Senior Year Part 1

Warnings: Rated T for some foul language, sexual references, and some violence. More warnings may get added later, but the rating will not exceed T.

Chapter One
Arthur had to resist the urge to lay his palm down on the horn. He was told over the summer that he was too impatient, that he let things get to him too often. What the person who told him this forgot to mention was how much she pushed his patience, and how much she always had pushed him to the breaking point. He might've seemed impulsive, quick to anger, impatient, and an overall bad person, but she forgot that it was her overall personality that caused him to be all of these things.

Besides, he was entitled to be impatient. It was their first day of senior year, yet here he sat in front of his girlfriend's house, a list of five unanswered texts sitting on the phone in his lap. They both had important classes, important roles to fill in their high school, and only one last year to make a good enough impression. Yet they were going to be late if he didn't do what he had to do.

He sent one last text. After a minute, he lay on his horn.

Francine appeared like a bat out of hell, making a beeline for his passenger seat. She slammed the door behind herself and tossed her things into the floor board. Most importantly, she was yelling the entire time.

“We've talked about this! I need time to do things, but no, you think everything has to be done right this second! We talked about this!” she screamed.

Arthur threw his phone at her, “Six texts! I sent six texts to you and you still weren't out yet! We were going to be late!”

“We're seniors, Arthur, we can be late!” Francine yelled back, snapping on her seat belt and pulling out her phone. “See, look! It's dead! How am I supposed to get texts on a dead phone?”

“That's not my problem,” Arthur hissed back, tossing her the charge cable he kept around for this very reason. Francine was always complaining about never being able to contact him because his stupid “no phone during work, school, or family functions” rule, yet her phone never seemed to be on when he needed to contact her. Somehow it was an injustice that he be respectful, yet her being unreachable was perfectly fine.

Francine shook her head, “I can't believe we ever thought we could make this work. You're the most self-centered piece of work I've ever met in my life.”

“And you're a condescending bitch when you're looking around for someone to blame for your problems. Why else would Muffy stop being your friend? I should've left when I could too. Would've saved us so much trouble!” Arthur ranted.

“I don't see how any of this is too much trouble. You should've just left without me. I could've made it to school on my own,” Francine fired back.

Arthur slammed on his brakes so fast that the car behind him honked and swerved into a turn lane to keep from hitting him. Arthur looked back to her, “Fine, walk then. It's official, we're done. No more trying to lie to ourselves that this could ever work.”

“Fine with me,” Francine huffed, snatching out the charge cable and gathering her things. She was out of the car faster than Arthur expected, which was fine with him. He turned up the radio and got back into traffic. Soon he was in his spot walking into Elwood City High on his own, which was fine by him.
*-*-*-*
Buster sighed as he carried a box of cereal to the front of the line. Working for the cafeteria wasn't glamorous, but ever since his mother lost her editing job, not a lot was nice. Carrying around large cardboard boxes filled to the brim with little containers of cereal for a bunch of crude middle-aged women wasn't how he wanted to spend his mornings, but he had no choice. If he wanted lunch, he had to put in the effort.

“There's a spill by the trash cans,” the lead lunchroom lady announced. Bertha was a fat cow of a woman who would do anything to get out of doing just about anything herself. Students joked someone else would go to the bathroom for her so she wouldn't have to. Her ways were so bad that even students who didn't have to work the lunch program knew the reference and agreed with it.

Now that Buster worked for her, he knew it was true. But he grabbed a mop anyway and headed out to the trash cans. Sure enough, a full carton of milk lay overturned by the can. Buster threw it away and mopped up the spilled milk, then he retrieved a WET FLOOR sign and put it at the sign.

As he did his job, he heard people laughing all over the lunchroom. He eyed the crowd and spied people he'd known all his life. Some were younger, but not many were older anymore. Buster was a senior now, which meant everyone older than him had gone about their business. They graduated and found their way out of Elwood City High.

