2

Hope

Monday morning came before I knew it. We spent the last few days unpacking our entire life. There were still a couple boxes here and there. But Mom was highly organized and kept us focused on getting things as normal as possible. I was glad she forced me to hang up all my clothes. I could easily see what I wanted to wear. I nice warm sweater. Perfect for the first week in January. I let my long curly hair hang loose down my back. It was light brown with some natural highlights. Mom says I’m gorgeous. But that’s what Moms are supposed to say. I think I look alright. Guys say they love my hazel eyes. But I assume that is just a pickup line. I’m a little taller than most girls at five foot nine and still growing. Mom says I have model height. I just feel slightly embarrassed that I am taller than some of the guys in my class. And I have a hard time finding dresses that go to my knees and pants that don’t look like floods. But Sage says I am “blessed” with my looks. I don’t believe her, but I stopped arguing with her about ityears ago. I attract a lot of male attention and I don’t like that. I have never really been interested in dating. I have goals and a career to think about. My Mom was pregnant at 20 and had to leave college for a while to take care of me. She says it was the best thing she ever did, but doesn’t want me to sacrifice my dreams. I wonder if she ever felt that way. She has never even hinted at it. But I still wonder. According to her, I am her entire world, and she wouldn’t trade me for anything. Is that just another thing that Moms are supposed to say?

I smell breakfast downstairs and head that way. Mom made all my favorites. French toast, crispy bacon, and over medium eggs. I usually make my own breakfast, but Mom will be working the late shift for a while. She doesn’t go in until 1:00. This is a nice way to start my first day. “Thank you, Mom. You always know exactly what I need.” I started devouring my food. I have been so hungry lately. “I can take you to school.” “Thanks. It’s weird not having my own car anymore.”

I grab my bag and we head out. School is only a 7-minute drive. It’s on the way to Dads job at Harvard. Hopefully, I will be accepted there next year if I can keep my grades up. I will be turning in my application soon. So, I better stay focused. We pull up to a high school that looks more like a college. Its massive. And amazingly beautiful. I guess it would be, as it is right around the corner from Harvard University. We registered online already. I just need to go to the office and pick up my schedule.

I am a little early. So there aren’t that many students around yet. I do get some subtle glances from people passing by. Thankfully, nothing mean. An older woman with glasses held by a gold  chain sits at the front desk. “I’m Hope Christianson and I am new here.” I tell her with a smile. “Welcome, Hope.” She extends her hand for a shake.  “I have your papers already here. This is a map of the campus; you will need it. And your schedule. Along with your locker number and combination.” I look at the map of the huge school with a little trepidation. “Tyler here can show you to your locker and your first class.” She points to a boy, shorter than me, who is filing papers. He pushes up his glasses and stares at me. His cheeks turn a rosy pink. “Oh, ok, sure.” He stutters out as he looks at my schedule.

He first shows me to my locker which I open using the code I was given. After establishing that it works, we head to my first class. Trigonometry. He leaves me there at the door with a little shy wave. I go inside and greet my new teacher. He is about 70 years old with messy white hair like Einstein. Maybe it’s a look he’s going for. I tell him my name and he hands me a heavy book and tells me to go ahead and take a seat in the front. I hesitate because I don’t like the idea of everyone staring at the back of my head. I reluctantly sit as I look through the book. It’s pretty much the same stuff we were learning back in California thankfully.

The room fills with students, and I get a lot of stares. I am sure they are surprised by a new student in January. After the bell rings and the class settles down, the teacher announces my presence. I want to sink down under the desk. “We have a new student. Miss Hope Christianson. Please give her a warm welcome.” I hear a few hellos and mumbles. And then the torture is over. I’m glad he didn’t make me say something about myself. That would be so embarrassing. The guy next to me gives me a big smile and a wink. What does that wink even mean? I just smile back and then face forward.

