Losing Hope

volunteer the information. She seems different now. I can still see the heartache in her eyes, but it’s not as prominent as it was when I left last year. She actually smiles now, which is good.
    Her happiness will be short-lived, though. It’s Monday and school started today. The first day of senior year. She left for work before I woke up. I actually had my alarm set and everything ready. I made it to school and did my morning workout, but all I could think about while I was running the track was how much I didn’t want to be there.
    I don’t want to be there without you. I don’t want to face everything I hate about that school and the majority of the people in it.
    So what did I do when I finished my run? I walked back to the parking lot, got into my car, drove home, and went back to sleep. Now it’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon and Mom will be home in a couple of hours. I’m about to head to the grocery store for a few things because I’ll be cooking her dinner tonight. I plan to break the news to her about my dropping out of school. I know she won’t be happy about my testing out, rather than getting a traditional diploma, so I put cookies on the grocery list, too. Women love cookies, right?
    I can’t believe I’m not going back to school. I just never thought it would come to that. I’m blaming you for that one, too.
    H

Chapter Seven
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    “Will that be all for you today?” the cashier asks.
    I mentally run through the items on my list, ending with cookies. “Yep,” I say as I pull my wallet from my pocket to pay the cashier. I’m just relieved I got in and out without seeing anyone I know.
    “Hey, Holder.”
    Spoke too soon.
    I glance up to see the cashier operating the line next to me, staring me down. She’s practically offering herself up on a platter with the way she’s looking at me. Whoever this girl is, her expression is begging for attention. I feel sort of bad for her, especially with the way her voice climbed into that annoying, high-pitched, why-do-girls-think-baby-talk-is-sexy range. I glance down at her nametag, because I honestly can’t place her face for the life of me.
    “Hey . . . Shayla .” I give her a quick nod, then look back at my cashier, hoping my guarded response is enough to let her know that I’m not in the mood to feed her ego.
    “It’s Shayna ,” she snaps.
    Oops .
    I glance at her nametag again, disappointed that I’m giving her even more reason to keep talking. However, her nametag clearly reads Shayla . I want to laugh, but feel even more sympathy for her now. “Sorry. But you do realize your nametag says Shayla, right?”
    She immediately flips the nametag up on her smock and frowns. I’m hoping this is embarrassing enough that she doesn’t look up at me again, but it doesn’t even faze her.
    “When did you get back?” she asks.
    I have no idea who this chick is, but she somehow knows me. Not only does she know me, but she knows I had to leave in order to come back . I sigh, disappointed that I still underestimate everyone’s penchant for gossip.
    “Last week,” I say, offering up no further explanation.
    “So are they gonna let you come back to school?” she asks.
    What’s with the “ let you ” part of her question? Since when was I not allowed back at school? That has to be attached to some sort of rumor.
    “Doesn’t matter. Not going back.”
    I haven’t really decided whether or not I’ll be enrolling tomorrow, since I failed to do it today. It really all depends on my conversation with my mother tonight, but it seems easier just to give the people what they want, which is more fuel for their gossip. Besides, if I dispel every single thing everyone has said about me for the past year, I’ll be leaving everyone with no one to spread rumors about.
    “You suck, man,” my cashier says quietly as he removes the debit card from my hand. “We had bets on how long it would take her to realize her nametag was misspelled. She’s been wearing it for two months now and I had dibs on three. You just lost me twenty bucks.”
    I laugh. He hands me back the debit card and I place it in my wallet. “My bad,” I say. I pull out a twenty-dollar bill and hold it out to him. “Take this, because I’m pretty sure you would have won.”
    He shakes his head, refusing to take the twenty.
    I’m placing the money back into my wallet when I notice out of the corner of my eye someone in the next checkout line. The girl has