First Impressions

Chapter I: Making Enemies

It all started with detention. Or, rather, a slough.

It was one cursed September morning during my usual walk to school that I found myself lying on my stomach in a swamp of mud and leaves, with my hair in my mouth, my glasses smudged, and my pride officially diminished to the size of a pin needle.

This was no ordinary morning, for it had all started out wrong—with my alarm clock's not going off, with my parents' being out of town, and with my best friend Britt Owens' getting an early ride to school without me.

Somehow in my haste to run to school, I'd managed to trip over absolutely nothing and face plant in this delightful slough. I didn't have to look down to know that my outfit was utterly soiled. I also didn't have to look to know that by now I was twenty minutes late to school—and counting.

This was my worst nightmare—or a combination of all my worst nightmares—coming true all at once. Ruined outfit—check. No friend here for emotional support—check. Late to school—check. Late to Mr. Baldwin's math class—check. An automatic trip to detention—check.

Despair growing, I yanked my head from the slimy mud and propped myself up. Taking in a panicky breath, I opened my eyes and looked about. An elderly woman stood about sixteen paces off with her dog, just staring at me peculiarly. As if I were some sort of spectacle.

Too embarrassed to even try to explain anything to this stranger, I turned my head away and began picking myself up. Rising from the slough, I reached down and wiped off the superficial muck as best I could. I knew the undercoat was not going anywhere without proper cleaning supplies, but there was simply no time for that.

Fighting back those tears that had already begun brimming, I grit my teeth and set my feet back on the sidewalk. Mud or no mud, I was not going to let myself be more than half an hour late.

I started off at a fast walk just to regain my balance, but before long, I was sprinting again. The sprinting had landed me in the slough, but there was no other choice here. I could either be late or later.

With my lungs wheezing for oxygen and my muscles screaming in protest, I was surprised I even made it all the way to the school property without wiping out. But there was no joy in this accomplishment.

Sending fleeting glances toward my watch all the while, I climbed the stairs to the main door of Central Meadow High and shoved the door open, leaving a dirty smudge on the door handle. I felt my stomach transfer to my throat as I watched the minute hand of my wristwatch tick dangerously toward the sixth digit. Screw this!

It was all such a blur; I barely even had time to think as I stumbled down the nearly vacant hallways to Mr. Baldwin's dreaded math class. The tears had already spilled over by the time I pushed his classroom door open in shame.

And then I was forced to meet the surprised and equally amused eyes of the rest of the class. They were living for this—the nerd, being late to class and looking like a swamp monster. And then there was my real fear—Mr. Edgar Baldwin, who just so happened to be the strictest high school teacher in all of Meadowfield, Michigan. I couldn't even look at him. I was so incredibly late. I couldn't believe it. My life was over, I knew.

"Maine Eilerts?" his voice pierced the heavy silence.

"Yes, sir?" I asked tentatively, still not daring to lift my gaze. My palms were growing sweaty, so I clasped my hands together behind my back.

Mr. Baldwin didn't wait another moment before ordering, "Detention—now."

My bottom lip quivered. Had I really even dared to hope that I'd avoid this? Everyone knew that one tardy with Mr. Baldwin was a high enough crime to commit one to detention. My cheeks flushing with misery, I took the detention slip out of his hand and slowly turned to leave the room. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was going to detention. Detention!