The Nerd and Me

Chapter One

Chapter One

High school. Sweet, sweet high school. The glorious four (maybe more for some) years we spend in our mid to late teens. Personally, I hate high school. Six minutes to get to and from classes, the worst lunch (can I even call it that?) I have ever had, and the wonderful people who you get behind that crawl to class. We also can't forget about the cliques. At Polk High School there is only three cliques. I refer to them as the losers, the middle class, and the populars.

The "losers" contain geeks, nerds, and those people that don't like to communicate with others..... Uh. What are they called again? Oh yeah. Anti social people. I'm not judging them by any means. It's just what everyone says.  The "middle class" contains the people that aren't completely unknown but yet they aren't completely known? Understand? Yeah, me neither. They're just there. The "populars" contain the jocks, rich girls, and the cheerleaders.

I am part of the popular crowd. I am a "top dog" here at Polk High. My daddy is one of the most respected business men in the area. That means he donates a ton of money to the school and I get special treatment. You all are probably thinking 'great this girl is a stuck up airhead.' I am very blessed with my family, however, I'm not as inconsiderate as you would think. Am I smart? No, not at all. I'm barely hanging on with passing grades my first semester senior year. Am I nice? I'm not the meanest person in school. Do I love shopping? Yes, a little too much. However, I'm not an evil hypocrite that walks the halls as people are pasted against the lockers trying to avoid me.

"Claire Reynolds, stop day dreaming! This is exactly why you are failing my class."

Mr. Clark. Oh Mr. Clark. I believe you're the reason I'm failing your class. If you would discuss something more interesting that the athlete's foot you discovered on your foot, I would actually show up and pay attention.

Mr. Clark is my history teacher. History is already my worst subject and now Mr. Clark bores me along to a peaceful slumber every school day at 8:00 A.M. First class of the day. Wonderful.

*****RING*****

I stand up grabbing my things ready to leave this dreadful class.

"Claire, I need a word with you."

Great. Terrific. Adding on to my already friggin fantastic day.

"Yes, Mr. Clark."

"Claire, just because your father donates a ton of money to this school does not mean I'm going to pass you. You are going to have to take your studies seriously. You are barely passing another one of your classes. I honestly don't care if you graduate or not but I would rather not have you in my class another semester," he finally stops his rant.

Trust me dude, you are not the only one. Another semester of you going on about your cheating wife and your athletes foot. Please spare me.

"Claire, I am signing you up for a tutor. Whether you use him for your other classes is up to you. However, you are most definitely using him for this one. By tomorrow I will have picked someone out for your tutor. I recommend you start immediately. He or she will have all the work you have not turned in so far. Please, just do it. You're excused," Mr. Clark says as I turn around and walk out the door.

Such a wonderful man. He continues to prove my reasons for why I have such a strong hatred toward school.

"Claire, Claire! Over here," my best friend Kristina said running to my side.

Don't call her Kristina to her face. She may actually attempt to kill you.

"Hey Kris."

"How was athletes foot's class?"