After class, I take out my map and schedule. Wink guy offers to show me to my next class. I take the offer since I have no idea where I am going. This school is massive. “You need to head to the other wing.” He points at the map that shows 4 distinctive wings with a multipurpose room in the center. He places his hand on my lower back as we walk. I don’t feel comfortable with that. So, I speed up just a little to get out of his reach. He takes the hint and removes his hand. “I can come back here at the end of class and show you to your next if you would like.” He offers. “Thank you, but I should probably try to figure it out on my own.” “Oh, okay Hope. I’ll see you around I guess.” He waves as he turns and goes on to his own class. Wink guy was nice, but I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. I am not interested.

I enter my English class with high hopes. I love reading and I love English. I hope I like the teacher. That makes a big difference for me. A good teacher can change the way you think. I go to the desk in front. Someone is leaning over a big box on the floor. He turns around with the box in his arms. We make eye contact. My breath hitches. His blue eyes meet mine and I forget where I am. I just stare at him. Neither of us saying a word. Then he takes a big breath.  I take a big breath. He smells amazing. What the heck? Since when do I sniff people?  This guy must have the most amazing cologne ever.  He’s still staring, I’m still staring. I hear someone clear their throat behind me. It snaps me out of whatever that was. “I’m new here.” I suddenly blurt. He points to the guy behind me. “Why don’t you let Zade show you to your seat?” he suggests. I take the hint that it’s time to sit down and start class.

Zade pulls out a chair and I sit next to a guy who looks exactly like him. Twins! Zade sits on my left side, his twin to my right. I look between the two of them. They are both smiling. I face front to see what the gorgeous man, I mean, my teacher is doing. He is staring at me. When our eyes meet again, he turns around and faces the board. He runs his hands through his dark curly hair. Then puts his hands on his hips. I hear him take a long breath. The bell rings. Then he turns as if nothing happened and begins class.

“We have a new student. Could you stand and tell us your name and where you are from?” He asks, looking at me. I hesitantly stand. “My name is Hope, and I just moved here from San Francisco, California.” I say as I start to sit down. But he interrupts my motion by adding, “tell us something about yourself. What brings you here and what do you like to do?” I hesitate again. I hate being in the spotlight. “Well, my dad just transferred here, and I like to do a lot of things. Reading, cooking, music. But I am most interested in psychology. That is what I plan to major in next year.” I quickly sit before he can ask another question. “Thank you Hope. Everyone make sure to make her feel comfortable on her first day, alright?” He adds.

“My name is Mr. Kingston, by the way. We will be starting a new book today.” He turns to the big box and opens it. He begins passing out books. I look at the cover and smile. The Great Gatsby. One of my favorites. “Have you read it?” he asks when he pauses at my desk. I just nod while looking into his eyes again. I could gaze into their blue depths for hours. Why am I suddenly getting poetic? He smiles and moves on to hand out books to the guys on either side of me.

I honestly can say that I have no idea what happened through the rest of class. All I got out of it was Mr. Kingston has a nice deep voice. Mr. Kingston is very tall, maybe six foot four. Mr. Kingston has the most beautiful smile and perfectly straight white teeth. Mr. Kingston has one dimple and a really sharp jawline. Mr. Kingston has some stubble and probably didn’t shave this morning.  I need to stop, this is ridiculous. Concentrate Hope! Mr. Kingston has very wide shoulders and is wearing low slung jeans. Those are nice. Ugh! The bell rings and I didn’t notice that time had actually passed. I look around the room in a bit of a daze. Students are leaving. I’m still sitting. Zade asks me something. “I’m sorry, what?” I ask a little confused. “I said, my brother and I can walk you to your next class.” I notice my schedule is in his hands. I must have given it to him while I was in my Mr. Kingston daze. “Oh, sure, I mean, yes, please.” I manage to sputter. He laughs slightly and smiles. He looks at Mr. Kingston and gives him a nod. So does his twin brother. As I am exiting the room, I take one look back at him. He’s looking at me too. I take another deep breath. I may not get to smell him again until tomorrow. Oh my God, I think I’m crazy.