Page 23 of Fighting the Odds

When Dad pulled us out of school yesterday so he could explain the situation to us, he talked with their case manager and found out that Sam and Sierra couldn’t be together due to some fuckwad accusing her of abusing Sam. As if she could or would ever do that.

Watching Sam just sit there with tear-filled eyes was hard. We tried to cheer her up by watching a movie, promising her that Sierra was okay and they’d be back together soon. I just hope it’s a promise that we don’t break.

Braxton and I have messaged Sierra, but Colt wants to talk to her in person. I just wish we knew when she will be back, or if she’s even coming back. She apparently had a family member step up to take her in. I just hope they’re better than the aunt she was living with.

While the teacher has his back turned, I pull out my phone, keeping it under my desk, and text Sierra. I’m going to keep doing it until she answers. I want her to know that no matter what, I’m here for her.

Me: Sierra please let me know you’re okay

I stare at the phone and wait, praying I’ll see the dancing bubbles. But there’s nothing. Now it’s a waiting game.

My hope was high that she would text me back. I’m hoping the reason she hasn’t isn’t that something has happened to her. I hear the screeching of desks around me as people start to leave, bumping into my elbow as they walk down the aisle.

Did the bell ring? How did forty minutes pass by so quickly? It feels like it’s only been ten minutes since class started.

Standing up, I hold my phone in my hand and pull the strap of my bookbag over my shoulder. Slowly, I make my way into the hallway. I probably look like a zombie with the way my feet are shuffling. Since that day, I’ve felt like a stand in on The Walking Dead.

“I haven’t seen her? Have you?” Braxton’s deep voice comes from beside me. I hadn’t even noticed him walking toward me.

“No, but I wasn’t expecting her to be here. Were you?”

“I wasn’t sure, but I was optimistic. I’m beginning to think she’s not coming back. For all we know, her family member lives in another school district or state. Dad said he didn’t have any information on who they were or where they lived.”

The rest of the morning, we go through the motions, going from class to class, taking notes, and speaking only when we need to. It’s lunch, so we go to the spot where Sierra usually eats, and even Colt joins us. We don’t say anything while we eat our sandwiches—we don’t need to. In some way, sitting here makes us feel closer to her. Well, I know it does for Brax and me. Colt is still processing how awful he acted toward her, allowing others’ opinions to manipulate his own. He’s spent most of the day watching us from a distance.

The shrill of the bell rings and we start packing up.

“I’ll see you two later. Let me know if she contacts you.” The regret is consuming him.

“We will. See you later. Dad said he wanted us to come straight home today,” I remind him, not wanting him to get sucked in to hanging out with Wes after school. I know how manipulative Wes has been with Colt and I don’t want him sucking him back in.

Brax and I take off in the opposite direction, heading to Trigonometry. It sucks that Sierra isn’t in class with us, but we both will be taking notes, so we can help her catch up. Not that she needs it. From the brief time we’ve known her, it’s clear she is smart as hell.

“You think she’s okay?” Brax leans into me and whispers as we take our seats.

“I don’t know. She looked so bad that day when we showed up. And that guy? I’m still trying to figure it out. How could we have not known she was being abused ? We’ve been there before. We know all the warning signs. How were we so oblivious to them, B?”

“I don’t know. It kills me we didn’t do more. If we had only told Dad about what was happening at school, maybe he could have checked in on her home life and found out what was happening before Wes called and made a report. Then her and Sam could be together.”

“That’s the thing, Braxton, we don’t know that they would have been. They could’ve still ended up separated. We don’t know that Dad would’ve taken them both in.”

Before we can say anything else, Mr. Johnson steps in and announces a pop quiz. The sound of groaning fills the room. Fuck me, I haven’t studied for days. Not to mention, I’m screwed if there’s anything from yesterday on the quiz since we weren’t here.

A horrifying fifteen minutes later, our teacher calls time and I feel like I’ve been put through the wringer. I knew maybe half the shit that was on the quiz, and I start to wonder if Braxton fared any better. Looking over, I see him place his pencil on the table. His face is pale and you can see the sweat beading on his forehead. Yep, he bombed it too. I hope there’s extra credit we can do.

“Pass your papers to the front,” Mr. Johnson announces as he moves over to the far side of the room. He slowly takes his time, looking over some of them as he picks up the stacks from each row. The frown on his face is a sure sign he’s not liking what he’s seeing. Guess we all did a crap job on this quiz.

“Just a precursory glance over the papers tells me either there was a significant misunderstanding of the material taught yesterday, or no one took the time to do the assignment for homework.” He lets out a sigh as he drops the quiz papers on the corner of his desk.

I want to sink down as far as I can at my desk. Dad’s going to kill me if I get a bad grade. Braxton taps me on my arm and when I turn to look at him, he’s taking his finger and running it across his neck. Yep, Dad’s going to be pissed.

“So we’re going to review all the material, and I will give each of you a second opportunity to retake the quiz. I’ll average the two grades together, and that will be your final score.” He picks up a piece of chalk, puts a problem on the board, and goes through the steps to solve it.

I pay close fucking attention to every word he says. God help me, I need a perfect score on the next quiz.

The bell rings, signaling the end of class. I shut my book, shoving it and my notebook into my bookbag.

I get a bright idea and make my way to Mr. Johnson’s desk. Thankfully, the other students have left the room in a hurry, so I don’t have to dodge around them.

---