The (Not so amazing) adventures of Max

Second Entry: Last Days of Summer Freedom

Thursday, August 3rd

Five days left. Five days until I have to wake up early, remember my locker combination, and pretend to care about math. I swear, whoever decided high school should start before noon is probably the same person who invented pop quizzes.

Today was supposed to be a chill day, just me, my skateboard, and the sweet freedom of the neighborhood. Of course, Sam had other plans. He followed me to the park, dragging his beat-up scooter behind him. I tried to lose him by doing a few fast laps around the skate ramp, but he was determined. I'll give him credit—he's persistent. Annoying, but persistent.

Leo came by, and we ended up playing a game of "see who can do the dumbest trick without breaking something." Alex joined us later, and in true fashion, he immediately attempted a flip, missed, and landed in a pile of grass. Ben couldn't stop laughing, which only made Alex get up and announce, "Round two!" Spoiler: round two ended with Leo catching it all on camera, and Alex dramatically claiming he'd never skate again. He says that every week.

While we were messing around, we started talking about Mr. Dreadmore. Leo, who's actually good at listening to gossip (don't ask me how), said he heard Mr. Dreadmore once made a kid write a 10-page essay for forgetting their pencil. Ben joked that if that's true, we should all just show up on day one with dictionaries strapped to our backs to be prepared. I don't know if that's a joke or actually good advice.

By the time we headed home, the sun was already dipping below the trees, and Mom was calling out from the porch, telling me it was time to come inside. Sam raced ahead, nearly wiping out on his scooter, and I could hear Mom's exasperated "Sam, slow down!" echoing down the street. Sometimes I wonder if parents realize their "slow down" is just fuel for us to speed up.

So, that's it for today. Five days left, and tomorrow we're apparently helping Dad clean out the garage. If that doesn't sound like the most thrilling way to spend the last bit of summer, I don't know what does.

Note to self: hide from Sam tomorrow morning.