Where he stood now, he was stuck in school. He was only there because his mom made him go, but he knew they could use some money now that she could only find entry-level work. Scandal always tended to hurt people, whether they were involved or not, and his family had taken a hard hit.

Buster believed his mother didn't do anything wrong though. Bitzi was just doing what she was told by the senior editors at her paper. She'd print what she had to, though honestly it was out of her hands. The final decisions were made in rooms far from where she was, and what was pushed onto the public had nothing to do with her own agenda.

Bitzi was trying to fix things. The community thought she was the source of corruption.

In the end, a whistle blower was born from a freshman journalism student at the local community college. She turned in the whole company, from bottom to top, and made sure that everyone knew Bitzi was the mastermind of everything. She approved the final layout of every story, and every piece of misinformation came from her.

The paper was dismantled and replaced from the bottom up using an outsider, some guy from California who didn't really seem to know what he was doing. Bitzi hated him, but the town hated her more.

She tried jumping papers, online work—anything to get her back into writing for a professional source. She'd been black-listed all over the state, and Buster was sure she'd tried out-of-state positions too with no luck. This left them SOL, shit outta luck, and she was now a barrista at Starbucks a town over, namely because the local shops wouldn't hire her.

Now his mom slung coffees for a living, and in order to eat a proper lunch at school without breaking the bank, he was working in a high school cafeteria where everyone could see him and ridicule him.

In the back he was safe from harm, but whenever he was out on the floor, he knew he'd have to keep his eyes open for people wanting to get at him, not to hurt him but just to make themselves feel better. Besides, Baxter wasn't a good name to have anymore, not after what happened, and if it wasn't the kids doing it, Buster knew it would be their parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts, along with any other adult willing to put a kid down.

He was better off at school. He just didn't know by how much yet.
*-*-*-*
Brain entered the science lab as he always had, not the he expected to still be here. Thanks to his early success in school, he always thought he'd be one of those with a college degree by now, or at least the start of one.

Instead he was the brain of his school, though colleges had made it very clear that he was by no means as special as people made him out to be. This was a huge blow to him, but Brain knew not to take it to heart. Any kid who could maintain the nickname “The Brain” as long as he had likely had some kind of intelligence under his belt. It just wasn't what colleges wanted when he was younger, though it was perfect for the high school academic circle.

“My man, Mr. Powers,” the chemistry teacher cheered when Brain entered the room. They shook hands and Brain took a seat on his favorite stool. The chemistry teacher, Mr. Jones, took a sip of his coffee, “How was your summer internship at the local college? Was it enough to inspire you?”

“Hardly,” Brain admitted. He'd told his parents it was beneficial, when in all reality he spent his summer months pushing papers around for free, mostly for academics who should be a lot better at their jobs than they actually were. “But I was able to get in some good research,” Brain added, which was the truth.

Mr. Jones nodded, “Please elaborate if you'd like.”

“One of the students they had me work with on a writing assignment had a really ludicrous idea that he presented to me during our time together. I wanted to prove him wrong, but it turned out that he had a good idea. He wanted to learn about alternative fuel sources that could work. Some of my small-scale calculations look well enough to work with in the future, but I wanted to wait until I had your assistance before I started any real work,” Brain explained.

“That's rather impressive considering the circumstances. You know, the theme for the robotics competition this year is Alternative Energy in the 21st Century. You can be the team's energy specialist, if you're up for it,” Mr. Jones smiled. He'd been trying to get Brain to do the school's robotics team ever since he got there, but this was the first time he'd ever suggested something Brain could actually see himself participating in.

“I'll think it over once we have a team interest meeting. I want to make sure I'm not encroaching,” Brain lied. He namely wanted to make sure they would be competent, namely so he wouldn't have to do ALL of the work, which was why Brain had rejected Mr. Jones's requests in his previous three years. He respected the teacher, but the man had his own agenda that Brain wasn't about to fall into.

This was plenty for Mr. Jones, who greeted a few more incoming students and gathered them around the table for their standard morning trivia run. Brain let a couple of the juniors get a few questions, but only to see if they could. They were both intelligent, as were the three sophomores in the room and the other two seniors. But would the robotics team be a good fit? Only time would tell.

