The Lost Soul

Chapter 11

--Greyson's POV--

"Grey! The phone is for you!" My mother shouts from downstairs, not sounding particularly pleased. I roll over and grab the cordless phone from my desk, turn it on, and put it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mr Winters. This is Mr Hecox, your Principal."

I nearly drop the phone. I had expected Finn, not the principal of my school. He barely ever makes house calls, and never for good reasons. He always makes me nervous.

"Oh," I say, my voice nearly shaking. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Well Greyson, I'm not going to sugar-coat this for you. I'm calling concerning your grades."

"My grades?" I ask nervously.

"Yes, it seems as though you are not passing all of your courses, Mr Winter." Hecox talks in an accusative voice.

"Oh?" I knew that already. With Faye gone, I haven't been doing so hot in math. My chemistry mark isn't doing too well, either.

"Yes, your marks have dropped significantly since the beginning of the year. I don't mean to be too direct, but has anything new been distracting you? A new girlfriend? Problems at home, perhaps?"

"No." I assure him. Why do people always think that there has to be a reason for grades to drop? "I just don't understand math that well."

"Regardless Mr Winters, I'm afraid you have to focus more on your education."
"I am focused on my education." I interject somewhat rudely. I do care about my marks; it's not like he knows more about myself and my intentions than I do.

"Son, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I'm going to have to suspend you from the basketball team – and all other sports – until you're passing all of your classes."

"Sir! This is my last year of school! I need this." I insist, desperation clear in my voice. I don't think Mr Hecox realizes how heavily my future relies on a sports scholarship.

"Sorry Greyson, but those are the rules. I can't change them just for you. Your main focus must be on your education. You can rejoin the team after you improve your marks."

"Yes sir." I spit.

"Have a good day, Mr Winters." Hecox hangs up, leaving me to listen to an empty dial tone. I slam the phone back on the dock in frustration. How am I supposed to get scholarships if I'm booted off the team? It's not like amazing math skills will magically shine through and win me any prizes. With my grades, the only place I'm headed is community college.

It's not that community college is a bad thing, it's just that I want to go places, I want to see things. I want to be remembered; whether it be for being good at basketball, or being the greatest poet of my generation, I want to be important.

I want to make a difference.

My mother's head pokes through my doorway.

"Who was that?" She asks. Like she doesn't already know.

"Mr Hecox, the principal." I say, groaning.

"What did he want?" Her face is unreadable, but her tone reveals a hint of nervousness.

"He told me that I'm off the basketball team until my marks are up."

"Oh," Mom says, not sympathetically. "Maybe it's for the best."Her looks of uneasiness has been replaced by smugness as she gazes at me with eyes that seem to say 'I-know-everything-so-you'd-better-listen-to-me'.