Honestly Sincere

1

☁︎ chapter one ☁︎

I close my locker door quietly while I hold the straps of my backpack with an intense grip.

I never thought senior year of Maple Brooks High would ever come. It wasn't like I had a feeling that I was going to be held back or anything. It was more because it had been an overwhelming twelve years of pure torture, drama, intense fights, hormonal boys and girls, drugs, and every other joy of the high school experience.

I can't wait to escape secondary education and move onto the big schools where I could focus on my learning in a more nice and calming environment while I study towards becoming a software engineer.

It wasn't a job I really was passionate about, but it had a nice average salary which is really all I want: a stable life knowing I won't struggle financially. I could instead pursue my dream of becoming an artist, but it's very competitive in that area and it's incredibly difficult to get lucky with pay so I think I'll let my fear of failure win on this one.

I walk down the halls in hopes of finding my room quickly. Even after spending a full three years in this school, I still have no idea where anything is. Maple Brooks isn't exactly a huge school though, I am just dumb.

"Hey, you!"

I jump at the sudden noise of the familiar voice that has been nagging the night before about how Christopher Jacobs wouldn't notice her. And that is, unfortunately, my best friend.

I turn around and see a blur of silver tinted gray hair speeding towards my direction as Wilma's hand grasps my shoulder, her acrylic nails slightly giving my sensitive skin a pinch.

"Why do you sound like my fourth-grade bully?" I ask her tiredly.

"Hm, maybe it's cause I was?" She said in a sarcastic tone.

It's true, Wilma was my fourth-grade bully. Well, not exactly. My real bully was Kanika Avast. I never understood why Kanika decided to choose me as her victim. I haven't really done anything that may have disturbed her in some way, but I didn't try and ask anyway. Her plans on me ranged from hair pulling, accidental trips, and cyberbullying, to cornered verbal beat-ups. Wilma was her acquaintance that was often shoved into doing tasks that would help and assist her torture. It took a month in for Wilma to finally stand up for me and her moral values. I don't blame her for taking a little long though after all, speaking against the majority of the class is a major move to take in a setting where the importance of being on the social ladder is higher than it needs to be.

"You know I'm messing with you, Wilma. I forgave you about a million times before."

She rolls her eyes, "Yeah, yeah. You sent me a death threat if I ever apologized again. Through the fucking mail!"

I let out a belly-aching laugh. Wow, I actually did do that.

She scoffs, "You're a psychopath, Tara. You nearly made me shit my pants! Who the fuck even uses the mail anyway?"

"Pfft, are you missing the latest trends? It's the latest catch!"

"Ew, don't talk that way. You sound like my seventy-eight-year-old British aunt."

I shake my head looking downwards. I remember the time Wilma forced me into going with her when her Aunt Tabina had visited. She pleaded with the fact that she would be at a thirty percent decrease of pain and suffering if I came along so I decided why not. That horrendous couple of hours was filled with back-breaking proper etiquette lessons after Aunt Tabina learned we had both didn't know the twenty-five rules of dining.

Wilma and I finally reach my first-hour classroom. "Whatever, I'll meet you back here after first hour, okay?"

I nod. "I'll miss you so much," I say with both hands over my heart.