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A Ray Of Hope, "When all seemed lost, hope was on the horizon."

By Joy Victor

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CHAPTER ONE: August 22, 1990

The big-hunk-of-yellow-metal-on-four-wheels came to a screeching halt at the curb of Norstead High School. The old school bus gave a slight jolt forward as if it didn’t want to stop, then gave a sputtering sigh.
Jessica could relate. She’d rather not stop, either. She let out her own dramatic sigh as she looked out the dusty windowpane. Her gaze zeroed in on the entrance to the so-called high school. Right. There was nothing higher about this school. There were a few other adjectives Jessica could use to describe it.
All three of her older sisters had made it through the institution—mostly unscathed. Jessica knew that was how she had made it through her freshman year intact. Emily, her sister closest in age to her, was a senior then. The standing rule was not to mess with seniors with hierarchy or their circle of friends.
For that reason, Jessica had been exempted from the horrific freshman initiations and also escaped the wrath of her nemesis. Stephanie. The head cheerleader. The very one who had sabotaged Jessica’s cheerleading tryouts in junior high. For some reason, she hated Jessica. She and her whole cheerleading squad slash gang. They made up for more than half of the votes in cheerleading tryouts, and they all had voted against her. She had been practicing for months and had the cheers and stunts down to perfection. A cartwheel, a roundoff, the splits (all three types), and even a cartwheel flip which wasn’t required. Not only did they vote against her, but they had voted her the top choice for mascot—a boar.
Mrs. Gallagher, the math teacher, and a judge in the tryouts, questioned the results after overhearing one of them admit to what they had done. It didn’t change anything—and Jessica didn’t expect it to. Jessica’s mom had been waiting for her on the front porch to ask if she made the team. When she gave her mom the news, Hannah had a certain look in her eyes, like she knew something wasn’t right. Jessica never told her what she suspected—what she knew. It would’ve only made things worse.
She shuffled along the aisle towards the front of the bus, the realization loud and clear in the forefront of her brain. She was no longer in that circle of protection. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she took a deep breath and blew it out.
The pupils around her looked about as excited as she was to start another school year. She knew most of them—one of the so-called benefits of living in a small town. Foxley, Missouri, was home to a whopping 826 people. Eight-hundred twenty-six humans who knew the business of everyone else. They didn’t need a local newspaper. The gossip grapevine was more than enough to supply everyone with their local “news.”
Jessica navigated the last step from the bus to the curb and looked eagerly for her best friend, Morgan. They had become inseparable since Morgan and her family moved to the area in the sixth grade. She rode on a different bus since she lived on the outskirts of town. Jessica didn’t see her among the throng of teenagers, so she meandered toward the double doors. She navigated through the crowded hallway, the smell of freshly waxed floors and cologne invading her senses. She recognized the fragrance as Polo—the most popular cologne among guys—and some went overboard with it. It was enough to cause her eyes to burn. She reached locker number twenty-seven and opened her book bag, preparing to unload her school supplies. She ignored the bustling activity around her, guys and girls navigating their way to their designated lockers. They were assigned by last names, and since her and Morgan’s last names started with a “C,” they were next to each other. Jessica was thankful for that; they had to look out for one another. Jessica deposited her book bag inside her locker as Morgan approached.
“Hey there!” Morgan said, a bit out of breath, her spiral curls bouncing. “My sister overslept, and we almost missed the bus!” She dropped her bookbag to the floor and leaned in for a sideways hug.
“Would that be so bad?” Jessica queried, returning the one-armed squeeze.
Morgan’s brow arched. “Come to think of it…no. But, only six more months until no more bus!”
“Seven more months!” Jessica said at the same time as Morgan, and they giggled. Both were counting down the days to their sixteenth birthdays.
They closed their locker doors and fell in step together through the crowded hallway. They had the same class for first- hour—English II, and it was on the opposite side of the building. The bell rang, signaling they had five minutes to get to class, but no one seemed to be in any great hurry. Teens were huddled together, talking. The factions were already forming. Jessica and Morgan weren’t a part of any of the cliques. They weren’t cheerleaders, jocks, preps, or hicks—and they didn’t sleep around. Jessica had been shocked by the sleeping around statistic her first year in high school. Perhaps she had been a little sheltered growing up, but even so, she had no interest in sex at fifteen. She was raised to believe sex came after marriage and had been a little naïve to think that everyone—or at least most of her peers—shared that value. Boy, was she wrong. Her freshman year had been a real eye-opener, and her naivety diminished a whole lot that year. She was still on the shy side, and so was Morgan—which had earned them a label of snobs. There was another word that went along with it that Jessica didn’t care to repeat. The one time she had repeated the b-word, she got a slap across the face from her mom. Cussing was not allowed in her home.
