Real Vs. Make Believe, chapter 1
The principal led me down the hallways of the high school that was unfamiliar to me. At least I'm only going to be here for a year, I tried to think optimistically. Yet, the other part of me was thinking, A whole year in this place...
"Room 205. This is your math class," The principal said. I studied the man's face. He looked like one of those middle-aged men who was only a principal because it was the only job he could get from coming out of a community college. His face was wrinkled with lines of worry and aggravation from the many kids that had caused trouble for him. He looked at me, too, probably trying to figure out if I was going to be one of those kids.
The principal walked me into a classroom full of seniors my age, sitting with their friends and ignoring whatever the teacher had to say. When I entered, though, they all stopped whatever they were doing and stared at me. The math teacher looked like she needed a break from her job right about now.
"Everyone, this is our new student, Ashley Kidman. We would appreciate it if you made her feel welcome here at Jamestown High." The principal introduced me. I felt about 25 pairs of eyes on me.
"Like Nicole Kidman?" A kid called out from the back. Glancing at him, I could tell he was a jock. Some other kids around him—presumably his football buddies—snickered. Some preppy girls did, too. I grimaced and stared at my vans in dismay.
The principal walked out of the room after the class had settled down. The teacher assigned me a seat at the front of the room. Most of the other kids were sitting with their friends, and I could easily identify them—jocks, preps, sluts, Goths, etc.
The forty-minute class droned on slowly. Some kids gave me looks (mostly dirty glares) and some kids acted as if I were invisible. I became so bored that I ended up sketching a rough picture of Billie Joe Armstrong on my paper.
"Ashley!" The teacher screeched at me. I sat up and shoved my papers back in my folder. "Uh... yeah?"
The teacher leaned down, close to my face. "I know you're knew here, but you've got to pay attention, just like everyone else." Even though I knew I shouldn't have, I opened my big mouth anyways. "You think these kids actually pay attention to your boring lectures?"
The class became silent. The teacher's hawk-like eyes stared me down. "I'm not going to punish you this time. Only because you're new. But if you mouth off one more time, your future here at Jamestown High will be a living hell. And I'll make sure of it."
I sighed and slid deeper into my seat.
This was going to be a long year.
"Room 205. This is your math class," The principal said. I studied the man's face. He looked like one of those middle-aged men who was only a principal because it was the only job he could get from coming out of a community college. His face was wrinkled with lines of worry and aggravation from the many kids that had caused trouble for him. He looked at me, too, probably trying to figure out if I was going to be one of those kids.
The principal walked me into a classroom full of seniors my age, sitting with their friends and ignoring whatever the teacher had to say. When I entered, though, they all stopped whatever they were doing and stared at me. The math teacher looked like she needed a break from her job right about now.
"Everyone, this is our new student, Ashley Kidman. We would appreciate it if you made her feel welcome here at Jamestown High." The principal introduced me. I felt about 25 pairs of eyes on me.
"Like Nicole Kidman?" A kid called out from the back. Glancing at him, I could tell he was a jock. Some other kids around him—presumably his football buddies—snickered. Some preppy girls did, too. I grimaced and stared at my vans in dismay.
The principal walked out of the room after the class had settled down. The teacher assigned me a seat at the front of the room. Most of the other kids were sitting with their friends, and I could easily identify them—jocks, preps, sluts, Goths, etc.
The forty-minute class droned on slowly. Some kids gave me looks (mostly dirty glares) and some kids acted as if I were invisible. I became so bored that I ended up sketching a rough picture of Billie Joe Armstrong on my paper.
"Ashley!" The teacher screeched at me. I sat up and shoved my papers back in my folder. "Uh... yeah?"
The teacher leaned down, close to my face. "I know you're knew here, but you've got to pay attention, just like everyone else." Even though I knew I shouldn't have, I opened my big mouth anyways. "You think these kids actually pay attention to your boring lectures?"
The class became silent. The teacher's hawk-like eyes stared me down. "I'm not going to punish you this time. Only because you're new. But if you mouth off one more time, your future here at Jamestown High will be a living hell. And I'll make sure of it."
I sighed and slid deeper into my seat.
This was going to be a long year.
Page 1/3 | Next
