Straight As and Fall Sports

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"Well, the first sixteenth of our high school careers has come to an end," Jamie muses the first full weekend of November. We and our possessions sprawl across the Pittmans' spacious basement on a Friday night for a sleepover. We finished our final midterms that day. "Only fifteen more marking periods to go."

"Only you would figure that out," I say before sliding into a straddle stretch.

"How did we all do?" Jessie asks, tucking her legs up under her and putting a handful of microwave popcorn in her mouth.

"I got A's in everything," Jamie supplies from where she is on her back, a basketball clutched in her hands. She tosses the basketball a couple of feet into the air and catches it, only to pass it up again. "English was a bit shaky, but in the end, I pulled it off."
"I passed everything," Rebecca states, almost defensively. "And all with A's. Hanging out with you nerds has helped."

"Yay!" Jessie answers, giving Rebecca a little hug. "I got A's across the board. Cheyanne, how did you do?"

I stay in my straddle stretch and look up from the floor. "A's. I have to have an academic scholarship, or I'm not going to U of M."

"But you're a state fan..." Rebecca states, all but leaving off the question at the end of the statement.

"Yeah, but U of M has a better pre-med program."

"Traitor," Rebecca mutters. "Should we order pizza for dinner?"

"What's Cheyanne going to eat?" Jamie asks. She once told me that if she lived to be a hundred, Jamie would not forget the day I inadvertently ate some cheese and then shot myself with the Epipen in my left thigh before being rushed to the ER. Jamie confesses she still has bad dreams about the wheezing sound I made.
"Oh...good point. Um...we can go get Chinese."

"That'll work," I state, pulling myself off the floor. "But if y'all want pizza, order pizza. They make cheese-less pizza, or I can get a salad or wings or something."

"No," Rebecca states firmly. "We are all eating together. Let's go to Mason-they've got the best Chinese restaurant."

"Who's driving us?" Jamie asks.
"My dad. He promised he'd eat at another table if we wanted to go out."

"He can sit with us," Jessie, Jamie, and I interject, one on top of the other.

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