Note from the author: Total Word Count: 5047. Words to Go: 24,953.
The next day was the same as the last. I woke up, ate, studied, ate, studied, ate, then went to bed. Before I went to sleep, I made sure to set two alarms.
Wouldn’t want to miss the monthly assembly, although, admittedly, they’re super boring. On the first Wednesday of every month all 1000-or-so students in the bleachers of the auditorium to hear the news, incomings, and outgoings. Since I’ll be leaving this month, my name should be mentioned during the outgoing mentions. I remember when I transferred here and I was humiliated that they read my name off during the incoming announcement. Good times. Now I’m proud to have practically completed my education.
I wake up to the sound of the last chance wake up call on the loud speaker. I spring out of bed like a ninja, wait for the head rush dizziness to pass, then lunge out of the room.
I hurry to get ready, skipping taking a shower even though I could probably use one. I rush through breakfast, silently cursing my stupid alarm. I guess it’s probably my fault that I didn’t turn up the volume, but I’m still mad at the alarm clock.
By the time I burst in to the auditorium out of breath (why wouldn’t they put the auditorium in the middle of the school instead of the far end?!?!) all of the good seats are taken. I squeeze into a middle spot right by the speakers and in-between two loud, gossipy girls. Not the ideal location, but all seats are good seats, right?
Wrong. The speaker is so crackly that my ears start to hurt right off the bat. And it’s a testament to how loud my neighbors are, because I can’t hear anything over their nasal, high pitched voices. The kid sitting in front of me apparently didn’t learn any manners because he keeps leaning back, forcing me to fold my legs back in an incredibly awkward position. I feel very pretzel-like. Plus, it has to be a million kazillion degrees in this room. Why has the air conditioner left us in this time of need?
I’m so uncomfortable that I’m tempted to get up and walk out. But I persevere. I’ve been at this school for five years and I’ll be darned if I don’t get to bask in a little recognition, gosh dang it! Is that too much to ask for? I think not.
I eventually snap at the girls next to me: “shut up!” They are glaring at me now but I prefer that to the nonstop jibber jabber. The next order of business is to get the guy in front of me to sit up straight. I poke his shoulder, shoot him the most winning smile I can muster, and politely tell him to stop leaning back. He rolls his eyes, but complies with my suggestion/demand. There’s not much I can do about the speaker but pray that it quiets down.
With the distractions gone, I here Mr. Vendetta, the principal, say “Now to the outgoing list”. Smooth transition there. I recognize all of the names; it’s not a giant school. The last names get closer and closer to mine. I hear Andrew Lamchop, Margie Lescowitz, and Xander Mae all get their names called. Then I hear “Chocolate Manson”.
Chocolate? How do you get “Chocolate” from “Charlotte“? I’m so annoyed with Mr. Vendetta that I could scream. This was my moment to shine. My moment to get credit for my achievements in front of the whole school.
I stalk out of the auditorium and head to my learning pod. Thanks to that joke of an assembly, I have a busy day ahead of me. By dinner time, I’m not in a good mood. First I wake up late, then I get called by another name, and now I have a butt load of homework.
When I run along the bar with my tray to get my dinner, I see Gus. He hands me a bowl of chicken pot pie and a chocolate milkshake. I glance around and note that no one else has a milkshake. “So you heard about the assembly.” He nods and makes some joke about something chocolate for his Chocolate. He has a weird sense of humor. Nevertheless, I do feel better.
I laugh and head over to my usual table. I finish my lunch and drink every drop of the milkshake. That was really thoughtful of Gus. And of course, it was a perfect pick-me-up.
I return to my pod feeling a great deal happier about life in general. I even finish all of my schoolwork. I thought it was going to take me all night. I’m a worrywort.
I decide a long, therapeutic shower is in order. I take my time, letting the warm water run all of the day’s turmoil down the drain. Then I braid my hair and put on my favorite pajamas. I take a leisurely walk in my bunny slippers (a Christmas gift from Amy) back to the cafeteria to get a snack.
Eating those addictive pretzel M&M’s and devouring those soft, fresh redvines, I make my way back to my dorm room. I feed Shelby a generous amount of food and check another day off of my countdown calendar.
Today was a long day. I’m glad I have Gus to cheer me up. I grab my tablet (my personal one, not my school one) and log on to the Netflix account that me and Amy share. I pick a happy movie and settle in my bed, cloaked in blankets. I clap off the lights. “Good Night Shelby,” I whisper. Then I drift off to sleep.
