Hours

3- Monday, May 14th

9:10 AM

I enter first period later than usual, seconds after the bell has rung, but still manage to sit in my usual place. Amelia, the girl beside me, gives me a questioning look, eyebrows raised. I shrug, shaking my head.

"What?" I mouth. She shrugs and points at me, making the 'okay' symbol with her fingers. I nod, trying to make it obvious that I'm okay. Which I am.

I am.

I'm going to confess something. I don't have many close friends. I have plenty of friends, there's no shortage there. Plenty of friends, people to talk with, to eat lunch with, to hang out with on Friday nights and weekends. But close friends? Close enough to have private sleepovers with, to have inside jokes with, to go on vacations with? No. None of those. And don't pity me, I'm not lonely, I don't need them. I've gone through all of high school like this, I don't need things to change. In Grade 9, the few close friends I had either went to different schools or joined different cliques. By Grade 10, I had my clique, and 'friendship' there was following each other's social media accounts and sending heart-eyed-emojis. Grade 11 rolled around and the situation basically stayed the same, except for the fact that we thought we ruled the school- which we kind of did. And now, Grade 12? I just want to get out of here. There's no reason to stay.

And boyfriends? Why bother? No one within a kilometre of Greenwood High is actually willing to commit. I'm hardly worth their time, and they're definitely not worth mine. Besides, in three months I'll be out of here, moving to whatever city accepts me. I'm not staying in this small town forever.

Hell, I'm hardly looking back.

Our English teacher, Mr Reynolds, moves to the front of the class, signalling for us to quiet down. His plaid blue shirt is slightly wrinkled, and he wears Oxfords with his jeans. His brown hair flops around on his head, messily groomed. I realize while I analyze his outfit that I'm still wearing the clothes I had worn on Friday; a simple white blouse with a black skirt. My heart rate speeds up, and suddenly I'm struck with the knowledge that this is real, this is happening. I glance around the class, and my eyes land on a dark hoodie and darker hair beneath it. Micheal.

Mr Reynolds clears his throat, readying himself to speak. The class, obviously, ignores him. Used to this sort of behaviour, he begins writing on the chalkboard at the front of the room, and when he finishes he begins to speak, each sentence getting louder until we quiet down. By now, that doesn't take long.

"Alright, class." He says, starting his speech over once we're quiet. "So, as you know, the end of this year is only weeks away, and we have to start on our culminating projects!" He says, feigning excitement and encouraging us to join him. Few do, groaning a half-hearted 'yay', as opposed to the rest of us, who just groan.

"If you read the book- like you were supposed to- this project will be simple." He says, smiling, "I'll hand out the rubrics in a moment, I just want to explain what you have to do first." He settles down on the edge of his desk, looking young and scholarly. "It's quite simple, all you have to do is answer the questions on the handout, choose a theme or mood from the novel, and create a presentation that will be presented in book fair fashion- got it?" He says, and we all nod. But then he continues, "And..." He says, pausing dramatically. "It's a group project."

The room immediately explodes with conversation. Desk partners turn to each other, friends share glances across the room, people laugh and point and gesture.

I try to keep my head down, gaze away from Amelia's eyes. From anyone's eyes, really.

A group project? I internally moan, trying not to glare at Mr Reynolds. Are you kidding me, after four months?

"Alright, alright, calm down!" He calls from the front of the class. Hands immediately shoot up and he waves them away, "Yes, you can choose your own partners. Yes, you can work on this at home. And, yes, Mark and Ivan, you two can work together." He says, looking back at the two trouble-makers in the class. They guffaw and high-five and it's all I can do to not roll my eyes. "However," Mr Reynolds says, growing serious, "I will not accept any goofing off, from anybody. This is worth 15% of final grade, half of your exam mark. You are all old enough to know who you can and should work with, and I'm not going to tell you who those people are. Just know, this is your mark you're affecting, your mark that you're risking, should you make the wrong decision." He leans in, smiling, "Choose wisely."

Everyone stands, immediately moving towards their chosen partners. Something inside me propels me away from Amelia, away from my clique, towards the back of the room. As I near the boy, my heart rate speeds up.

Am I really doing this?

I stand above him and clear my throat awkwardly.

The boy looks up, surprise and disbelief clear in his crystal blue eyes. "So, uh..." I say, shifting my weight on my feet. I feel my face growing red and shake off the embarrassment. "Wanna be partners?"

Micheal opens his mouth, glaring at me, but then closes it and looks around. Everyone else has found a partner, everyone else is looking at the rubric Mr Reynolds is handing out, or they're looking at their phones. No one is partnerless. I see disappointment fill his face, followed by something that looks like anger.

"I... usually prefer to work alone." He says eventually, projecting it loud enough that Mr Reynolds, who is nearby handing out the rubrics, can clearly hear him. "No offence but-"

"But this is a group project, and it seems you have both a willing partner and no other options." Mr Reynolds says behind us, causing Micheal to jump.

"But I-" Micheal protests.

"I'm sorry Micheal, but this time you will have to work with someone." He scribbles something on a sheet of paper before handing it to the both of us. It's the rubric, with our names scrawled across the top.

I drop down beside Micheal, looking at the rubric in awe.

I am doing this. I think, realizing I feel proud to think it. I am.

"Wait!" Ivan calls from the back of the class, causing us all to turn, "What is this on?"

"On second thought, I could have one of you work with Ivan..." Mr Reynolds says while everyone groans loudly. Some of them yell insults, others answer Ivans question loudly.

Mr Reynolds turns back to us, eyebrows raised. I look to see a panicked look on Micheals' face, mouth falling agape. "Alright..." Mr Reynolds says, making to call out to Ivan and Mark, but he never gets the chance.

"No!" Micheal says quietly. "It's- It's okay, I can work with Kayla." He lets out in a rush as if it's like an on/off switch, words either gush out or they don't flow at all.

Mr Reynolds looks to me and I nod, numb.

"Yeah," I say, "Totally."