---Stan's pov---
I grumble as I continue to sprint down the street.
Why is it that five minutes never really means five minutes?
I rush down the street knowing that if I run I'll make it with less than five minutes to class.
That is if it means five minutes means five.
I could, maybe, instead end up with even less time than that. I'm pretty sure that I would have five minutes at most to make it to first period.
I just need to get to school.
---Kyle's pov---
I push open the doors to the school and walk inside.
As I do, someone bumps me causing me to fall over and hit my back against a wall of lockers.
"Err," I groan as I rub the back of my head.
Why is it that everyday everyone in the hall either stand completely still in the middle of the hall or shoves everybody else around?
Can't someone just walk through the halls without being accidently assaulted or walking behind someone who takes three days to get to their next class?
Apparently so.
I sigh and start to get up, but then some asshole runs into me knocking me over again.
"SORRY, DUDE, RUNNING LATE!"