The Improvement Plan

One

Hope walked along the busy sidewalk. She was still acclimating to the number of people that were up early in the morning in Chicago. The L Train shouted above her as she moved along, hands deep in the pockets of her jeans. The September breeze blew her blonde curls around her head as she moved along. Shops were opening up around her and the streets were becoming packed with cars full of people rushing around. It was nothing like the small Texan town she came from. 

Hope was sure the people at her new school were nothing like the school she attended up until the end of her Junior year. The principal had tried his best to warn her mother of the damage that can be caused by moving a person to a different school during their last year, but her mom did not feel she could stay their any longer, especially when her Aunt offered to rent her an affordable apartment in a different city, in a completely different state. Hope would not tell her mom how hard it was to adjust or that she did not want to. Not when she knew how badly her mom needed the change and tried so hard to relieve Hope of the stress of moving.

She sighed as she reached the front doors of her high school and pulled the schedule out that she had folded into a small square in her pocket along with a tiny map of the school's layout. She was trying her best to blend but she knew she was already failing. She was clearly too old to be a freshman coming in and she happened to be the only person within eyesight wearing cowgirl boots. She noticed several eyes on her and walked quickly inside and down the hallway. The school had stairs, which she could not help but feel was a nightmare waiting to happen, and walked up carefully to her locker numbered 436, where she managed to get the combination wrong ten times before giving up, and made her way to her Calculus class. 

She was not particularly good at math but she tried. Hope knew education was important but it did not come easily to her. She decided to sit in the back of the class. People filed in one at a time or in small groups of two or three. Hope just sat there, the new girl sitting in the back with dirty blonde curls, hazel eyes, and a heavy accent. The only one dressed in worn cowgirl boots, some old jeans, and a flowy shirt. Hope sighed and opened her notebook as the bell rang and pulled out a pencil that she began to fidget with.

"I am Mr. Wilder and welcome to calculus," A few people groaned and a guy mumbled great under his breath. "I hope you like math."

He smiled at the guy who mumbled, causing him to shrink down in his desk. He was an attractive teacher with a full head of curly blonde hair and a professional appearance, yet still somehow radiating boyish charm. It was obvious he was young. Maybe too young to be teaching high school student possibly less than five years younger than him. Hope's previous math teacher was an older southern man who also doubled as the school's football coach."Also, I would like to welcome our new student-"

The door opened, interrupting Mr. Wilder's announcement of the new student, Hope Gibbon's. She almost sighed with relief. As much as she enjoyed socializing at home she had grown up with those she had gone to school with her whole life. She had always known them and their parents all knew each other. She was out of comfort zone and was not ready to be pushed out of it any further than she already was.

"And it is not this kid," he said about the guy who had just walked in late. He took the late slip form read it. "Welcome, Mr. Alex Denburg. Nice to see you decided to join us. It's only the first day and I am going to request that you do not make this an everyday thing."

The kid nodded once under his hood before scanning the classroom for a seat. There were only two open, one next to a girl in a pink shirt and one next to Hope. Hope watched as the other girl put her backpack in the chair almost like she didn't want Alex to sit there and she couldn't help but feel confused.