The (Not so amazing) adventures of Max

Sixteenth Entry: Surviving Dreadmore

Wednesday, August 30

So, here we are. It's been a few days since I last wrote, and things have not gotten any better. In fact, I think my rivalry with Mr. Dreadmore is already spiraling out of control.

It all started this morning in his class, of course. We had a pop quiz on the material I somehow still don't understand about ancient Greece. I'm pretty sure the quiz was just designed to make me suffer. I was doing okay at first—until I hit that one question that asked about Athena's relationship with Odysseus. What the heck am I supposed to say to that? All I could remember was something about her being "really into Odysseus" (which I'm sure was a total exaggeration).

So, I ended up scribbling something about Athena being "the goddess of wisdom and possibly a little obsessed with Odysseus," and I handed it in, hoping the gods of high school would have mercy on me. I could feel Dreadmore's eyes on me as I handed it over. He gave me the side-eye like he knew exactly what kind of masterpiece I had just delivered.

After class, I tried to duck out of the room as fast as possible, but of course, Mr. Dreadmore stopped me at the door.

"Don't think you're getting away with that one, young man," he said, in that voice that just drips with judgment. "I'll be taking a closer look at your answers."

I just stared at him, trying to hide the fact that I was seconds away from melting into a puddle of pure embarrassment.

But wait—there's more. The real icing on the cake happened during lunch. I'm sitting there, eating my sandwich like a normal human being, when Ben casually brings up the quiz.

"I'm sure Mr. Dreadmore will love your answers, man," he says, grinning.

I wanted to crawl under the table.

We all know that Ben has a zero filter when it comes to teasing me, but for some reason, he just wouldn't let it go. "So, do you think Athena's gonna send you a thank-you card for your wise insights? Maybe you should get a letter of recommendation from her."

I could feel my face turning bright red, and I was getting ready to throw my lunch at him (which, by the way, would've been awesome if I had good aim).

But yeah, here we are. I'm officially in the middle of a full-on war with Mr. Dreadmore, and the guy hasn't even really started going after me yet.

I'm pretty sure tomorrow is going to be just as awkward, so wish me luck. If I don't survive this, I'm making sure someone writes an epic story about how Mr. Dreadmore is the villain of my high school career.

Okay, who am I kidding? I'm probably just going to try to sneak out of class when he's not looking. That seems like a more solid strategy.