Judgmental Morons

1. Just My Luck

The shrill alarm filled my room, signaling the first official day of junior year.

More like the first official day of yet another crappy year of crappy high school.

After rolling around the bed for fifteen minutes, I finally managed to drag myself to the bathroom. Twenty more minutes of hauling myself around, and I was dressed and ready for school.

Well, okay, I was wearing a grey shirt that said “Bite Me” in large black letters with a brand new pair of black jeans. Not exactly the message you want to send out at the beginning of the school year, but it helped express the thoughts that run around my head on the first day of school…and the days that follow up to summer vacation. It’s not like I get bad grades or have problems with teachers like most kids. In fact, the teachers love me and think I can do no wrong. My problem with school is the students. The annoying cliques, bullies, show-offs, and attention seekers really get on my nerve. My three best friends—Jenna, Terri, and Michelle--- are the people who get me through each day.

I grabbed a thin black sweater on my way out. Even though it was September, the air was starting to get chilly. I decided I would leave the buttons unfastened, though. I didn’t want to hide my favorite part of the outfit.

“Wow, someone seems to be in the school spirit,” Uncle Tom greeted me while flipping pancakes onto my plate.

“Yeah well…figured this would help me make lots of new friends.” I replied sardonically before shoveling the pancakes into my mouth. 

“You know, high school isn’t half as bad as you make it out to be,” Uncle Tom said, taking a seat opposite me, “I’m sure you’ll meet at least one new person today.”

“Right,” I nodded, “Probably a werewolf. Or a vampire. Someone who likes biting, in general. Who knows, my life might turn into Twilight…only then, I’d shoot myself.”

“You’re a hopeless case, Meg,” Uncle Tom chuckled, ”Stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Will do,” I said, rising from my chair, ponytail swinging wildly behind me. “Damn, I wish I could cut this stuff off.”

“Okay, One: No cursing in the house unless you’re dying, and Two: No way are you cutting your hair off. Your mother would kill me if I let you do that.”

I forced on a grin before stepping out of the house, even though a little voice in my head was saying, “How come she’s not around to tell me that?”

*

*

*

Looking around the dreary hallways for fifteen minutes, I realized none of my friends had arrived yet. I was about to curse them for being late, but a glance toward my watch told me I was early.

Damn.

Grabbing my things for Calculus (yes, the first class on the first day of junior year was Calculus. Could life be any worse?), I trudged towards the classroom, swung the door open, strode in, and immediately felt a crashing blow to my knee.