Delinquent For Christmas

Chapter One

        The second the bell rang, I shot out the door ahead of the stragglers. I like school, but two months' worth off for Winter break? To whom wouldn't that sound like Heaven?

        It was cold out, but not too bad. It was snowing, white swirls blotting the eyelashes I had to continuously blink to clear off, but I had on layers. Yes, I walked to and from school. Yes, it was snowing. But I lived a short eight minutes away from the school by foot. All was good. Until I made it to my drive. Then I paused still in my tracks. My heart dropped, then began thump-thump-thumping real fast. The sight my eyes viewed worried me.

        That car, that short, black, old model car I remembered well from my childhood. I'd ridden in it several times I'd care not to count. I don't like thinking about it much. Just like the owner of that car. It didn't belong here, didn't live here. It had no business being here. Whatever brought them here, it couldn't be anything good...

        That's Banks' car. What could I have possibly done wrong? No, that's not it. I never do anything wrong. But I haven't done anything good, either. Not yet, anyways.

        I've had personal requests delivered to me before, at home and in person, but never from him. That's the mayor's job. Or the parent's, shop owner's or whomever was asking of me the request. But not his. That's not what he does. His job is being my-excuse me-a-formally my-social worker, and he's a parole officer of sorts.

        But I've lived happily and stably in a real home-my home-for over six years now. I'm in a permanent home. Nothing can make me leave!

        I'm a good girl; happy; content. I get above-average grades, am class president, and am always elected for every school queen drawing-not that I ever win. But the point is, I'm liked by most of my peers, and I give back in every possible way. I work with kids, animals, the elderly...I volunteer at hospitals, animal shelters, do community services of every kind...You get the picture, I'm a giving person. It's what I do. It's just in my nature, I guess...My philosophy is, as they say, "you get what you give."

        I was gven a great life by loving people. I deserve what I got. Sometimes people get what they don't deserve. Others don't get what they do. You can't change people, but you can help make their lives better.

        I don't really have a goal. You can't change the world. But making life better for one person? That's enough. That means everything to me. That's what I love, why I do what I do.

        But why could Banks possibly be here?

        Only one way to find out...

        I take a deep breath and will my legs to move. The dread and anxiety don't cease. My hand shakes as I rise it to the knob and force it to turn. The door cracks open with a squeal and I shove my way through it. As I step inside, warmth engulfs me and melts the snow clinging to my clothes. I shut the door behind me and stand starring out the windows, swiping at the fog to see through to the increasing white smears swirling the world in dots. It made me feel like we were all trapped in a snow globe...

        "Hope? Honey, is that you?"

        My eyes rip from the fogging window. "Yeah, mom. It's me."

        Her footsteps echo off the wood floors and walls of the hallway as she makes her way through the house to meet me. I bend down to unbuckle my boots, slip them off my feet, and carry them over to the heater to dry. When I straighten, mom's there, standing right in front of me. She grabs my hands in hers, and walks arm in arm back he way she had come from. "So, how was school, sweetie?"