Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Mom has always stayed at home with us, but recently started working part time at Dad's hardware store. She says she's excited to get out of the house, but really, I think she just needs to get her mind off the fact that both her kids are growing up. I’m a senior who’ll be gone next year; Gracie is starting her freshman year and will be gone in four. Our family is changing.
When I step into the kitchen I’m met with Gracie’s scared expression as she studies a sheet of paper.
Our schedules!
Mom waives my piece of mail in front of her as I squeal in delight. I grab it, quickly tearing the perforated sides and tops to reveal the last high school schedule I'll ever get.
Lucinda P. Cunningham ---- Grade 12/Senior
Period Class Teacher Room
1 Math F. Stalling 010
2 PhEd A. Casssidy Main Gym
3 English D. Harrington 125
4 Spanish K. Pearl 226
5 Soc St M. Oliver 104
6. Lunch Staff Cafe
7. Lab/SH* J. Harrington 112/232
8. Chem J. Harrington 112
9. Pub. Sp. G. Martin 201
*Alternating days. Study hall is overseen by staff.
There are a couple of teaches I don’t recognize, but the first thing I notice are the two Harrington’s. There’s a husband and wife who teach biology and they are both awful. I had the wife last year and almost failed, so I’m praying this isn’t a similar situation.
When I look up, my smiling face meets Gracie’s nervous one, and Mom nudges me to say something positive.
“Let me see,” I take my smile down a notch as she hands me her schedule.
I’ve had two of her teachers, and tell her not to worry. “I’ll ask Chloe and Ashley about the rest. Most of them sound familiar.”
I hand the paper back to her, feeling a little bad, because she obviously wants to talk, but I’m already skipping back to my room, hoping all my friends have checked their mail too.
There are over 20 IM’s waiting for me when I return. I remove my away message and start typing away, comparing schedules with everyone I know.
It turns out no one knows much about the Harrington’s, which is why I was so shocked on the first day of school when I walked into chemistry.
I didn't expect him to be so… young.
FIRST DAY
One of the best things about being a senior is you get your very own parking spot. One of the worst things, for me at least, is that I also have to drive Gracie to school. That was one of the stipulations Mom and Dad gave when buying me my beat up silver convertible: Gracie has to come too.
Translation: You are now basically her slave and have to drive her everywhere.
I point her in the direction of her first period class before heading to mine, which is math. Can I just say that no one should be required to do math at 7:30 in the morning? I'll save my opinion on outlawing the subject in general, but seriously, there should be a rule that requires math not be taught until after one fully wakes up.
Alas, here I am, in the basement of MTHS, along with the likes of the janitor's closet and weight room, in a makeshift classroom with cold, bland cinder block walls and a small dry erase board, thanks to the school overflowing with too many kids.
I look around the room at all the faces. There are a few classmates I’m friendly with, but not friends with. This is a good thing, as I need to pay as much attention as possible. The first person that stands out is my sophomore year crush. The only thing notable about him is that I haven't had a crush since. He makes a pot joke with the guy behind him and I'm reminded why the attraction there ended quickly, and why no one has interested me since. Every guy my age is just so immature. Not to say that I’m the most mature person either, but most of these guys are just ridiculously juvenile. Call me a goodie two shoes who has never even kissed a guy, and you'd be right on the second half of that statement. Although I may come off as that terrible phrase no girl ever wants to hear to some, deep down, I just want to fit in like everyone else. Unfortunately, none of my past crushes have yet to turn into anything more than that, and that’s mostly my fault. I suppose I’m just too shy.
The bell rings and everyone takes a seat before being called up one by one to receive a textbook. The minute Mrs. Stalling hands me the book I feel I’m in way over my head. I’m completely intimidated by the sheer size of the thing.
I take my seat and brace myself as I skim through the first few pages, wondering what would happen if I throw it out the window. That would really start senior year off with a bang: The Girl Who Threw Her Math Book Out The Window. Although, with my luck, I won’t throw it hard enough and it won’t even make it halfway to the pane. Then I’ll be known as The Girl Who Couldn’t Even Throw Her Math Book Out The Window.