chapter 5

Chapter 5: Secrets and Struggles

The smell of rain lingered in the air as Harper stepped into her first class of the day, her damp sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. She ducked her head, hoping no one would notice her frayed hoodie or the dark circles under her eyes.

“Harper, you’re late,” Mr. Aldridge said, looking up from his desk.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, slipping into her seat. Her soaked hair clung to her neck, but she didn’t bother fixing it.

The lecture began, but Harper’s mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t stop thinking about the email from Mr. Callahan. A paid internship. He’d mentioned details—something about 20 hours a week with flexible scheduling—but the thought of it felt surreal. Could this really be her break?

“Harper,” Mr. Aldridge’s voice snapped her back to the present. He stood at the front of the room, holding a stack of graded tests. “Your last exam was... underwhelming.”

The class turned to look at her, and Harper’s stomach tightened.

“I know you’re capable of better work,” he continued, handing her the paper. A bold 74% was scrawled across the top in red ink. “If you need extra help, you should reach out. And,” he hesitated, lowering his voice slightly, “I’d like to speak with your parents about how we can support you.”

Her chest tightened. “My parents... they’re busy,” she said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Harper, this isn’t something you should handle alone,” he pressed.

She forced a tight smile. “I appreciate it, but I’ve got it under control.”

He looked unconvinced but didn’t push further. Harper gripped the test, her knuckles whitening.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. In every class, her teachers gave her similar looks of concern, commenting on her slipping grades and urging her to seek help. She dodged their questions, weaving vague answers about her parents working late or being out of town.

The truth stayed locked away, hidden behind a practiced smile and quick deflections. No one could know she was homeless. If they did, everything could unravel—her internship, her schoolwork, the fragile balance she fought to maintain.

At the diner that evening, Harper moved through the motions of her shift, her mind weighed down by the day’s events. Her manager barked orders, customers grumbled about the service, and her tips were meager once again.

When she finally slipped into her car, the familiar smell of rain-dampened fabric greeted her. She let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she pulled out her notebook.

She had a meeting with Mr. Callahan tomorrow, and she needed to prepare. The internship might be her only way out of this endless cycle, her only chance to build a future.

Her phone buzzed. It was another email from Mr. Callahan:

"Looking forward to discussing the internship details tomorrow. We’re excited to see how you’ll continue contributing to the team."

Harper stared at the words, a small flicker of hope warming her chest. For all the hardships, for all the nights spent shivering in her car, she wasn’t ready to give up.

She opened her notebook and began jotting down notes for the meeting. The rain pattered softly against the car windows, the sound blending with the rustle of her pen on paper.

Harper was tired, hungry, and worn thin, but she had one thing no one could take from her—determination. And as long as she had that, she would keep moving forward.