1985 (h.s.)

Chapter Fifty

November 24th, 1985

11:45 a.m.

My nerves were bursting through the roof. I was minutes away from my interview with Gemma. I sat in my car in front of the school reviewing my answers for potential questions. The notecard I was holding began to dampen due to the perspiration coming from my hands. The pen ink was smudged. Some of the ink rubbed off onto my hands. 

I dug through the glove box of my car for a tissue. There was a small pack in front. I tore the package open and wiped the drying ink off. I clenched my hands around the tissue before throwing it onto the floor of my passenger seat. Normally I'd wait to throw it away, but I was too tense. The only thing I could truly focus on was my dialogue for this interview. 

I wasn't exactly sure what to wear to an interview like this. The only one home to help me was Niall. He brought some clothes from his mom's room. Her clothes were a tad too tight though there was one skirt that fit. I took the opportunity while I could. It was a fitted navy pencil skirt. It was short on me, stopping at my mid to low-thighs. I could practically feel my ass hanging out. For the shirt, I chose a white blouse, tucking it into the skirt. I also found this navy ribbon, which matched the skirt, and tied it around the collar like a bow.

 My caramel-colored hair was loosely waved and separated by a thin black headband. Eleanor had invested in some makeup for me. She took me after school yesterday so we could match the colors of my skin. Of all of the things we bought, I wore a few of them today. I had some powder brushing my almost invisible blemishes. Blush painted my already pinkish cheeks and I brushed my eyelashes with mascara. Lastly, my lips were tinted red. The color wasn't too much. I looked put together even though I was anything except that.

I not-so-decently stared at the clock in my car until it turned 11:55. My meeting was at noon. Going in five minutes early wasn't too early, was it? Was it too late? How unprofessional was I? I hadn't even seen Gemma's car pull up yet. Maybe she'd parked around back. What if I got the date wrong? I bet you I did. I should double-check my calendar again. Shit. I left it at home. This is why I was going to bomb this interview.

 Gemma might not have known what happened between Harry and I. She could be mad at me for hurting him. That could make her deduct points. That plus my shakiness will result in no scholarship for me. If I didn't get out of the damn car now, I didn't think I ever would.

With trembling hands, I pushed the door open and situated my black heels onto the pavement. I put my hand on the door of the car and lifted myself. When I stood, my legs wobbled, though, they stiffened up quickly. 

I took a deep breath and closed the door to my car. I shoved the keys into my pocket, not only after locking the door. I stepped onto the sidewalk and my heels clicked with every step towards the front doors. Through the glass I recognized Dr.Ashley. I didn't know he'd be there. 

That didn't make me feel any better. If anything, that made me more nervous. If I screwed up, my faults would be in his hands. He is the one who taught me. Well, he's only taught me for the past five-ish months. I wouldn't say I'd learned nothing from him; I also wouldn't say he's given me all of the information I know.

As I neared the glass doors, Dr.Ashley held them open for me to enter. The school seemed dead. The only people there were the desk ladies and even they were quiet. Seeing my teacher not in work clothes was unearthly too. Instead of his usual sweater vests, he wore a simple hoodie and jeans. He looked casual compared to how dressed up I was. He gave me a look that almost spoke 'good luck' before he ushered me into the room. 

Gemma was sitting in the chair that was next to my assigned one. The chair Harry used to claim. I felt less fancy when I saw what she was wearing. She wore a fitted black dress that clung to her small body. I looked like an entire walrus and a half when standing next to her. There was a slit that went from the bottom of the dress to the lower thigh. The dress itself stopped below her knee. Her blonde hair was straightened and laid flat against her dainty shoulders. She turned her head from her notebook to face me.