Your Second Half

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This week has to be the most stressful week of all junior year…and it’s only Wednesday! School is just too much! All these classes I have to attend and books I have to carry…it’s stressful.

I guess it’s easier for kids at our school compared to other schools because this school specifies in performing arts. From acting to singing and even dancing! And so much more.

Heading to third period English has to be the most hectic. I’m going one way while everyone goes another…ugh! Why is there English class, you ask? Just because we’re gifted doesn’t mean we have to be stupid and pass up core classes. There’s still History, English and Math classes, there just not that important… to me.

“Hey Lori!” Cory calls as he passes me in the hallway. I wave. Gosh, he’s annoying. He’s been trying to get with me since freshmen year and HE WON’T QUIT! I ‘politely’ turn him down every time he asks by giving some lame excuse. He’s just not catching the signs.

I was so caught up in thought that I hadn’t notice someone heading right towards me…full sprint. Before I could dodge them they knock right into me and I land flat on my bum. “S-sorry, Lori” they say as I try and help me with my things. I look to see who it is and see an unfamiliar face, how do they know my name? “It’s alright. Um…how do you know my name?” He lightly laughs, “Figuring I’ve been in your theatre class the past three years, it’d be weird if I didn’t.”

Is he calling me weird? Because I definitely don’t know his name. “You make me feel dumb” I giggle, “I’m sorry but I don’t know yours.” “Most people don’t” he sadly smiles. Poor guy. “I’m Marcel.” “Marcel…I like that. Is it Italian?” I ask as we finish picking up our belongings and stand up. I see a light tint creep onto his cheeks, “I-I guess so.” “Well, nice to meet you Marcel, I’m Lori” I giggle, extending my arm for him to shake my hand. “H-hi, Lori” he shakes my hand.

Just then, the bell rings and I realize I’m late for class! “Oh, I’m late! Um, I guess I’ll see you in Theatre?” I ramble as I slip my bag back on my shoulder. “Sure” he smiles. I race down the hall and slip through the door of English class right before Mr. Jonny can shut it. “You’re late, Anderson!”  “Technically…no, the door hasn’t closed yet!” “You’re a smart cookie.” I smile and take my seat.

A smart cookie indeed.

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