Life According to Wyatt Smithers

Summer: Part 1

Summerschool was different. Sure it was located at Catalina High, sure some of my teachers sophmore year were teaching, and sure enough familiar faces were all around me but my first summer school experience was a transformation. Our teacher, Mr. Harriet, was Ms. Harriet's father who told us that he was the reason his daughter started teaching.

He was in his early fifties with a light and dark grey mix for hair and glasses clear enough you wouldn't tell he was wearing them. Economics was the class I chose to take to get a half credit ahead. Leigh-Anne did the same thing but she decided to take Health, the very class I already passed sophmore year. I had advised Leigh-Anne that she take Health when I did, for a second semester class to get the credit ahead of time but she went with band. A week later her phone went missing. That was the price I thought she had paid.

Economics was fairly interesting at first. Mr. Harriet told the class stories about his personal life that had small ties with Economics. He had a story for each chapter. "Quick story, quick story, quick story." They were never quick. There came no joy in summer school aside from talking to Ms. Harriet about the latest episodes of Game of Thrones. Kiana and Leigh-Anne were among the students taking summer school as well as others like Carlos Perez, Ronnie, and Stanley Jones.

Leigh-Anne and Kiana stopped sitting with me at lunch. I assumed it was because they favored waiting in line for 15 minutes to get a disgusting lunch and converse in the hell that was the cafeteria. I on the other hand chose to bring my own lunch. Keeping away from the cafeteria was what I had to do for I hated it. The crowds of people, my watering eyes as I was in there, and some of the people I was uncomfortable being around. As an alteranative I sat independently without company, reading Game of Thrones, and eating exquisite cheez-itz dipped in hummus.

I am a person who believed that if someone wanted to talk to me then they would seek me out. No one at summer school did. Day after day the same things happened but my anger and hatred grew. The second to last of hell was torture. Mr. Harriet took the class to N106 to log on to the computers and play Financial Football. I kept getting a tie with my opppsing team. Daniel Windfield was having computer trouble. As a result he sat at the computer station to my right. His black hair beaming. He was a junior going on a senior. I had never spoken to him before except one time on the first registration day of school he asked if I wanted to join football. I said no.

"Have you won yet?" he asked. "No," I replied. There were a few moments where he continuously tried to strike conversation with me and asked for me to log in to the computer he was using because he didn't have a log in. I agreed but I was not only upset with where I was but I was also nervous. Sitting next to people who were kind, attractive, or who I wanted to get to know better made me sweat. When Daniel left he thanked me for logging in for him. Your welcome was my response.

I felt horrible, as if I was rude beyond measure. I felt worse than Catelyn Stark did when she prayed Jon Snow got the pox and he did. The day ended soon enough. I walked with Leigh-Anne afterschool to the bus bay where my mother was to pick us up. Leigh-Anne spoke. "You know you seem really angry latley." No I thought with sarcasm. "What makes you say that?" I pondered. She was quick to answer. "Well you have been giving one word answers lately." It made me think back to earlier that day when my construction teacher saw me outsided alone and asked me how I was. "Good," I had said. I lied. Back in the present I told Leigh-Anne "Well I'm at school, I'm not happy." "But you were just exstatic the first day. I've never seen you hating school." " Well I do, I hate this school". There was a pause. "Well, maybe you should move schools." I looked at her, uppalled. She did not just tell me that. Jesus, Lord, help her. "No," I said. My mother arrived then and we drove away from hell.