Chapter Two
Fern just wanted peace and quiet, but that was too much to ask at a place like Elwood City High. The library was supposed to be her sacred space, but now that the old librarian had left, they had a newer gentleman who was too scared to do anything. While the old lady could be quite the bitch when it came to getting the place how she liked it, this guy had no spine whatsoever. This meant people used him like a doormat, which was clear by Fern's inventory of the room into her notebook.

A group of thugs stands at the back of the library, phones in their pockets blaring urban music. I smell something strange coming from where they are, but the smoke alarm isn't going off. Is this what pot smells like?

A preppy couple is making out in the periodicals section. I'm 99% sure their hands are inside each other's pants. Why would anyone want to do this in public? And why is that weird goth girl staring at them?

An artist is drawing in one of the books. Well, they're a vandal actually, but I can see how this art. Words are blacked out to spell some rather creative curses. I wonder what a “cunt flap” is.

The preppy couple is moaning and I think both pants are down. I'm getting out of here.

Fern needed Elwood City High's library to be her sanctuary now that she had a little brother. He was a complete surprise to her parents, and her mom thought she was going through menopause when she got so nauseous she had no choice but to see a doctor. A blood panel revealed the pregnancy, and five months later little Franklin was born.

He was loud, but Fern knew babies were going to be loud. The part she didn't expect was having a special needs little brother who was almost three and still nonverbal. This meant tantrums were common, as were doctor's appointments.

Fern began heading to her first period journalism class and checked her phone. She'd have to find her own way home that afternoon because Franklin had an appointment with the ENT in Capital City [ENT=Ears, Nose, and Throat specialist]. The appointment was at two-thirty, which meant they probably wouldn't be home until after four, and Fern didn't have any of her extracurricular activities yet.

As she went to class, she wondered if this doctor would give them anything new or if it would always be the same. You just check to see if he's healthy, put check marks in the little boxes, and move on to the next patient. Franklin was like a part on an assembly line being let through despite multiple defects, at least that's how Fern felt his doctors saw him. She loved her brother, and while she wished her house were quiet again, she wouldn't trade him for the world.

But she wanted inner peace yet, and Elwood City High was not the place to attain it.
*-*-*-*
George put out his cigarette and checked the time on his phone. He groaned and picked up his bag from the ground. He nodded to Shelly, his college-aged girlfriend, before hopping over a short fence and beginning his walk to Elwood City High through a path in the woods.

Shelly was almost twenty and George was barely seventeen. They met during a college party George found himself out on a night he really needed a drink. His parents' divorce was getting ugly, again, and his mother's new boyfriend wasn't making things easy for him. Who told him he could move in anyway? There were still photos of his father on the wall.

Drinking and smoking felt like a typical teen rebellion to George, as did the partying and occasional blunt, but he was doing it to get some control over his life. School could only give him so much structure when his home life was made up of either his mom bitching about his dad, his mother's boyfriend yelling at him for no reason, and uncomfortable silence. Well, it wasn't exactly silence, but George tried to ignore the sounds coming from the master suite.

At least he had a girl like Shelly willing to see him through it. The party was just the first step. She liked drinking, smoking, and dancing, but she was just trying to escape too. Her father was MIA since a milk run when she was three, and her mother was a part-time prostitute to pay the bills. Shelly had seen a lot, so she was helping him through this new life where he'd also be rammed through the wringer if people didn't pull him from the cracks.

The problem with all of this was getting to school. George knew as soon as he saw his phone's time that he was going to be late. He tried jogging the path, but he was a good two miles from the school, at least, so he knew to just walk and enjoy it.

George was also a favorite of the top assistant principal, Leroy Marshall. Leroy was a prominent man in the community, specifically the African-American community. Leroy was not someone to screw around with, something he made plain from George's first day at ECH. The problem? Now that George had been late a few times and caught smoking a cigarette once, Leroy was on him like white on rice if he so much as breathed wrong.

