Friday, October 6
Today was going to be the day. I woke up with my heart pounding like I'd just run a marathon and rehearsed what I was going to say about fifty times in front of the mirror. I even practiced how to casually lean against my locker without looking like I was trying too hard. The plan was simple: catch Alyssa right after 4th period and ask her to Homecoming before I could psych myself out.
By the time the bell rang, my nerves were on edge, but I was determined. I spotted Alyssa walking toward her next class, the crowd around us thinning out as everyone rushed off. My chance. I took a deep breath, stepped forward, and—
"Mr. Palmer!"
Out of nowhere, Mr. Dreadmore appeared like some kind of dark, lecture-giving shadow. He clamped a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around before I could even get a word out. The disappointment must have been all over my face, but of course, Dreadmore didn't care.
"About that history assignment due Monday," he said, his eyes narrowing like he'd just found a smudge on his beloved textbook. "I hope you're not planning to leave it to the last minute like you did with The Odyssey paper."
My mind was split between panicking about Alyssa walking away and half-listening to Mr. Dreadmore. I nodded at whatever he was saying, muttering a "Yes, sir" that seemed to satisfy him enough to let me go.
By the time I turned around, Alyssa was gone, lost in the sea of students heading to their next classes. I just stood there in the hallway, my moment completely ruined.
So, here I am, back to square one. Homecoming is a week away, and I'm still dateless. Mr. Dreadmore has officially reached a new level of annoying, and I swear he's secretly out to ruin my life.
YOU ARE READING
The (Not so amazing) adventures of Max
HumorDiary style book of a 14 year old boy called Max starting his first year of high school
