Free Singled Out by Sara Griffiths
Authors: Sara Griffiths
really just happen? I was too tired to think. I peeled off my clothes, throwing them on my closet floor, slipped into my black yoga pants and a clean t-shirt, and climbed into bed. There was no point thinking about any of this now, when I couldn’t think clearly.
Exhaustion won out for the moment.
Chapter 10
T he clock read 10:43 when I woke up. It took me a minute to realize it was Saturday morning, and to remember where I had woken up five hours earlier— in Sam Barrett’s dorm room.
I sat up and tried to figure out what to do. Should I tell someone what happened? I got out of bed and hustled down the hall to the bathroom. I had never needed a shower more. I cranked the temperature up and stepped in.
As I showered, I thought about how Sam had said I passed out in the hallway near his room. But my mind refused to believe that story. The last place I remembered being conscious was in the hallway outside of the gym, so how could I have made it all the way across campus, into his dorm, and then up three floors to his room? That wasn’t possible. Someone must have carried me up there.
I shut off the water and wrapped a towel around my hair. And then I remembered something else. I remembered someone telling me to get up. “Get up. We have to move.” But who was it? What had happened to me during the hours I was out? I was afraid to even imagine.
As I got dressed, I considered what to do with the dirty pile of clothes on the closet floor. I took out Barrett’s t-shirt and looked around the room for someplace to put it. I thoughtabout throwing it away, but I worried that someone might see it, so I stuffed it into the bottom of one of my dresser drawers for the time being. The dress and sweater went into my laundry basket. Today was definitely a good day to do some laundry, so Mrs. Richards wouldn’t find or smell the dress or the sweater.
When I finally got downstairs, Mrs. Richards was in the kitchen. “Hey, Taylor, you’re a little late for breakfast. Would you like to have lunch with Matthew?” she said.
I was starving. “Yeah, that would be great.”
“I guess this is what it’s like to be a teenager, huh? Sleeping ’til noon?”
“Sorry about that. I guess I’ve been working out too much.”
“Oh, no problem. A little extra sleep never hurt anybody. Wish this little guy would sleep in once in a while,” she said, putting a cheese stick in Matthew’s hand. “How was the dance?”
“Uh, okay. Not too painful.”
“You were home early enough.”
“Yeah. Wasn’t really my scene.”
As I wolfed down two grilled cheese sandwiches, Dr. Rich walked into the kitchen. “Good morning, young lady. Or should I say, ‘Good afternoon’?”
“Hi,” I said, still chewing.
“When you’re done with lunch, come see me in the den.”
I nodded as I chewed, but my stomach turned. Uh-oh. He knows. I quickly finished the rest of my lunch and made my way toward the den. I figured, why delay the inevitable?
“Taylor, have a seat. I want to talk to you about something.”
I sat down. Should I say something about last night before he does? Would he believe me this time?
“I received a call this morning from your math teacher.”
A different uh-oh.
“He informed me that you failed your first two quizzes. He also said he checked with your other teachers, and you’re pulling just a C or so in all of your courses.”
I winced. Like I needed this today.
“Now, I know that you are here on a scholarship for athletics, but in order to keep that scholarship, you have to maintain a C average or better in all your courses or, come springtime, you won’t be able to play baseball. And to be honest, they may withdraw your scholarship by the end of this semester, unless your grades improve.”
“Withdraw?”
“Take it away and send you back home.”
I was embarrassed. Dr. Rich had been so nice to me, and I was letting him down. “I’m really sorry, Dr. Rich.”
“Well, you don’t have to be sorry.
Exhaustion won out for the moment.
Chapter 10
T he clock read 10:43 when I woke up. It took me a minute to realize it was Saturday morning, and to remember where I had woken up five hours earlier— in Sam Barrett’s dorm room.
I sat up and tried to figure out what to do. Should I tell someone what happened? I got out of bed and hustled down the hall to the bathroom. I had never needed a shower more. I cranked the temperature up and stepped in.
As I showered, I thought about how Sam had said I passed out in the hallway near his room. But my mind refused to believe that story. The last place I remembered being conscious was in the hallway outside of the gym, so how could I have made it all the way across campus, into his dorm, and then up three floors to his room? That wasn’t possible. Someone must have carried me up there.
I shut off the water and wrapped a towel around my hair. And then I remembered something else. I remembered someone telling me to get up. “Get up. We have to move.” But who was it? What had happened to me during the hours I was out? I was afraid to even imagine.
As I got dressed, I considered what to do with the dirty pile of clothes on the closet floor. I took out Barrett’s t-shirt and looked around the room for someplace to put it. I thoughtabout throwing it away, but I worried that someone might see it, so I stuffed it into the bottom of one of my dresser drawers for the time being. The dress and sweater went into my laundry basket. Today was definitely a good day to do some laundry, so Mrs. Richards wouldn’t find or smell the dress or the sweater.
When I finally got downstairs, Mrs. Richards was in the kitchen. “Hey, Taylor, you’re a little late for breakfast. Would you like to have lunch with Matthew?” she said.
I was starving. “Yeah, that would be great.”
“I guess this is what it’s like to be a teenager, huh? Sleeping ’til noon?”
“Sorry about that. I guess I’ve been working out too much.”
“Oh, no problem. A little extra sleep never hurt anybody. Wish this little guy would sleep in once in a while,” she said, putting a cheese stick in Matthew’s hand. “How was the dance?”
“Uh, okay. Not too painful.”
“You were home early enough.”
“Yeah. Wasn’t really my scene.”
As I wolfed down two grilled cheese sandwiches, Dr. Rich walked into the kitchen. “Good morning, young lady. Or should I say, ‘Good afternoon’?”
“Hi,” I said, still chewing.
“When you’re done with lunch, come see me in the den.”
I nodded as I chewed, but my stomach turned. Uh-oh. He knows. I quickly finished the rest of my lunch and made my way toward the den. I figured, why delay the inevitable?
“Taylor, have a seat. I want to talk to you about something.”
I sat down. Should I say something about last night before he does? Would he believe me this time?
“I received a call this morning from your math teacher.”
A different uh-oh.
“He informed me that you failed your first two quizzes. He also said he checked with your other teachers, and you’re pulling just a C or so in all of your courses.”
I winced. Like I needed this today.
“Now, I know that you are here on a scholarship for athletics, but in order to keep that scholarship, you have to maintain a C average or better in all your courses or, come springtime, you won’t be able to play baseball. And to be honest, they may withdraw your scholarship by the end of this semester, unless your grades improve.”
“Withdraw?”
“Take it away and send you back home.”
I was embarrassed. Dr. Rich had been so nice to me, and I was letting him down. “I’m really sorry, Dr. Rich.”
“Well, you don’t have to be sorry.