Leroy would be looking for George, even at his favorite side entrance if the man remembered...and he would remember. If George didn't use it, he'd just find him later, maybe even right outside of his first class for when it let out to second period. Either way, his tardiness would not go unpunished.

George hated to think so negatively, but he knew the only reason Leroy was the top assistant principal was his race. The school board was afraid to fire him and get NAACP up in the joint calling everyone white supremacists. The problem with being so afraid of this was that they needed for fire Leroy. He was abusive, wasn't afraid to hit the students (in private so it was only their word against his), and George was certain he'd seen Leroy looking for him around town. Elwood City was just big enough where you shouldn't see people you knew outside of their designated spots. Leroy lived in the country club district. He should be seeing Muffy at the grocery store, not George Lundgren. And should Leroy really be driving around semi-sketchy areas late at night? Not for anything.

He felt Leroy was out to get him, but there was nothing he could do. As long as the school board was afraid of him pulling the race card upon his dismissal, they couldn't risk kicking him out unless he practically killed a student.

George wondered often if it would be him.

The tardy bell chimed loud enough for him to hear it through the trees. Suddenly the mostly full parking lot came into view, as did the front circle for students being dropped off by cars. Leroy was at the front greeting students, so George hid behind an incoming car and went in a side entrance.

He'd dodged the man, but only for the moment.
*-*-*-*
Muffy touched up her makeup and left the girls' restroom. She walked a few doors down and strutted into her first class, her senior math course. It was pre-calculous this year, something she knew she could never pass without Daddy's money. This had become something she hated.

When Muffy had a falling out with Francine, it was over money. Francine told the whole school about how Muffy's family reacted when their apartment burned to the ground. While most students donated stuff to the Red Cross to help all fire victims in the area, Muffy's parents apparently dropped by the crumby motel they were in to talk about a deal. Ed would buy them a property if they worked with Crosswire Enterprises, his new business venture.

He wanted to enslave the Frensky family by having their mother work in the executive office and their father in maintaining the building. Catherine would have a job after graduation, with Crosswire Enterprises, as would Francine when she was sixteen doing simple things around the place.

The family refused out of an attempt to maintain their dignity, though Muffy thought they were being ridiculous. They needed a house and the Crosswire family was willing to buy them a house, a furnished one, and here they were turning down the offer.

When Muffy called her out on how selfish they were, Francine snapped at her and told everyone. The community agreed this was wrong, plus the news ended up with it during their more corrupt days and ran multiple stories about how the wealthy Crosswire family showed unfounded favoritism towards only certain minorities. Ed Crosswire had no choice but to make a public donation, a large one at two hundred thousand dollars, and Muffy knew her relationship with Francine was done.

This was perfectly okay to her though. Muffy needed to spread her wings, and the sporty Francine was cramping her style. No fancy parties for her, no making an attempt on her wardrobe, and no picking a popular boy to date. Nope, she only went to team outings, she wore whatever piece of garbage she could throw on, and she went the safe route and chose Arthur to be her high school boyfriend. So now Muffy was popular with a nice wardrobe, hot boyfriend, and plenty of party sightings, and Francine? Well Muffy could really care less about her.

Muffy looked around her pre-cal class and realized she would have to get a private tutor to get anywhere. This was okay to her, though she wondered if she could get anywhere with the young teacher over the class. She was a blonde with a dorky exterior, but Muffy knew she could change her. Besides, no one would expect a female student to seduce a female teacher, but Muffy had secretly done it before, and she wasn't afraid to do it again.



Chapter Three
Binky dropped off Mei-Lin at Lakewood Elementary with a grim expression. He never thought he'd make it to be a senior in high school, and he definitely didn't expect his little sister to be finishing elementary school at the same time. Binky was upset because his mother was making a huge deal of everything, so much so that he had no choice but to take his sister to school if he wanted them both to make it on time.