“So…” Jessica began, as they turned the corner to the west hallway, “Do you think your mom will let you drive her Mustang when you get your license?”
Jessica fell in love with Melanie’s convertible from the first time she rode in it with the top down. Though, she had learned a lesson that day.
She could still hear Melanie’s teasing scold: “Never blow a bubble with your gum while riding in a convertible!” What a disaster it had been! A chunk of her hair had to be cut. Thankfully, she had more than enough hair, so the missing strands weren’t noticeable.
“I seriously doubt it! You know mom…she treats her Mustang like her—.”
“Baby?” Jessica finished for her, then saw what had captured Morgan’s attention. Stephanie and her gang were huddled together just a few feet ahead. All six of them with their gaze zeroed in on them. “Just ignore them.”
As soon as Jessica said it, they started snickering, covering their mouths, pointing at them as if they were all back in grade school.
“Right,” Morgan said, rolling her eyes. “The saga continues from junior high.”
“How fun!” Jessica replied in mock excitement.
They passed by the squad when Stephanie gave them the middle finger and a cynical smile. One of them—Jessica couldn’t tell which one—bellowed, “You two better watch your backs!” There was an uproar of laughter amongst the squad.
Morgan let out a dramatic sigh. “They need help.”
Jessica agreed. They did need help. Somewhere along the way, their emotional growth had been stunted. And Jessica knew all too well how malicious Stephanie could be. If Jessica’s instincts were accurate, a whole year’s worth of preserved animosity was about to be unleashed upon them.



His senior year. Finally. Gerard Vincent stood with his back facing his locker as he watched the crowded hallways. Nine more months before he left this place for good. He could hardly wait to escape the rathole. He had been watching the swarm of teenagers for about ten minutes when a brunette caught his attention. She was pretty…with long curly hair and a graceful way about her. He watched her until she got to her locker just a few yards down the hall. NHS was not a big school, with a total pupil population of around three hundred. He wondered if she was a freshman because he hadn’t seen her before. He would remember her. His buddy, Alec, standing next to him, broke into his concentration.
“Dude, who are you zoned in on down there?” Alec craned his neck to see what had Gerard’s rapt attention.
“The tall brunette.” Gerard replied, “The one in the blue shirt.”
Alec followed his gaze. “Man…she’s a Claire girl. There’s four of them—she’s the youngest girl—and their parents keep a tight rein on them, man. She also has a younger brother. She’s Emily’s little sister who graduated last year.”
Gerard looked at his friend with furrowed brows. “How do you know so much about her?”
“I dated Anna…Emily’s best friend.”
“You’ve dated everyone.”
“Touché.” Alec snorted.
Gerard ignored his friend’s annoying mannerisms as he grabbed a notebook from his locker. He started down the hall and found himself just a few feet behind the Claire girl. “What’s her first name?” he asked Alec, walking alongside him to their first-hour class.
“Jessica. This isn’t her first year; she’s a sophomore.”
“No way. I would remember her from last year.” Gerard knew that for sure.
“I’m tellin’ ya. She’s in her second year. She didn’t get a great label last year, either.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s been known as a real snob, a stuck-up…a bi--.”
“I get the picture. But that can’t be right.” Gerard knew all too well about being labeled, and whoever they were who did the labeling usually was either wrong or had wrong motives with their labeling system.
He had a few labels attached to his name. A bad boy. Macho guy. A rebel. Whatever. He didn’t care. His last name always got a lot of attention. There were several trophies in the display case with the name Vincent. Earned by his older brother and sister in track and field.
He would’ve had some of his own if he got along with the coach. By the time his siblings graduated, the only good coach known to NHS had retired, leaving big shoes to fill that never were.
The school faculty was notorious for having class pets, and he was never one of them. That’s okay. He’d survive his final year without trying too hard on his homework. He always managed to ace the tests, so if that was his ticket out of there…no worries.
“Why don’t you just ask her then,” Alec added with a shrug of his shoulder.
Gerard thought about that. “Maybe I will.” It would open up a line of conversation, at least. He never had a problem with coming out and asking questions no one else wanted to ask.



