Scruples (1)

Yesterday was amazing, for all the wrong reasons. It was fourth period, the bell had already rang and I was wobbling my way to the door of the courtyard. I had just donated blood and was still woozy from it, and normally I wouldn’t use the courtyard but today something inside me made me.

I opened the door and was greeted with a cool, summery breeze that almost knocked me over. Then a car horn loudly echoed through the courtyard. I looked over, half-expecting to find one of the school’s security guards in the silver Jetta parked outside waiting to grill me about my lateness. Instead I found a shiny black Range Rover with a very familiar driver. I stood there, taking everything in, when Frank Wright leaned out from the driver’s side door and waved for me to come over.

I glanced over to make sure no one would see and then made a (wobbly) run for it.

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