Losing Hope

again. As much as it seems like it happens repeatedly, she can only kill herself once.”
    The way his eyebrows crease together and his lips tighten into a firm line make it apparent that he doesn’t find me amusing at all. Which is good, because I wasn’t trying to be amusing.
    “Some situations should remain off-limits to your sarcasm,” he says flatly. “I would hope you would have a little more respect for your sister than that.”
    As much as I hate that I can’t hit girls today, I hate the fact that I can’t punch teachers even more. I immediately stand up and walk swiftly to where he’s standing, stopping just inches from him, my fists down at my sides. My proximity causes his body to go rigid and I can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing I’ve scared him. I look him directly in the eyes, clench my teeth, and lower my voice.
    “I don’t give a shit if you’re a teacher, a student, or a goddamned priest. Don’t you ever mention my sister again.” I stare at him for several more seconds, seething, waiting on his reaction. When he fails to say anything, I turn around and grab my backpack. “You’ll get your report tomorrow,” I say, exiting the classroom.
    • • •
    I’ve been convinced I was minutes away from being expelled. However, Mr. Mulligan apparently chose not to report our little interaction, because nothing has been said or done and it’s now lunch break.
    Moving along.
    “Holder,” someone says from behind me in the hallway. I turn around to find Amy catching up to me.
    “Hey, Amy.” I wish her presence gave me even the slightest hint of comfort, but it doesn’t. Seeing her standing here just reminds me of two weeks ago, then that reminds me of the pictures she was at my house for, then that reminds me of Les, then that reminds me of Hope. Then of course I’m consumed with guilt again.
    “How are you?” she asks hesitantly. “I haven’t heard from you since . . .” Her voice trails off, so I answer her quickly, not wanting her to feel she has to go into more detail.
    “I’m okay,” I reply, feeling guilty that she seems disappointed I didn’t call her. I thought she was pretty clear with what happened between us. I hope she is, anyway. “Did you um . . .” I look down at my feet and sigh, unsure how to bring it up without sounding like a complete asshole. I shift my weight from one foot to the other and look back up at her. “Did you want me to call you? Because I thought what happened . . .”
    “No,” she says quickly. “No. You thought right. I just . . . I don’t know.” She shrugs and looks as though she already regrets this conversation. “Holder, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve been hearing rumors and I’d be lying if I didn’t say they have me worried. I felt like I made that day at your house all about me, and I never even thought to ask you how you were holding up at all.”
    She looks guilty for even bringing up the rumors, but she shouldn’t feel that way. She’s the only person all day to actually make an active effort to ensure the rumors aren’t true. “I’m okay,” I assure her. “Rumors are rumors, Amy.”
    She smiles, but doesn’t seem to believe the words coming out of my mouth. The last thing I want her to do is worry about me. I wrap my arms around her and whisper in her ear. “I promise, Amy. You don’t need to worry about me, okay?”
    She nods, then pulls away from me, looking nervously down the hall to her left, then to her right. “Thomas,” she whispers, excusing the fact that she pulled away from me. I smile at her reassuringly.
    “Thomas,” I say, nodding. “Not at home helping his dad with yard stuff, I guess?”
    She purses her lips together and shakes her head. “Take care, Holder” she says, turning to walk away.
    I put my things in my locker, then head to the cafeteria. I walk in several minutes after the cafeteria has filled up with people, and at first it’s like any other day at lunch. But once people begin to spot me as I make my way to the table where Daniel is seated, the voices drop entire octaves and eyes can’t seem to mind their own business.
    The amount of drama I’ve witnessed today is comical, really. Everyone I pass, even people I’ve been friends with for years, all seem to think if they don’t quietly watch my every move, they might miss the moment that I completely break down and lose it. I hate to disappoint them, but I’ve got a pretty