Noah
Nick Bennett didn't accuse me; he just let everyone else reach the natural conclusion on their own.
The exams were cancelled and rescheduled, the charity money was gone, and the entire student body was furious about the extra weeks of studying.
Every single eye in that building turned on me with pure hatred.
The moment that officially broke me happened later that week. I was standing by my locker, holding my heavy bag in my hands, when my favorite history teacher walked past.
He stopped for a second, looked at me with deep, genuine disappointment, and said quietly, "I expected much better from you, Noah."
I was seventeen years old. The hallway felt a mile long, and there were too many faces looking at me, none of them kind.
