Finding Hope in Texas (2 page)

I tried to pull myself together as I gazed at
their picture. Like it or not, the day was starting and I had to be
a part of it. New Year’s had already gone by in a haze of boxes,
interstates, and warmer climates. It was the first day of school
and if I didn’t get moving I was going to be late. I grabbed my
backpack and headed down the hallway of our rented house towards
the living area.

“Oh, good, Hope, you're up. I made you some
toast with jelly there on the counter,” Mags said while preparing
herself for work.

She continued talking as I sat down to bite
into the miniscule breakfast. Everything I looked at reminded me of
Mom and how she made breakfast every morning, with not only toast,
but eggs, bacon and everything two growing teenagers would need. It
was another thing I did not say “thank you” enough for when she was
alive.

“I know you’re going to have a great day at
school. Be sure to make a good first impression on your classmates
and teachers and all,” Mags said and smiled.

“Okay,” I mustered.

“Do you have everything? I mean, did I get
you the right stuff? Pens and paper and notebook, it’s all there,
right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well, finish your toast and we can get
going.”

“Okay,” I replied.

I wasn't much for talking to Mags. I know she
was just trying to make me feel at home, but this was anything but.
The small house was cramped before I even got here, so my new
little bedroom was full of the few possessions I brought, plus her
collection of stuff I wouldn't have given a dime for at a garage
sale. Of course, to make matters worse was the fact that I hardly
knew her. It was as if I was living with a stranger that just
happened to share my DNA. So, if I seemed standoffish to her, I
thought I was justified, since she had been aloof for as long as I
could remember. Maybe it was a mistake to move down here on a whim.
Maybe I should have just listened to what people were telling me
and given it time. I choked down all the breakfast I could stomach
and we were out the door. Time was not going to wait today.

The ride to school was long, as it seemed
that going anywhere around Texas had to take at least twenty
minutes. I would have much rather walked to school, but the seven
miles was longer than the four blocks in New York. And Texas isn't
really made for walking. You’d better have a car or a horse or you
were out of luck to get anywhere. Even worse, I had nothing to say
to my aunt. I hadn't even said “thank you” to her for taking me in
as she did. Mags was the black sheep. She had taken her own paths
in life, never worrying about her own future, but living for the
day and in the moment. She was nothing like Dad, who set up his
life early, working hard to get into Yale where he would meet his
future wife, and then on to Columbia Law. It was the same path I
had hoped for, until that day in December. Mags could have done the
same thing, in fact, that is what her parents had wanted for her as
well, to get some sort of education and excel at it. But that was
not for her. Dad told me that she tried to make a go at the New
York School of Art, but dropped out in her first year. The next
year, she was off on her own with her first husband. And from where
I sat, I guess I could see why she had been so popular with so many
men. Her looks, although giving in to her age now, had once been
beautiful. She was trim with the right set of curves, had a nice
smile, and that red Kilpatrick hair that looked like our head was
on fire and full of spunk. Luckily for him, my brother, Tyler had
inherited mom's nice soft blonde look, but I was stuck looking like
an extra for the Irish river dance contest.

Mags pulled her used compact car up to the
sidewalk, its blue paint chipped away on the hood. “Alright
sweetie, now be good and make new friends. I love you very
much.”

“Okay,” I muttered, kind of blocking out the
last words, grabbing my backpack and violin case, shutting the car
door behind me, not even giving a wave.

She must understand why I'm being such a
brat, doesn't she?

I turned to face the school, the oldest high
school in town from what I had heard. It was a white brick building
and named after the president from the time it was built, Jimmy
Carter. I think he was the last Democrat to ever win Texas, and
that was probably a miracle. The building was uninviting, cold
even. If you put bars on the small windows and wrapped the place in
chain link, it would have made for a nice minimum-security prison.
Either way, it was home for the next year and a half, the students
were my fellow inmates, and the teachers, the guards.

I entered the high school mixing into a crowd
of students in the foyer. Some of them glanced at me only for a
moment before continuing their early morning conversation with each
other about their holiday. New people probably entered their lives
daily, so with the few that gave me a once-over, I was probably
deemed a band geek with the violin case. Still, most paid no
attention at all. I was a fly on the wall to them, nothing more.
With a sigh, I wrapped my arm around the strap on my backpack and
headed through the mass of people. Finding the administration
office, I entered.

The room was hectic with
back-to-school-after-Christmas activities. A couple of teachers
were talking in the back of the room next to the coffee maker.
Another stood making copies. I waited in a line to see the
secretary who was handing paperwork to another student. After a few
more, it was my turn.

“I'm Hope. Hope Kilpatrick” I said timidly.
The secretary fumbled through some papers at her desk, not even
looking up to see me; the name was enough. I waited for a few
moments thinking it was rude that the secretary said nothing. Just
before I was about to go and sit at a nearby bench, she finally
came to life.

“Good, your parent and/or guardian already
filled out your paperwork,” she said, pulling out a piece of paper
and handing it to me. “That is your schedule. Don't lose it. You'll
be in second lunch. The counselor is also going to see you in a few
minutes. Go take a seat over there until she calls you in.”

And/or?
The words leapt from her mouth
like they had legs. Surely she said that to everyone, but it just
felt awkward. I was now an
and/or
.

“Yes, okay.”

I walked over to the bench and sat down,
watching the continual movements of the day, students checking in
on their first day back from the holidays and teachers preparing
for the new semester. Back to the old grindstone with no change
from any day before it. It seemed the repetition of school life was
one thing that was the same throughout the country, or at least New
York and Texas. Soon, I would join the crowd of faces in the
hallway, cafeteria and classes. A door opened next to me that
brought me back to attention. A woman clad in blue, perhaps in her
early forties and wearing glasses poked her head out and glared at
me.

