The Gradebook

Chapter 2: An Early Report Card

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do!”

“No. I. Don't.”

“Yes. You. Do.”

By the time we finished it sounded just like the musical, only the lyrics were a bit tweaked. People stared at us, and started applauding quietly, while wearing ridiculous smiles.

“Wow, quite the singing voice,” someone said, as they brushed past me.

“It’s nicer than yours will ever be!” I chimed with a small laugh.

“Maybe you should give that up too, since, you know, popularity matters more than life,” he spoke again, and I froze. It was him. Ethan.

“Don’t get me mad. You know I’m not some Malibu Barbie,” I defended myself. There was more to me than that, right? Definitely.

“You’re right. You’re the Malibu Barbie. Of this school, that is,” he sneered.

“I, uh... But, no! What are you... just be... Ugh! You... I can’t stand you!” I whined, running away to my last period before lunch, my saviour. I held my head down low, and stared fixedly at my shoes, feeling my shoulders tense up. Alec followed me.

“Leave me alone!” I shouted.

“Mia. Be real, who cares what he thinks? He’s just another guy at this school.”

“Just... go. I have some Spanish to catch up on,” I lied, directing my eyes as far as possible away from him. I heard him walk away slowly. I rubbed my eyes and forced my feet to move, and almost bumped into the door leading to my worst subject, Math. The teacher, Mrs. Pinette, was a crow. She had a raspy voice, and was possibly the strictest Math teacher I ever had. She also never bothered to give me the grades I deserved. The rule was that if she saw ‘Written by Mia Byers’, it was automatically worth a C+.

I lowered my head, and walked in, gripping the textbook for dear life.

I would never forgive Ethan. He was my best friend in elementary, and my frienemy in middle school, and now I don’t know what he was.

I honestly didn’t know.

***

“Wow, Jesse, you’re whipped!” I bubbled, giggling lightly.  Jesse was Alyce’s brother, and I’ve seen him a couple of times with her, always sharing a good laugh.

Jesse stood in front of me, Coca Cola dripping down his hair and sweater. Even after he bumped into a random person and spilled his soda all over himself, he was still gazing longingly at a bashful, short girl with side bangs.

 “Hey, guys,” Alec said to us, but looked at Alyce. She was sitting right beside me. I scooted over, and he beamed, taking a seat between us.