Springlake High. The highest of all high schools. It’s basically a college-prepped school that oozes of prestige. People who study here are either millionaires or geniuses.
Sadly, I am neither.
I was sent here by my uncle because he and my dad wanted me to get into Yale.
At first I disagreed because I felt like I’d be left out of socialization in a place built for young businessmen and budding heiresses.
“No, dad."
"I don’t want to."
"I don’t need some fancy-schmancy school just so I can get into Yale,” I said as I try to mockingly brush off their offer.
“My decision is final. You will go to Springlake whether you like it or not.”
This is the part where I just broke.
“OF COURSE, YOUR DECISION. IT’S ALWAYS YOUR FRICKIN’ DECISION. Why can’t I ever decide for myself?! You know what? THIS IS WHY MOM LEFT US! You’re always too tight! It’s suffocating!” I said as I burst through our front door furiously.
I ran. With tears trickling down my cheeks.
It seemed like the road went on forever.
Then I stopped momentarily, only to find out that it was raining.
Great. GREAT.
I continued walking, dramatically, hoping to gain distance from our house.
As the rain poured down on me, I noticed something.
It was a house on the far end of the street.
It seemed familiar.
Then I realized what it was.
It was Kim’s house.
I actually felt some relief when I saw that house.
I slowly walk up to it. Like a zombie.
Though I hoped that there were no pea-shooting plants there to take me down.
Knowing that only Kim was in the house (because Miss Simeon, Kim’s aunt, worked during the day), I managed to step on their front porch and go through the small wooden gate.
I rang the doorbell.
No answer.
I rang it again.
Again, no one answered.
As I was about to ring it for the third time, the door opened.
“Hi Kim,” I muttered out. I was embarrassed, but at the same time relieved.
“Oh my god, Jeremy. Why are you soaked in water?”
“It’s a long story. Can I come in?”
Kim let me in their living room. While, I on the other hand, leave wet footprints all over their carpeted floor.
“So, what happened?” Said Kim as she handed me a towel that she got from the cabinet.
“It’s dad. He’s forcing me into something I don’t want again.”
“Jeremy, we’ve talked about this. Parents want only the best for their children.”
“How would you know? You don’t even have any.”
Oh no.
What have I done?
Kim’s gaze steers away as the air in the room slowly turned heavy.
YOU ARE READING
The Senior Year Crisis
Teen FictionWhat if you woke up one night, days before the end of high school, and find yourself deeply in love with your best friend? Would you let her go, knowing that it would be better for you? Or will you follow your heart and tell her how much you love he...