“Miss Kilpatrick, would you like to come
in?”

I didn't say anything, but I really wanted to
stay right where I was. Why I had to speak to a counselor on my
first day was beyond me. Did they already know why I was here? Did
Mags come up here and pour her heart out about her sad little wreck
of a niece?
Ugh.

I reached down and gathered my stuff and
slowly made my way into the office room. The lady made her way
around the desk and took a seat. Another student, a beautiful
blonde girl dressed in a blue and white school clothes sat at one
of the chairs on the opposite side. She looked way too happy to be
there.

“Well, please, come in and take a seat.” I
did as I was asked, sitting next to the student. “Hope, I'm Mrs.
Tremble, the student guidance counselor here. I wanted to welcome
you to our little school.”

“Thank you,” I said with little emotion.

“Now, you’ve received your schedule,
correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your first class is U.S. History with Mr.
Peet?”

“Umm,” I looked at the sheet of paper, “yes,
it is.”

“Alright, good. Please let me know if you
have any–”

“Ahem...” the blonde student cleared her
throat.

“Oh, yes, I almost forgot. You know things
can be hectic at the start of any semester, especially for a new
student. Well, we have created a new program to help you get used
to our system and maybe introduce you around to a few people. It's
something like a buddy system. A fellow student helps you out in
your first week of school and answers any questions you may
have.”

“Oh, I–”

“Well, this is Jody and she is here for just
this purpose. Jody is the captain of the cheerleader squad and
president of the
Secundus
chapter here at school.”

“Secundus? Isn't that Latin for second?”

Before the counselor could answer, the blonde
girl turned toward me and grinned brightly. “Yes, it is. You are so
clever. Anyway, as Mrs. Tremble was saying, I am Jody, and I'm here
to help you during your first week here. I have mostly the same
class schedule as you and I can show you all around the school. Oh,
and you can meet my friends. Most of them are in the
Secundus,
too.

“What is this...group?”

“Why, you mean you didn't have
Secundus
at your school?”

I shook my head.

“Well, we’re a civic organization that’s here
to do its part in helping anyone who needs it. We pick up litter
around the school, do charity work. Our members are expected to
keep at least a B average and we do tutorials after school three
days a week. We try to make a positive influence on everyone and be
role models for under classmen as well.”

“Oh, okay.” That actually sounded really
cool. I gave her a passing smile.

“We are
Secundus
because we are
second, you know, to Him.”

“Him? Him who?”

“You know, God.” Jody looked at me strangely,
as though I had never heard of God before, and before I thought of
saying something catty like, “Oh, Allah,” the counselor chimed in,
making sure the religious overtures didn’t go too far.

“Anyway, Jody will be helping you here this
week. We’re trying to make a goodwill effort to all our new
students so they don't feel left out. You, Miss. Kilpatrick, just
got the cream of the crop.” The counselor glanced at Jody and
smiled. “And hey, you never know, but you both might be best
friends by Friday.”

“Okay,” I said again, not knowing whether to
be happy or run out of the room as fast as possible.

“And I am so happy to do this, Hope. You can
count on me helping you in any way I can. I'm sure Mrs. Tremble is
right, we will be great friends by the end of the week.”

I smiled, not because I wanted a new best
friend, but because she didn't have anything else to say.

Mrs. Tremble hurried us out the door,
motioning for the next student to come into her office. Now
acquaintances, we walked out of the office together to join our
schoolmates in the foyer. As we waited, Jody tried to continue our
mostly one-sided conversation.

“So where are you from, Hope? Hope. I just
love that name. Hope,” she said with a glimmering smile.

“New York.”

“New York,” Jody said and looked impressed,
“Oh, you don't know how much I've always wanted to go up there. It
always looks so beautiful this time of year on TV with the
Christmas lights up and that tree at that place...you know...where
they have the ice rink and the statues.”

“Rockefeller Plaza.”

“Yeah, that's it. Say, have you ever been to
the ball drop in Times Square?”

“Yes, I've been before, with my
fa...friends.”

I was lying. It was mom and dad that took us.
We had a wonderful time there grouped all together in blankets
counting down the numbers and singing
Auld Lang Syne
. I just
didn't want her to ask about my family. What was I supposed to tell
her?
Sorry, they are all dead, killed by some reckless drunk on
his way home after a binge?
She was either going to see me as
some head case or throw more condolences my way, and from a girl
this bubbly, I would rather go with the head case scenario. I
quickly blinked back a tear that began to form in the corner of my
eye. This year, my parents were going to let me go to the ball drop
with a few friends in the orchestra from school. We were going to
be cool without parental supervision. That didn't happen, though. I
didn't even watch it on TV.

“You are so lucky. Maybe we can go together
someday and you can show me around.”

The bell rang and the crowd of high school
scholars began their journey down the hallways to their first
period classrooms. I was dragged along with Jody, who had wrapped
her arm through mine, as if she was leading a blind person. We
arrived at the classroom and took a seat next to each other in the
middle of the room, not in the back like we were not paying
attention, but still having the protection from the first two rows
of desks. The bell soon rang again for those loitering in the
hallway.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” said a
voice from the door. I turned and saw a man in a dress shirt, tie,
and slacks moving quickly down the aisle toward the podium at the
front of the room.

A few students mumbled “good morning” back to
the teacher.

“I hope everyone had a good break and got
everything they wanted for Christmas. And if you didn't, well,
better luck next year. Let's do some history, shall we?” There were
no laughs at the mundane sarcasm. It was too early after too long
of a break. It would probably take a few days to wake up again.

“Mr. Peet,” Jody raised her hand to get his
attention, “I wanted to introduce our new classmate to the
class.”

“Jody, don't,” I whispered.

“Well, does she want to be introduced by
you
?” asked the teacher, a grin on his face.