At the Crossroads Read Online Free PDF Page B

from New Orleans after the storms in which he lost both of his parentsand was trying to find new traction in a new city. After a three-year battle with depression, he was finally ready to move on with his life. They even practiced what they would say if the school officials asked certain questions, but they were pleasantly surprised when the nice lady behind the desk didn’t dig too deep. She said they had an influx of people from New Orleans, and special arrangements were made for the displaced.
    “What grade did you last complete, Franky?” Mrs. Bromfield, the school’s registrar and secretary, asked.
    “Sixth,” he answered honestly. “But I—”
    “Don’t worry about it. We’ll test you and see where you fit in,” she said, reading the worried expression on Franky’s face.
    “He’s a smart boy,” Mrs. Bertha said. “Just been through a lot in his young life.”
    “I understand,” Mrs. Bromfield said, nodding sympathetically at Franky. “I can only imagine. You’ll have ninety days to get us a copy of his birth certificate, but if you need more time, just let us know.”
    “Okay,” Mrs. Bertha said.
    Franky wasn’t sure how he was going to go about obtaining any of his records, but he had time to figure it out. Right now he was only interested in hearing that he could stay in high school.
    “When can I take the test? I was already reading three levels above my class at my last school. And I was taking algebra in sixth grade,” he bragged.
    “That’s great,” Mrs. Bromfield said. “You will be fine. What is the name of the last school you attended?”
    “Jimrose Academy,” he said. “It’s a private school in New Orleans.”
    “Thank you,” Mrs. Bromfield said as she tapped away at her computer. “I’m sure this is a far cry from that, but it’ll be what you make it, Mr. Bourgeois. Some of our kids do very well academically and others not so good. It’s all about the work you put in and the people you associate with. I tell everyone who walks through that door—association breeds assimilation. You hang with scholars, then more than likely you will be a scholar. If you hang with nutcases, well … more than likely you’ll be a nutcase. Pretty simple, don’t you think?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Franky said.
    He looked over at Mrs. Bertha, who only nodded at him as if to say he was doing fine.
    “Here is your schedule and your locker number and combination. You will use these numbers right for your lunch. There is a little box at the end of the line. You’ll see what I mean when you get there,” she said, pointing at the top of his page. “Now, if you will have a seat in that chair.”
    Franky sat in the chair situated in front of a white background. Mrs. Bromfield came out with a camera and pointed it at him. “Say cheese,” she said, snapping the picture. “Now, if you will fill out this information, I will get your identification card ready.”
    “When do I take the test?” Franky asked.
    “You will take the placement exam no later than Friday, and once we get your scores back, we may or may not change your classes,” Mrs. Bromfield said.
    “Okay,” Franky said, taking in all of the information.
    “Right now you are taking basic freshman classes. Good luck. Oh,” Mrs. Bromfield said. “I almost forgot. Do you need a bus schedule?”
    I wouldn’t dare get on one of those cheese buses, he thought.
    “No, ma’am. We live only a few blocks away. I can walk,” Franky said, taking the paper and standing up.
    “Well, Franky, you seem to be a very bright young man. Don’t let anyone influence you to change that,” Mrs. Bromfield said before handing him his identification card and reaching out to shake his hand. “Good luck, but I’m sure you’ll do well.”
    “Thanks,” Franky said, shaking her hand. “I’m looking forward to it.”
    “Make sure you wear your ID at all times. If you lose it, you’ll need to come see me right away. The security guards are pretty