting for you in his office." The second after the words leave her mouth she returns her attention to her computer screen, clicking away and not giving me one more iota of attention.
I make my way down the hallway full of offices, mentally giving myself a pep talk that everything is going perfectly and they just want to give me an excellent student award.
Yep. An exellent sudent award. For all the excellence I do here at this school.
Giving the door a few knocks and a wave to the window, Mr. Fitzpatrick motions me into his office. I open the door and close it behind me, sliding into the brown armchair and fidgeting with my fingers.
"Do you know why you were called in here, Ivy?" He asks, his hands folded on the desk.
"No, they just sounded over the loudspeaker at lunch that I had to come to your office. Why? Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble?" I word vomit, frantically scanning my brain for anything I could've done wrong or anything that was against school rules.
"Calm down, Ivy. You didn't do anything wrong. I've called you in here because your failing two of your classes, two classes that are core subjects and needed for graduation." He keeps speaking about the excellence of our school and how every student here should strive for greatness but I can't hear anything he says, my mind just running over the fact that I'm failing.
I'm failing? Not one but two classes? Two classes I need to graduate?
I've always known I wasn't the best at school, but I thought my grades were coasting at high C's, not F's.
I'm so screwed.
My mind is still running at a thousand miles an hour when I blurt out, "how do I fix this?"
