Diary of a Done Girl

Chapter 2: I Hate Myself

"As you place three droplets sodium chloride into the beaker, you will notice the solution begin to bubble and fizz ," Mrs. Janis practically groaned as she squeezed a small eyedropper until clear drops of sodium chloride plopped into the other liquid in the glass beaker. 

Chemistry: my favorite subject on earth. If you could not sense the sarcasm within that statement, let me inform you that that was pure derision and that I hate Chemistry with whatever is left of my cold, black heart. I was riding an 81% in the first quarter of the first semester, and I was sure my grade would fall faster than I did for Oliver Sykes the moment I heard him sing. 

And no, Oliver Sykes is not a boy in my class, he is the lead singer of my favorite band. 

Sheez, get with the program, people. 

Mrs. Janis kept continuously blabbing away about the lab we were about to start: how it's important, what the procedure consists of, and the other ninety thousand rules and precautions to take while performing this oh-so-dangerous experiment. 

I tapped my dirty finger nails on my desk anxiously and impatiently, waiting for Mrs. Janis to give us our very longed for assigned groups. Group work has never been something I get excited for. Ever.  Being the socially anxious, shy girl I am who is not able to tolerate any other form of humankind other than myself (not really), I fucking despise working with other kids. Whether it be the anxiety that comes with conversing with other humans or the agitation that follows people making a noise, such as breathing, I simply cannot bare even the thought being in the presence of another person. Call me antisocial, if you will. 

My pleasant thoughts were rudely interrupted by my teacher's lovely, hoarse, loud voice. She was directly in front of me, her thick torso blocking my plain view and her plump fingers poking at my shoulder. 

"Ms. Johnson," she started sarcastically. "Do you think it is even remotely acceptable to be taking a nap in my classroom?" 

I hadn't even realized that I was falling asleep, or that I indeed had my head resting in my arms. Nervously, I slowly picked my head up and met her sharp, authoritative gaze. 

"Do you?" she questioned again, this time harsher and louder. Her eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets.

"N-no," I whispered quietly.

As you can probably already tell, getting in trouble was definitely not one of my strong suits. 

"Did you even hear who you will be working with, Ms. Johnson?" 

This specific encounter wouldn't have been so dreadful is she hadn't called me out in front of the entire class, who were, not surprisingly, perked up and ready to catch what was about to go down. Which was absolutely nothing besides my face turning beat red and my whole body becoming completely paralyzed due to embarrassment. 

"No," I stated apprehensively, titling my head forward so that my blinding hair covered some of my face. 

Mrs. Janis shifted her weight from her left leg to her right, rolling her small, brown eyes at me. Her tall, wide structure sighed heavily, causing some of the buttons on her dark blue, tight button-down shirt to desperately hold on to hole they were placed in. Her black and white peppered floated around her like a halo as she shook her ball-like head. I cowered under her annoyed stare, feeling the pores all over my body leak with anxious sweat, as my insides literally were crying. 

"You are working with Group Five, Ms. Johnson," she barked fiercely and stomped away. 

As I was unwillingly reversing my cowardly recoil, Group Five's population beamed at me impatiently, waiting for me to begin my share in today's assignment. I walked over to the black lab table and sat down quickly, trying my best to keep the attention off of myself.  Soon enough, after a few minutes of awkward silence and restless waiting of someone to take a stand and get the experiment moving, Ashley Rednow started talking and moving lab equipment.