How Far We've Come

Chapter 27

    I wanted to throw my arms around the teacher that I hadn't seen in over four months, but I restrained myself, remembering Mrs. Callie telling me that he wasn't the biggest fan of hugs.

    His smile widened at the sight of our class. "It's good to be back," he agreed.

    As he hobbled into the room, I couldn't help but stare at our teacher who had been weakened so much by a traumatic brain injury, but still managed to make it back. I quietly sat down at a computer and logged on, averting my eyes. Whispers filled the classroom in high tones and excited voices.

    "Can you believe he's back?"

    "He looks so thin."

    "I wonder how he's feeling."

    I took a deep breath and turned to the front of the classroom where he was talking. He gave us a large smile and leaned heavily against the podium in front of him.

    "So I know everyone must be surprised that I am back so soon," he acknowledged. "But I made a surprisingly fast recovery. And mostly thanks to you guys, really."

    Thanks to us? What was he talking about?

    "You guys kept me going," he told us. "When things got too hard, I remembered all the Global students and how much they meant to me to encourage myself to work harder to recover. And I learned one valuable lesson from, well, almost dying."

    That sent a titter of laughs across the room.

    Mr. Rickman smiled. "I was never an unhealthy person, really. But, you never know what's going to happen. Even being so physically fit and healthy, I had trouble coming back from such a traumatic injury. And it was completely unexpected. So, live your life to the fullest, because you never know what will happen next."

    He waved his hand and got down from the podium, walking to the back of the classroom where Clary, Jessica, Lina, and I were sitting.

    "I can't believe you're back," I awkwardly told him.

    He laughed. "Trust me, I can't believe it either."

    With a small smile, I went back to studying for the HSA we would have in a matter of a few weeks.

    Clary pulled up a YouTube video. "Have you seen your YouTube tribute?" she inquired.

    Mr. Rickman raised his eyebrows. "My what now?"

    Lina laughed. "One of the kids in our grade created a video for you," she explained. "It's pretty funny."

    Clary played the video and Mr. Rickman raised his eyebrows, watching intently. When it finally finished, he let out a deep laugh. "That is certainly clever," he agreed. "Funny to think that I'm a viral video now."

    "Only in Prestwall," Jessica assured. I gave a small laugh and went back to my work.

    That evening, I studied for hours. This HSA was one of the main things that colleges would see on my transcript, and I was not about to do badly on it. I reviewed things from the beginning of the year all the way until things we learned last week. I studied harder than I ever had before.

    Our reunion with Mr. Rickman was short-lived as we spent the next few weeks cramming for the exams to come. Our grades were getting closer to being finalized and my worries over History escalated.

    One warm spring morning, I was looking out the bus, reciting for my Spanish oral in my mind when a thought came up. Looking at the passing trees, I thought back to our movie filming and turned on my phone, opening the Edline app.

    My fingers trembled as I clicked on the Honors US History button and my eyes landed on the average grade. I realized that the grades would be finalized today, and whatever I got in this class would affect me throughout the rest of high school. It would determine whether I got a perfect GPA or whether that would be lost. It would determine, by association, whether I could apply to certain colleges or not. It would change my life.

    But, I wasn't afraid anymore. After the past few weeks of crazy cramming and making up work from Assateague, I felt like I could do anything. If I didn't get an A for the quarter, I could just aim for an A on the exam. If I did get an A, then it proved once more that I could do anything if I put my mind to it. Taking a deep breath, I scrolled to the average grade.

    I had an A.

    I felt like whooping with joy, but I restrained myself, realizing that I was on a school bus full of sleepy kids who just wanted to get the year over with. I looked at the grade again, to assure myself that it really was an A and I wasn't imagining it. But it was. And not a bad A either, at 91.2%. I scrolled down to the grade that I got on the movie and smiled when I saw the comment.

    This movie was extremely well made. The scenery fits in perfectly with the time period and the issues are clearly portrayed. Without a doubt, this may be one of the best movies depicting the Greensboro Sit-Ins that I have seen in awhile.

    I grinned, scanning the rest of the comment when I spotted something that felt absolutely life changing. My heartbeat quickened and a sense of pride welled up in my chest as I read the last few lines.

    Unfortunately, the local movie fair is not in season at this time of year. But, if it was, I would highly recommend this movie to be entered in the fair as a true competitor. Thank you for a true movie that has a potent future.

    My movie entered in a local movie fair among movies of students who actually majored in movie-making? The thought bounced around my head as I struggled to make sense of the fact that my movie was actually that good.

    Another few weeks passed, filled with cramming and panic for my grades. Despite the fact that I could easily get Cs on these exams and still have As for my overall grades, I wanted to get an A just to prove to myself that I could. I had taken the HSA and was confident I had done well. Now, all that remained was my History exam.

    As I walked into the classroom to take my last exam of the year, my heart felt like it was beating in my throat at the prospect of taking an exam in my worst subject. Mr. Marvin handed out the packets, giving us reassuring smiles as the multitudes of papers were placed on our desks.

    The packet landed in front of me with a worrying thud, and I picked it up, the thickness appalling me. As I flipped through it, Mr. Marvin called our attention to the front of the class.

    "So you may be surprised by the thickness of this packet," he stated, pretty much reading our minds. "But the Document Based Question essay at the end of the packet need not be written. You only need to fill out the organizer. You have two hours. Your time starts... now."

    Sounds of papers flipping filled the room and scribbles on the test followed. The classroom was eerily quiet as everyone focused on the tests, trying as hard as they could. I read the passages and answered the questions, racking my mind for information we had learned at the beginning of the year. I related the questions to the field trips we had and answered them accordingly. Soon, I was done with the multiple choice portion and ready to proceed to the Document Based Question.

    There were eight documents to analyze, of which we had to relate five to three topics. I scanned the documents, marking which one stood for or against which issue. I analyzed them and worked all over them, intently focused only on what was in front of me. The rest of the world faded to a blur as I entered this alternate dimension with only me and the test. I finished annotating the documents and looked at the board to see how much time we had left.

    I smiled when I saw that we had thirty minutes left. Sighing, I copied and summarized my annotations onto the organizer and turned in my test.

    I let out a deep breath I hadn't even realized I was holding and slumped down onto my desk, finally free of all the exams and stress that school had given me.