Page 2 of Changing Grades

It was always a hard balance to find, and money often seemed to be the dividing line between classmates. It wasn’t right and the judgement some kids came up against always turned my stomach. I hated it, but I had no idea what to do about it as a kid, even though I loved to think of myself as more grown up than I was.

Now, I’ve struggled with my own place in the world when it comes to what I earn because I made the choice to leave college. I always thought I’d go back, but I didn’t. It’s not something I can regret anymore. I refuse to look back.

I’m nervous when I get to my old high school, a little surprised the reunion is in the gym and not some hotel conference room, but there’s a sense of nostalgia as I pull up and take in my old stomping grounds. I haven’t been back here in years, and it looks like there have been some updates. That’s probably why they decided to have the reunion here—I bet they’re going to try and get some alumni donations out of us for even more renovations.

There are a few people walking in from the parking lot, but no one I recognize right away. I’m thankful for it because I don’t know if I’m ready to confront all of those ‘what are you doing now’ questions I know are waiting for me. I’ll have to deal with them soon and being here alone isn’t going to help matters.

Fuck. Maybe this was a bad idea.

When I force my feet to step up to the table set up in the vestibule of the gym, the streamers and balloons decorating the area in the school’s colors make me smile. I force myself to keep my smile in place when I notice the woman sitting at the table eyeing me. I don’t look all that different, I don’t think, but how would I be able to tell that?

Sharon was both smart and one of those mean girls, it was kind of an awful combination. Thankfully she didn’t fully fall into the cliché of being head cheerleader as well. No, but her best friend was. Sharon also happened to be the class president senior year.

I guess it makes sense she’s sitting front and center at a table filled with nametags.

“Sienna?” Sharon’s voice is just as annoying as I remember it being. She stands up quickly, comes around the table, and hugs me before I can put a stop to it. “Wow.” She pulls away from me and holds me at arm’s length. “You look amazing. I don’t think I’ve seen you since graduation.”

“You look great too, Sharon,” I force my voice to be brighter than I’m feeling.

It all feels so fake. Was it always this way and I just didn’t notice back then? I’m already exhausted.

“I’d love to catch up with you, but I have to man the table for a little while longer and greet everyone.” She turns and plucks my nametag from the table and hands it to me. “You go inside and see who there is to see. I’ll catch up with you. I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to for the last 15 years.”

I smile at her and nod. “Sounds good,” I chirp, not feeling the words at all.

I’m a horrible actress and she can probably see right through me, but I don’t care. I’m already striding away, feeling more and more inferior with every step. How am I going to get through tonight?

Everyone—from my parents, the teachers, and even the other students—had high expectations of me back in school. I got into a prestigious college and thought I had everything planned out. It was going well too…until it wasn’t.

Not that I regret Callie, not at all, but it changed the path of my life. I’m sure other people stayed on their paths. Maybe others went even farther than they thought they were going to.

Part of me doesn’t even care. Another part is desperate to know.

I make a beeline for the bar, noticing right away how many people are looking at me. I wouldn’t mind, but there is more than one guy leering at me, and it only makes it hit home that I’m alone here tonight. No date. No one to buffer unwanted advances.

Maybe I won’t stay long. I can only hope to get out of this with my dignity and my self-worth intact.

I shouldn’t have come.

CHAPTER 2

GRIFFIN

As I look up at my high school, a place I haven’t been since I graduated 15 years ago, I regret letting my friends talk me into coming here. I don’t have a damn thing to prove to these people. I shouldn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks of me, and I don’t.

Yet here I am.

The day after I found out about my reunion, I was quieter than normal while working with the rest of the guys of my construction crew. They all picked up on it. I should have known Lawson, our foreman, wasn’t going to just let it go without asking what was going on with me.

He’s like that and it’s one of the reasons he makes a great leader for our crew. He also wants to make sure our heads are in the game. It might not always be dangerous on site, but it’s not some cushy desk job either. Fucking thankfully. I would pull my hair out if I were stuck in some cubicle somewhere.

“What’s eating at you, Griffin?” Lawson was looking at me curiously and before I could even open my mouth he added, “Don’t try and tell me nothing either. It’s written all over your face.”

I let out a long-suffering sigh and my shoulders slumped. “I found out about my 15-year high school reunion. I avoided the last one and didn’t give a fuck about not going. Found out, dismissed it, and then didn’t think about it again.”

“But this one, you can’t seem to let it go,” he didn’t pose it as a question, just as a fact and I nodded as I noticed everyone was listening in.

Court, who isn’t usually one to get involved, came closer and mused, “Sounds like you need to go.”

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