The Dream on Whipplehill

Turns out Dennis isn't just awkward, he's a nerd!

Dennis tried to ignore the aching muscles in his back as he tried to fill in the bubbles of the SAT test exactly as instructed. He wasn't going to risk being marked off for going outside of the lines.

His hands fumbled on the edge of his paper as he read the next problem, accidentally wrinkling the sheet. The sharp eyed supervisor, Ms. Thorne, snapped her head over to him, eyes narrowing inside the frames of her gaudy pink glasses.

Dennis immediately tried to break eye contact, feeling his armpits start sweating from his nerves. His sweat glands seemed to be particularly responsive when he was around other people. He managed to tear his eyes away, faze frozen with embarrassment as he finished reading the problem. Easy.

He carefully bubbled in the last question and allowed himself a triumphant grin as he reverently held the paper in his hands like a one thousand dollar check. The test seemed to be an exact copy of the workbooks at home, which was good since if Dennis ever stumbled on a problem, is brain would over think and break down. And that could ruin his chances of a full scholarship.

Gripping the test tighter in his hands, he thought about the trophy that meant a full scholarship into Glendale University: the distinguished school that was his ticket out. It wasn't the money. Dennis's mom would be able to pay for any college, but never for one outside of a fifty mile radius.

He looked out the window at yet another gloomy day, the airs filled with gases and smoke. A dog tethered to a drooping tree rested its head mournfully on its paws, waiting for its owner to return. Whenever anyone passed by, it would growl and bare its teeth. The cars puttering along the roads at a slow pace were all different shades of gray, without a single trace of color. This town seemed to be permanently set in autumn, but the trees were dark looming evergreens that wouldn't become gold and red as they drifted to the ground. It was always cold, but many of the kids in the town had never seen a snowflake. The wind would be just enough to chill your bones, but never a strong gale to fly kites in. And of course, the infamous Fading Crisis that plagued, people of Whipplehill, tore apart families and took away innocent children.

To stay here would be torture.

Dennis had fantasized about going to the other side of the country for the longest time, from cutting out the glossy photos of the University from magazines or researching how many students would leave and be accepted each year. And now, this was his chance. At 16, he could be considered a college applicant.

Dennis didn't realize how tensed up he was. His clammy palms had left wet marks on his paper, something that definitely wouldn't earn him extra credit. He quickly released the paper, dropping it on the floor. When he scrambled to pick it up, he clumsily hit the chair of the person studying next to him.

“Sorry,” He whispered sheepishly, slowly straightening back up so he wouldn't hit his head.

The girl taking the test next to him glanced over, scoffed, and turned away.

Rubbing his eyes, Dennis realized how tired he was. He had stayed up late filling out his third practice test, all while feverishly waiting for updates on where to submit his essays. Don't fall asleep in public! His eyes were drooping, shoulders relaxing. Sleep sounded good. Maybe if he made it seem like he was just resting his head on his hand, it wouldn't be awkward. Just a little more-

“Time!” Ms. Thorne shrieked, “Pencils down, time's up you little nuggets! I repeat, no more writing.” She narrowed her eyes at a lanky Indian teen who was desperately trying to fill in the last bubble. “Hey! Skinny boy! I said to stop.”

Meekly, the boy stopped, obviously upset for not being able to finish.

Ms. Thorne continued to babble on about how she would collect their tests. Dennis noticed something on her desk. A picture of a younger version of her, standing in front of a deep red building with white lining. The exact same color pallet as the photos of Whipplehill dorms. Did she go to Glendale University? I should ask her, At the very thought of starting a conversation, Dennis felt antsy. Maybe some other time. A fizz of excitement run up and down his spine as he thought about being able to walk into that red and white dorm and call it home.

He had to get the scholarship or he would never escape. Looking around the test room, the kids were obviously rich and able to afford vacations. They could fly out of the town whenever they wanted on a private jet, and explore colorful places all around the world.

Only, if Dennis got away, he wasn’t returning. Ever. He was snapped out of his thoughts by someone calling his name.

“Dennis! Pass up your paper already!” Ms. Thorne stood in front of his desk, a bundle of test papers in one hand and the other reaching for his.

Caught off guard, Dennis let out a series of unintelligible noises before gathering himself. He passed the paper to her, sighing in relief when he didn't drop it. His gaze lingered on the front page of his test when he realized: he didn’t write his name.

He waved his hand, futilely trying to get Ms. Thorne’s attention. He waited for a response before trying again, this time with both hands. A couple of the students there him weird looks. He cleared his throat with a barely audible ‘ahem’ and said,

“M-miss?”

She ignored him, continuing down the line of students and collecting tests. Dennis internally panicked, Should I call her by name? Would that be weird? Gathering what little courage he had, Dennis decided to go for it. Hastily holding back a sneeze that had built up at the last moment, he choked out a, “Ms. Thorne!”

She whipped her head back at him, frowning. “No talking. Was that you Dennis? I thought you were a goody two shoes. See me after class.”

Oh boy. That was not the right thing to do. Dennis tried to hide his blush in his hoodie as the other kids threw mocking glances at him, snickering. He felt like an ice cube in the middle of flickering flames, in the center and melting from the heat. His hands were sweaty again, and he tried to discreetly wipe them on his pants.

Would this get him in trouble? If his mom found out that he had been taking the class in the first place, he could say goodbye to Glendale.

Suddenly, he realized that all the students had filed out and he was still slouching on the chair, suffocating on his hood. He jumped up and shuffled over to Ms. Thorne’s desk.

“Dennis,” She sat down heavily, disapproval lacing through her voice, “I know you weren't really talking in class.”

Dennis exhaled deeply, “So, I'm not in trouble?”

The teacher let a small smile show, “No, you're not. I called you here for something else.”

That made him nervous again. Had Glendale already rejected him? Was he being kicked out of class? Did his grades drop?

She opened her mouth, about to say something, when she seemed to change her mind.

“By the way, you already wrote your name on the page. You were looking at someone else's test.”

Oh. He nodded sheepishly, "Sorry."

“Don't apologize,” She said, eyes growing unfocused.

“I went to Glendale University- yep, the Glendale.” Ms. Thorne added, noting the look on Dennis’s face.

“And I did it to get away from our dreary town. And of course, I hoped that I wouldn't be cursed by the Fading.” She laughed bitterly.

Dennis tilted his head slightly, confused by why anyone would have bad memories of Glendale.

And just then, she looked him right in the eyes, and he could see all of the wear and worry in her face.

“Glendale is your dream school, if I'm not mistaken.”

Dennis nodded furiously.

“Don't go. Try for something else. Anything else.”

He stumbled backward, “What?”

“See you next week.” Ms. Thorne receded back into her grumpy persona.

Dennis' head spun. Here, his serious and irritable teacher was warning him not to go to the school he had been pining after for years. Why did she care now?

He grabbed his bag and textbooks, speed walking to the door.

Faintly, as he stepped away, he thought that he heard a soft “Don't go to Glendale…”

Author's Note

Wrote this extremely late at night/morning, so please let me know about repeated words/phrases!