Jessica walked down the hall after second hour, feeling that someone was looking at her. She looked over to see a very good-looking guy—short dark hair, blue eyes, lean build…an athlete maybe, slightly taller than her (she guessed by two or three inches) with a fabulous smile —watching her. He was leaning against his locker, textbook in hand, hanging at his side. Jessica’s gaze locked with his, and her stomach flip-flopped.
Who is he, and where did he come from?
He wasn’t a freshman or a sophomore. She noticed Alec beside him and knew he was a senior—he had dated Emily’s best friend. Who didn’t Alec date? A couple of popular cheerleaders were on the other side of the guy who glared into her soul. He didn’t seem to notice anyone but Jessica, as if it were just the two of them in the hallway that buzzed with activity.
Her cheeks warmed, and she picked up her pace. She released a slow breath as she reached her locker. What was that about? It felt like some out-of-this-world charge crossed between them.
Morgan reached her locker as Jessica unloaded her textbooks. “So far, we’ve survived.” She glanced over at Jessica while opening her locker. “You okay? You seem a little…uh… flushed.”
Jessica closed her locker door, feeling a bit…wobbly. “There was this guy…he was standing next to Alec, and I…well, I don’t know who he is, but he looked at me.”
Morgan gave her a puzzled expression as she shut her locker.
“I mean…he looked at me…he was looking at me, ya know…?”
“Okay. That’s nothing too strange…is it?” Morgan shrugged, “I mean, you’re a pretty girl.”
“Yeah…I guess not.” No, it was strange….and…. unnerving. Her heart was all a flutter. “And thanks for the compliment. You’re pretty, too.”
Morgan smiled. “People say we look alike.”
The duo shared the same long, curly—and prone to frizz—hair. Jessica’s was a slightly lighter brownish than Morgan’s; each summer the sun gave her highlights that stayed with her for much of the year. They shared nearly the same color eyes. Morgan’s were a dark blue, whereas Jessica’s were a lighter shade of blue-green. Jessica’s growth spurt in junior high made her three inches taller than Morgan, at five-foot-seven.
“I’ll see ya after this hour—meet you in the lunch line.” Morgan tossed over her shoulder as she opened the door to her third-hour class.
“Watch out for unscrupulous humans,” Jessica asserted before she continued down the hall to Music Appreciation class. Morgan snickered and told her to do the same.
Jessica opened the classroom door, and Erin grabbed her attention from the middle of the room. She was motioning her over with a wave while patting the empty folding chair next to her. Erin was a band player, and for some reason, band players had some exemption from the clique craziness. Or maybe band was its own clique. Jessica didn’t know; she was still learning the bi-rules of this school. Jessica claimed the reserved seat.
“Hi!” Erin exclaimed, a smile lighting up her face. “I’m so glad you’re in this class with me!” She tucked her dark-brown bobbed hair behind her ear.
“Hi!” Jessica returned, “Thanks for saving me a seat.” She deposited her bag on the floor and glanced down the row of chairs. And saw him. The guy who gave her the soul glare. Her pulse skyrocketed. “Hey…” she whispered, nudging Erin’s arm. “See that guy…uh…four seats down with the dark hair, black T-shirt? What’s his name?”
Erin peered down the row, making it way too obvious. “That’s Gerard Vincent,” she whispered. “What do you want to know about him?”
Jessica fidgeted in her chair. She had only wanted his name…right? But…. where did he come from? Was he—
“He has a bad boy reputation…” Erin continued, turning towards her with her head down as if they were sharing secrets. “He got his license taken away over a DWI.” Jessica’s eyes grew wide.
“Yeah…” Erin whispered. “He’s been known to party…he’s part of the in-crowd.” She gave a thoughtful look as if trying to drudge up more information about him. Jessica could see Gerard in her peripheral vision, and he was looking in her direction.
“Oh!” Erin snapped her fingers and whispered, “He used to date Stephanie. I know you two aren’t…. friends.” Then she lifted her shoulder. “Not that it matters who he dated. I like him…”
Jessica didn’t hear a word she was saying past, “He used to date Stephanie.”
Erin continued… “He doesn’t put up with a lot of the BS around here, and he sticks up for the ones who get picked on. And well…you can tell…he is so good-looking…”
“Hello all, and welcome to a new school year!” Mrs. Moore greeted, standing at her music podium.
