The picture to the right is Heather!
Today's the second day of seventh grade; however, I like to think of it as the first, since it's the first day that us students go to all our classes and learn. Yesterday was only an introduction to how everything works. It seems pointless to me though, since last year, they did the same exact thing and went over pretty much the same exact rules.
I walk down the hallway with my schedule and binder in hand. School has started, I have already put my backpack in my locker, and I am now squeezing through the crowd of students in the hall, trying to find my way to room 254.
I feel lost. Last year in sixth grade, all my classes were downstairs, so I have never been upstairs, where all my seventh grade classes are located.
I round a corner and spot room 253. I breathe out a sigh of relief. I'm close!
I pass a row of lockers to finally reach my destination. WOO HOO! Accomplishment. Now just five more classrooms to search for!
Note the sarcastic enthusiasm.
I enter room 254 to see a young woman is standing beside the whiteboard, her long brown hair swept over one shoulder. She's dressed professionally, so I'm assuming that that's my teacher.
"Good morning!" she chirps cheerfully.
"Good morning," I repeat less enthusiastically, forcing a smile. Honestly, I don't want to be here. I mean, it's math. Who likes math?!
And not to mention I had to wake up at 7 in the morning. I hate waking up early in the morning. Doesn't everyone though?
The classroom is currently pretty filled up, so I'm assuming I'm a bit late compared to others.
That's two times in two days, really gives a wonderful impression on teachers.
I choose an empty seat in the front beside two Asian girls. Too bad none of them are Heather.
I drop my binder onto the ground beneath my desk, and it makes a loud noise. Immediately, everyone turns their heads to stare at me.
"Sorry about that." I smile at the Asian girl sitting to the right of me.
Yeah, I don't get embarrassed under these kinds of circumstances. I'm pretty good with people, if I do say so myself.
Except when it comes to my study hall teacher.
She scares me.
The bell rings, and my math teacher takes her stand at the front of the room, first introducing herself as Mrs. Adamson then leaping right into the lesson.
I zone out faster than you can say "math sucks".
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After math class, I have choir as an elective, and then Texas History, and then science.
I enter the science classroom pretty early. The room is currently totally empty other than like five students and the teacher.
I take a seat at the back corner of the classroom, wanting to be as far away from the teacher's sight as possible. Some guy is sitting in the desk next to mine, his brown curly-haired-filled head laid down on his desk as he snores softly.
"Wow, sleeping in class!" I exclaim, but he doesn't seem to hear me. "What a good role model you ar-" I freeze as I realize something.
Brown hair.
Curly.
Oh, shoot.
Shoot, shoot, shoot.
I am not sitting next to him. I quickly gather up my binder and books and stand up.