As soon as Mei-Lin left the car, Binky sent a text to Molly. She was starting community college this morning and he wanted to make sure she was awake. As he pulled into Elwood City High's parking lot, she responded letting him know she was up but feeling nervous as hell. He didn't blame her. In fact, there wasn't much keeping him from freaking out himself.

Binky had every reason to freak out. He'd never been that good of a student to begin with. He had a great teacher in Mr. Ratburn, a man who wanted him to succeed no matter what the personal cost.

Binky never had that kind of teacher again.

It was so bad now that he was in the equivalent of a special education class with other misfits who couldn't learn. He was in the same wing of the school, what other students called the Retard Wing, and he was absolutely miserable.

There were a few groups of kids here. In the first classroom, and the largest in the wing, were the legitimate crippled. The students there were so disabled they often just sat in special chairs and drooled on themselves all day. Every few hours, one of the aids would roll one into a special back room to change them. At eleven o'clock, an hour before everyone else, the entire staff of the room would roll them down to the cafeteria for lunch, namely so no one could see how hard it was to feed these students. Most could barely take a spoonful, and there were others fed through tubes.

The next class up was higher functioning. Down Syndrome and Cerebral Palsy seemed to be the main culprits in this class, but they were nice. Their classroom was smaller than the aid room, but they had a store built into it that they ran between classes, during lunch, and for thirty minutes before and after school. The students ran it, then during class times they learned valuable life skills. There was a laundry area, a desk area, and a role playing center where they could pretend to do things before their weekly field trips. The first week of school, ECH was the field trip, but the cycle would start again soon.

The next three rooms were for the others. These kids were often just stupid, didn't want to be there, or had something just enough wrong with them that they couldn't be with normal kids. Binky was in these classes because no one cared that he was dyslexic. The way things had shaped up the last few years, he wondered if anyone cared at all.

Students in these classes were required to stop in right after breakfast if they ate at school. Binky lingered near the wing, trying to talk himself into going in there. He hated that place. Fights would happen almost daily until they could find an alternative solution (though they usually just expelled them, even the freshmen), and after that pranks would derail each class, as would intentionally dumb questions and other shenanigans.

He didn't want to go in there. Binky knew he would have a hard time in mainstream classes, as did his parents, but these courses were an insult. Binky told his parents, but there was nothing they could do. Mei-Lin had several expensive hobbies, and now that Binky had given up ballet, all the money they had left went to her. No private school, no private tutors. Binky was at the mercy of the public school system.

Molly sent a text letting Binky know she was on her way to the community college. She was having to walk and take the bus to get there, but Binky knew she could do it. He was glad she'd gotten out, but even happier that she'd somehow managed to make something of herself when the other TC's hadn't.
*-*-*-*
Sue Ellen entered her Honors English course and took a seat. It was a small class of only the most dedicated students, and she was happy to see the usual people. Classes like this meant they didn't have to fool with the masses of teenagers at that location who were just there to cut up, hook up, and mess up, as the group called it. They were probably the only clique in school too, but that was necessary to stay focused.

Honors English was a way for Sue Ellen to prove herself in a college-equivalent course. They had to read five novels over the summer and write a short research paper for each. Sue Ellen pulled out her Honors English binder and looked over her papers. She'd learned how to write them her sophomore year, a skill that had come in handy. She was already filling out scholarship forms and entering essay contests to raise money. By her account records, she already had enough saved up to pay for her first year of college just from the work she'd already done.

Senior year was a way for Sue Ellen to continue growing, though she wanted to graduate early. Such a thing was rare at Elwood City High, something she realized when she got closer to the previous graduates. All were smart enough to head to college, and many tried. The only way to make such a transition would be to drop out, ace the GED test, and move on from there, something most of their colleges wouldn't put up with. So they were stuck fulfilling every little mundane task for the school.

After the bell, the papers were retrieved by their eternally strict English teacher, Madam Hildebrand. She was a Frenchwoman who spent her college career learning the ways of English, literature, and other subjects. She was also their art history teacher, for example, plus she worked with the choir after school. Her work was important to her, and she insisted everyone else hold their studies in the same fashion.

