Living High School to the Fullest (Completed)

Chapter 9: Party-crashing Preparations

Chapter 9

During dinner on Sunday my parents wanted to know all about Brad’s and my first week back at school. Naturally, the focus was on Brad, since it was his first week at high school. He seemed to like it so far, made a new friend already and he really lucked out with his teachers. The only exception is his algebra teacher Mr. Murdoch. I don’t think anybody has seen him smile yet despite him being a teacher at our school for several years already. And the way he makes you feel when you get an answer wrong – uh, it just makes me shudder thinking about it. In my humble opinion, Mr. Murdoch hates teenagers. The only thing he seems to love is algebra. Still, there should have been some other career options for him than becoming an algebra teacher? Anyway, Brad will have to accept it. He had no other choice. Hey, if I was able to survive Mr. Murdoch, then Brad will, too.

At first, Dad and Mom were a bit surprised that I had chosen to join the environmental club when I told them about my week. But then Mom pointed out that I have always been very pro recycling and pro environment. She was actually quite happy about it and is convinced that I singlehandedly will turn the environmental club into something big and, quote, “a vital part of Jefferson High for generations to come”. Sometimes it is shocking how supportive, yet at the same time out of touch with reality my mother can be. Same goes for Dad who simply nodded while Mom turned me into a high school version of Al Gore. I swear, all parents have some gene which makes them believe that their kids are destined for greatness. Just think of everyone who is convinced that their kid will become the next President. Or top model. Or singer. You get the idea.

“Sarah, before I forget: Mrs. Cole called. Do you already have some plans for next Friday? She wanted to know if you are able to babysit the twins,” Mom let me know.

“Actually, I do. We were planning to go to this party. But I could cancel it or show up later, I don’t think that would –“

“Oh, a party! That’s wonderful. Don’t cancel it. You’re young, you should spend some quality time with your friends.”

I should have known that my mother wouldn’t let me miss out the party. A party I wasn’t invited to; but of course she didn’t know that.

“Um, okay. So can you tell Mrs. Cole that I can’t do it when you talk to her, please?”

Please, don’t tell me that I have to call her. Please, please, please.

“I think you should call her and tell her yourself,” Mom replied and smiled at me innocently.

There went the rest of my evening. Mind you, Mrs. Cole is a very nice person. She always pays me more than we agreed upon, calling it a bonus. Plus she always bakes my favorite cookies and leaves me with huge amounts of food. The twins, a six-year-old boy and girl, are pretty cute, too. Until it’s time for bed, then they turn into little monsters. Then again, all kids do, I guess.

The only thing which makes me dread babysitting gigs at the Cole’s house is Mrs. Cole’s horrible, horrible talent of talking non-stop. I once tried to time how long she can talk without me interrupting her or saying anything at all and ended the experiment out of self-preservation after 14 minutes. She can really talk your ears off.

Talking on the telephone isn’t too bad, though. You can always come up with an excuse like boiling milk or something. Still, it is quite difficult to get your own point across.

That’s why I always try to say everything in the first sentence when calling Mrs. Cole because my chances of saying anything important after that are slim to none. And that was the strategy for that phone call as well. I sighed while I waited for the other end to pick up. No busy signal. Oh well. Hm, no one answering? Maybe they were out and I could just leave a message on the –