Bully Years Senior Year （Summer）
AUDREY
Subject: Come See Me Before Enrolling in Makeup Classes
Isat in the senior principal’s office, waiting for him to say whatever rhetoric he needed to say. I knew that missing months of school meant summer classes—personal mourning or not—and most of the colleges that had accepted me early would still want a transcript that reflected the spring semester.
Tapping my shoe against the floor, I took out my phone and scrolled to Taylor’s name, but I hesitated.
As “nice” as he’d been to me for the first few months since the tragedy, lately he’d been sporadic, most of his time spent getting ready to play college football.
That asshole didn’t even tell me what college he picked…
“Did you say asshole, Miss Parker?” Principal Owen’s voice made me look up.
“Not at all, sir.” I stood quickly. “Sorry.”
“Follow me.” He gestured for me to step inside his office and offered me a chair.
“So… I assume you know what this is about, right?” He sat across from me.
“Yes, and I swear I can handle whatever course load I have to complete this summer. I’ll get everything done.”
“Ha!” He laughed. “You don’t have to take any summer classes, not with your level of work ethic.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your teachers were so impressed with the depth of your writing and attention to detail that they wrote on your behalf to all the colleges where you applied.”
I blinked a few times, softly pinched myself under the table to make sure I was still in reality.
“With all due respect,” I said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Okay.” He winked. “You can continue being modest. You’ll go really far in life with that attitude.”
He kept talking—waxing poetic about my work ethic, my supposed resilience, how “inspiring” I was.
When he finally finished, he handed me a huge binder with my name on it.
It was full of typed essays and analyses I’d never written, completed assignments I’d never seen.
The handwriting looked like mine at first glance, but the extra slant on every l and b looked like someone trying too hard to throw off suspicion.
This was Taylor’s…
Tears pricked my eyes, and my heart swelled.
All I could do was tell the principal thank you and rush back to my car before I broke down completely.
Hey Taylor…
I’m not sure why you did that for me, given our last conversation, but… thank you.
Thank you very much, and best of luck in the real world.
Take care, Audrey
P.S. Your forging skills will take you far in life if college or football doesn’t work out.
P.P.S. Are you majoring in writing, or just focusing on football? (You should try to do both, if you can.)
He didn’t text me back.