And it's finally arrived; the first day of a new school year, Junior year to be exact.
I couldn't wait to meet the teachers. It sounds extremely nerdy but if you're close to the teachers, then they'll like you. Being a teacher's pet is good for your grade because you can do no wrong, to the teacher's at least. I packed up my book bag, preparing for my departure to drive to school for the first time by myself.
Before leaving the house, I double checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror; dark skinny jeans that hugged my hips and curves, a loose white tank top, and my make up was applied with a layer of foundation to cover irreversible acne, a fine line of black eyeliner, and voluminous mascara.
If my parents were here, needless to say that they would've had me scrub my face off and cover up my bare arms. But they weren't here and I would only see them on rare occasions such as getting breaks from them working at the hospital in down town.
I made sure to grab my backpack on my way out of the bathroom, shutting off the lights and fans to conserve electricity. I threw my backpack into the passenger seat of my old truck and shoved the keys into the ignition to start it up. The truck finally roared to life after the third time of turning the keys over, which I was thankful that it had been this easy this morning unlike other mornings during summer break.
It took a twenty-minute drive to pull up to the student parking lot and shut off the engine of the truck. I gathered my backpack, slinging one strap onto my right shoulder, and locked my truck on my way to the school's main building to receive this year's schedule.
I pulled open one of the glass double doors, holding it for a couple of students I had avoided for the past couple of years, then walked in myself.
"Miss. Finlay, great to see you here again. What can I do for you, hun?" One of my former freshman year teachers had looked up from the computer.
I smiled sweetly, "You too, Mrs. Brimhall. I need another print-out of my schedule, it seems I had misplaced my original copy over summer."
Wrinkles gathered around her eyes as she spoke, "Of course, anything for my favorite student."
Kindness was all it took for teachers to like you, that and paying attention. I was a natural in social skills and intelligence, which helped me a lot through the past couple years of high school. I was a likable person, it's conceited but true because I've been told it so many times.
"Thank you, have a nice day!" I took out the piece of paper in the old lady's hands and shouted as I left the office building.
"First hour, okay," I spoke aloud, "algebra two." I sighed desperately for two reasons: one was that math is my least favored subject in school and two, I failed it last year, thus having to take the class again. I shrugged my right shoulder, bringing my backpack up from trying to slide off, and headed towards the math department.
I got to the correct classroom a couple of seconds before the final bell rang just to walk into the classroom assembling into the seating chart posted on the smartboard. I searched for my name on the enlarged screen, eyes landing on the name of the person I've been avoiding for half my high school career because I've been told things about him, and next to his name was mine.
so this kind of sucks, but I had written a chapter that I was proud of and saved it to publish but it had been deleted, which explains my three-days-late notice. hope you liked this, lmao who am i kidding? I don't even like it, oh well