Dark Hope Read Online Free PDF Page A

and waited with a sinking feeling for him to continue.
    “Watch this!” He plopped down on my seat, deliberately crashing into me, and proceeded to belch the alphabet at me. My face burned with embarrassment. The entire bus seemed to be laughingat my discomfort. I huddled next to the window, trying to make myself as small as possible. Emboldened, the boy snatched my hat and began playing keep-away with his friends. Instinctively, I felt for my scarf, making sure it was still wrapped safely around my neck, its ends tucked away where nobody could get them.
    What if I’d made a mistake coming to this school? How would I ever fit in if I couldn’t even handle this?
    As soon as the bus lurched into its parking spot, I dashed out of my seat, climbing past the boy and into the aisle.
    “New girl, wait up!” he called.
    I pushed through the door, not bothering to respond to the moronic boy. Dunwoody High was bigger than I thought: two stories of gleaming glass and clean brick, surrounded by massive parking lots and playing fields. Buses were disgorging kids and a steady buzz was already building from the crowd. I squared my shoulders and walked through the set of double doors, willing my stomach to be calm.
    A tide of students rushing through the hallways swept me into its current. People jostled about me, not paying me any notice as they bumped and pushed me aside. I looked around and realized with relief that I’d lost the horrible boy from the bus. It would be easy to get lost in the shuffle here, I thought, in a good way. I resisted the temptation to pull out any of the detailed lists and maps my mom had compiled for me—too conspicuous—and instead felt my way to the front office.
    “What is it, sweetie? Do you need the nurse?” the bustling woman at the front counter demanded as I crossed the threshold. It was an oasis of quiet compared to the hallway, and I felt wrong interrupting it.
    “Um, no, ma’am, I’m just checking in. I’m a new student starting today—Hope Carmichael?”
    I braced myself for the knowing look of recognition and curiosity that always came after I announced my name, but the woman gave no sign of having heard of me. Instead she started shuffling through piles of papers. Maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all.
    “Carmichael … Carmichael … ah, yes, here it is, Carmichael!” She triumphantly produced a clipped set of pages from the bottom of the pile. “Your mother was in here last week. Quite a handful. Very on top of the details, shall we say.” She rolled her eyes at the memory.
    “That sounds like her,” I said, smiling to myself.
    “You probably have your entire schedule already, don’t you?” she said, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Your mother wouldn’t leave until she had that. All your papers were in order; she made sure of that well in advance. So just run along to your homeroom.” She ran her finger down the page in front of her. “Home economics, Mrs. Raburn. Second floor.”
    As I was swinging my backpack over my shoulder, though, she called out, “No, wait. Note here says there’s been a change. Wait over there on the bench, honey, and let me see what this is all about.” She bustled away into a back room while I stood, waiting.
    She came bustling back, clucking like a mother hen. “I don’t know what happened, dear, but you’ll just have to make the best of it. Room 107—past the gym.”
    “What is it?” I said, peering at the slip of paper she handed me.
    “Shop, dear. Now run along, and be sure to give Mr. Reynolds that hall pass, or you will get a tardy.”
    Of course I got lost when I tried to find my locker. The bell had rung, sending everyone scurrying into their classrooms like cockroaches fleeing the sudden light, leaving me to wander until I accidentally found the gym and then, past it, room 107.
    I stood outside the door. The smell of grease and tar wafted outto me, making me want to gag. I rewrapped my scarf, like a ritual, and pushed