As she worked around the room, Sue Ellen noticed a nervous new kid at the front of the room. He only had a binder and a few pencils on his desk, showing right away that he wasn't prepared. The school must've hurled him into the class, Sue Ellen thought, but she knew that even if the error was the school's fault, this boy was about to get railed.

The exchange was shocking to say the least. When Madam Hildebrand got to him, she addressed him in stern French. People exchanged glances as the rant continued and the boy got smaller in his seat. After a couple of minutes, the morning announcements started and ended her rant. She sat down with a huff at her desk and turned to her computer, all while the boy sat in his seat.

Margaret, another senior Sue Ellen considered herself close with, tapped Sue Ellen's elbow. When Sue Ellen turned around, Margaret leaned forward and whispered, “I took some French over the summer. She knows that kid and just let him have it for being irresponsible.”

“Do you think he's her son?” Sue Ellen asked. Margaret shrugged, but they both knew it was a possibility. Someone like Madam Hildebrand could have children, but she probably would force them to be as good, if not better than, her, which would definitely cause friction if they weren't exactly that good.

Sue Ellen studied the boy and felt sorry for him. She wanted to know his story, and she felt herself wanting to help him.

But she stopped herself from going too far. Helping him could put her own academic achievements at risk, and she wasn't about to drop her standards for anyone, even a handsome damsel in distress.  She knew she might not have a choice though depending on where her mind decided to take this new information.
*-*-*-*
Ladonna was still riding the bus. This wouldn't be so embarrassing if Bud wasn't right there with her first thing in the morning making up stories about her. Ever since she didn't stick up for him when he had a bully in fourth grade, they'd been the worst of enemies, almost as bad as countries that had gone to war and never really stopped.

She tried to ignore him. Bud was young and as naïve as she was at his age, but nothing hurt more than having your little brother be the one ruining your life.

Ladonna couldn't drive for a reason no one had told Bud yet. He kept spreading lies about how she was too anxious to drive and too scared to get behind the wheel, but that was far from the truth. Ladonna wanted to drive, she wanted to with a passion, but she knew she'd never be able to, not until self-driving cars became fully automated and safe. And she couldn't tell anyone the truth, not ever, because she didn't want them to treat her any differently, which she knew they would the moment they found out.

The reason Ladonna couldn't drive was that she was going blind. Her doctors gave her a few more years before her vision would be completely gone, but it was already so bad that her mother would have to help her read at night. The school wanted to assign her an aid for in-class assignments, but Ladonna refused the service. She didn't want anyone to know, so her goal was to have each teacher work with her and her parents about the situation. She hoped to take tests away from the others so she could have an aid then, but all other assignments would be something she'd go over at home then attempt to do in class.

Ladonna didn't know how she was going to pull off such a lie. Lies had backfired for her in the past, but she was lying to protect herself now. She didn't want to exaggerate the details or have anyone getting the wrong idea, but she knew that's exactly what would happen if anyone knew, especially Bud.

The bus stopped off at Lakewood Elementary and emptied out. Bud went inside to find his friends, but Ladonna joined the others moving to designated lines for the middle schools (three total now) and high school. Ladonna used an administrator to get in the right line, namely because she could barely make out facial features sometimes and reading the bus number would be impossible in the low morning light.

When the bus arrived, Ladonna made her way on board and thankfully found a seat right behind the driver. She peered out the window while sitting in the aisle seat, hoping no one would want to sit beside her. No one did as the bus's doors closed. Ladonna sighed with relief and moved towards the window, not that looking out did much good. She could still tell the difference between buildings, trees, and whatnot, but almost everything was one big blur.

Sometimes she wondered if the doctor was full of it, and days like this made her believe he was. Ladonna wasn't totally blind yet, but she felt blind enough.  She probably did need that aid, but she needed her dignity more. She'd drop out before she let them take that away from her, and she'd kill her brother if he ever tried to help.