Getting to class on time was a habit I had picked up in middle school.
All of the teachers around here are dying to give out after school detention slips for the tiniest things, like being late to class or "stealing" (accidentally leaving with) their pencils. I did that once on accident, but no one believed me. The teachers at North Lake High School are eager to ruin our after school lives, so you have to make an effort to be on time and remember to return shitty fifty cent pencils.
However, you never want to get to class early around here either, because then the teachers want to talk to you extensively about how great their lives are. Maybe no one else has this problem, but I can't relate to anything that they say.
For instance, my one teacher insists on bragging about how well her daughter is doing out in California. I politely asked what she's doing out there, and she informed that her daughter is a nanny and was almost on Wipe Out.
Honestly curious I asked, "Isn't a nanny just a glorified babysitter?"
Now I have to sit in the front of her classroom, because apparently a nanny is a respected profession never to be confused with a babysitter.
Anyway, I figured out the importance of timing a long time ago. That's how I ended up outside of Ms. Henderson's classroom right now, exactly one minute early. I walk in and glance around. Almost everyone is already here, except for a few.
I walk over to the far side of the classroom where I usually sit, because it's beside the window and Brianna. Brianna doesn't even say anything to me as I sit down, due to her being deep in conversation with her new boyfriend, Edgar.
I would never tell Brianna this, but I have no idea what she sees in Edgar. I watch as he grins at her, revealing the gap between his teeth. He has this black, greasy hair that he always slicks back with this weird ass gel he claims is from Europe.
He's actually pretty disgusting, and his teeth are yellowing from smoking a pack a day since middle school. I'm pretty sure that Bri knows he has a drinking problem, but she just glazes over the fact that he's kind of shady.
I mean, I'm happy for her. Bri is just a really pretty, sweet girl. She has those kind of cute, blonde ringlets that dangle just above her shoulders. You know, the kind you usually see on babies.
Bri's constantly trying to hide the fact that her natural features make her look really young by wearing lots of makeup, but I never say anything about that.
I tap on her shoulder, but she doesn't even flinch. "Bri?" I tap harder on her shoulder and she swings around.
"What?" She swings around towards me. I hold my hands up in a "woah there" kind of motion.
"It's been two minutes since the bell rang and Ms. Henderson still isn't here," I tell her. Bri looks around, snapping out of her Edgar daze.
Jared Bower is sitting in the corner flinging wads of paper at the girl in front of him, and she turns around and snaps at him. "That's a waste of paper, asshole."
This is also why I hate being early: kids are fucking animals.
"She'll be here," Bri says, turning back around to Edgar.
Finally, Ms. Henderson does walk in and three things are blindingly apparent.
First, she is still as much of a free-spirited hippie as she was last week. Her long blonde hair falls way past her waist in a really messy french braid, and her crystal blue eyes are covered in a freaky haze of tranquility.
Secondly, she and her current boyfriend are still together. She'a one of those people where you can read them like a book. When they're happy they're humming under their breath and practically floating, but when they're pissed off even their presence screams fuck off.
