Chasing Spring

“Who's got some they wouldn't mind sharing?” she asked with a laugh, tapping her shoulder against mine. “There's no way I'll get through first period straight.”

A small kid on the other side of Trent started rolling a joint, trying to hide his actions inside his unzipped backpack. He was doing a half-assed job and anyone with half a brain would have been able to discern what he was doing if they’d happened to walk by. I had five months in this hellhole and nothing was going to jeopardize that.

I stepped away from the group and headed for the front doors of the school, not bothering with goodbyes. The first bell was going to ring in a few minutes anyway and I still had to go to the front office and pick up my class schedule.

Trent called out after me, “Lilah, let's hang out after school!”

I waved to him over my shoulder and kept walking, trying to remember what I'd found appealing about him in the first place.



I should have gone up to the high school early to finalize my class schedule. The front office was packed with kids trying to switch their classes around. They were all sitting there with their yellow schedules on their laps, scribbling out the classes they didn’t want to take and trying desperately to replace them with something easier. I wished I could have just grabbed one of their schedules and left. Sitting through advanced auto-mechanics beat listening to a bunch of whiny seniors beg for free periods.

“Ms. Calloway.” A short, round secretary tried to find me in the crowd of students. “Ms. Calloway,” she called again.

I pushed to my feet and made my way toward the door behind the reception desk. I’d been to the counselor’s office a few times before I’d moved, and the shock of familiarity made me pause in the doorway. The scent of cheap cologne, a half-dead ivy sitting in the corner, a tall, bald man sitting behind his desk, desperately guzzling down his coffee between student appointments. His name was Mr. Joy, which was ironic considering he’d been the one to deliver the news of my mother’s death.

He glanced up from his coffee to find me standing in the doorway and beckoned me closer.

“Lilah, come in. Come in.”

I moved to take a seat as he tried to find his keyboard beneath the scattered papers on his desk, all the while gulping down long swallows of coffee.

“First day,” he laughed, explaining away the mess.

I sat silent, slipping my hands beneath my legs so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything on his desk. I bet there were so many secrets waiting to be found: student records and changed schedules, progress reports and letters of expulsion. Who wasn’t passing pre-cal? Whose parents were calling the school every day, checking to make sure their kid wasn’t cutting class?

“Your high school back in Austin emailed me over your records last week,” Mr. Joy confirmed, typing away on his keyboard.

He hit enter and a squeaky printer behind him spat out my new schedule. He handed it over and I scanned down the list of classes. No Advanced Placement Environmental Science, nor AP Spanish or Statistics.

“I was taking all AP classes back in Austin.”

He frowned. “I saw that. Unfortunately, we don’t offer as many AP classes here, but I’m sure colleges will understand given your…circumstances.”

Circumstances was a euphemism for things he didn’t have the courage to say.

I glanced up to find him studying me. “You know, Lilah, while I have you here, it might be a good time to schedule a one-on-one counseling session. We could talk about your time spent in Austin and what your plans are for the future.”

I folded my schedule in half and stood. “Actually, I better get to my first class.”

“Lilah, I know that the last year and a half haven’t been easy for you.”

I ignored him and pointed to the ivy plant in the corner. “You need to water that. It’s almost dead.”

Honestly, why would I want counseling from a man who lets his plants die?

Ivy is the easiest thing to take care of. Water it and stick it in a window.

I turned and made my way back through the crowded office, happy to be free of Mr. Joy’s kindly stare. I glanced down at my schedule and ticked off the classes I’d like: AP Physics, English Lit, and AP Art History. Then I scanned over the classes that would undoubtedly bore me. I was trading in AP Environmental Science to be a teacher’s aide for a freshman English class. What a royal waste of time.

“Lilah! Lilah Calloway? Is that you?”