Jessica was glad for the disruption from the information dump she was getting on Gerard Vincent. She had heard enough.
The teacher beamed at her students. “Today we are going to play a game…to have some fun on our first day back. It’s called Music Pictionary.” She filled her class in on the details of the game. Her enthusiasm was contagious, even though Jessica dreaded games that required drawing of any kind, especially on a chalkboard in front of everyone.
“How fun!” Erin exclaimed.
Jessica couldn’t help but smile. She liked Erin; she was a ball of excitable energy.
While Mrs. Moore was explaining who would go first, Erin gave Jessica’s arm a nudge. “This note…it’s for you,” she whispered, handing her a folded note. “It’s from Gerard!”
Jessica’s heart skipped a few beats as she looked down at the small piece of folded paper and opened it. “Are you really a bitch?” Jessica inhaled sharply, and she felt her cheeks flame.
Erin whispered, “What did he say?”
The first player approached the board and started to draw. Jessica discreetly showed her the note; Erin read it and gasped, a smile tipping one corner of her mouth. Jessica failed to see the humor in it, but two could play this game.
In her agitated state, she jotted down, “Are you really an asshole?” Because only an a-hole would: ask such a rude question, drink and drive, and date Stephanie! Without thinking twice, she passed the note down the row. She didn’t even feel guilty for using a word her parents would disapprove of.
Her gaze centered on the board where some musical instrument was being chalked to life, but she had no idea what it was. She was too perturbed to care.
“Oh, here’s the note back!” Erin passed the folded paper to her.
Jessica unfolded it and read, “Yes, I have one.”
Erin released a giggle, then covered her mouth with her fingers. Jessica clamped her mouth shut, trying her best not to smile.
“Trombone!” someone yelled out at the drawing that resembled nothing of the sort. The next player was up, and Erin was getting in on the guessing while Jessica crumpled up the piece of paper.
“So…like I was saying,” Erin spoke out the side of her mouth while another instrument was drawn, “He has good qualities—he shoved a guy when he was bullying Tommy over his stuttering. He isn’t like the others…the ones who are popular. He seems…genuine.” Erin squinted at the chalkboard. “Drums!” Erin shouted out right next to Jessica’s ear. “Oh, sorry! I have to go draw now…watch me and try to guess, okay?”
Jessica nodded but was in no mood to get pulled into the game. She thrust the crumpled-up piece of paper into the pocket of her jeans and watched as Erin started to draw her favorite instrument.
“Piano!” slipped out without her thinking.
Erin gave Jessica a high-five as she sat back down next to her. “Your turn!”
Yes, Jessica realized that and was not too happy about it. She drew out the paper with the name of the instrument she would have to draw. A tuba. Great! How do you draw a tuba?
She started drawing, paused, tried to think…then went back to drawing…looking back at the crowd with Gerard in it, trying not to look at his smirking face. Several more seconds passed, which felt like hours; finally, someone came to her rescue.
“Tuba!” was shouted out from behind her.
Jessica turned to see who her hero was. And there was Gerard, with a cocky smile, walking towards her. Their shoulders brushed in passing. His smile widened. She smiled back, but she didn’t mean to! And she couldn’t help but notice his scent… woodsy …masculine. Nice. Not nice! Jessica rebuked herself, making haste to her seat. Her pulse was thrumming like an all-pervading drum.
“He has a cute butt, too—that’s another plus.”
Jessica glanced over at Erin as she stared at Gerard’s backside. Much to Jessica’s dismay, she glanced there, too, but then looked towards the door. She needed an escape. Right away. She did not want to see his butt, thick dark hair, or deep blue eyes. Or his muscled bicep as it flexed in his creation of a guitar on the chalkboard. Jessica was gawking again when he turned around, catching her stare. He gave a lopsided grin. Butterflies zoomed around in her stomach.
“He likes you!” Erin said.
She gave Erin an incredulous expression. “No.”
“Yes…” Erin gave an assured nod, “…he does. I bet you two will be talking by the end of this month.”
Jessica shook her head. “No way.” She would not, could not associate with anyone who dated her nemesis. She did not need any more trouble with Stephanie. And…she could not converse with someone who thought drinking and driving was acceptable. Her parents had very strongly preached against drinking and driving. And…as if she needed another reason…his note was rude.
So, whatever that zap of a feeling was passing between them…that would be the end of that. Period. End of discussion.
Jessica would walk a wide circle around Gerard Vincent.
The bad boy.

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