Just A Teasing Book

Part 3: Lands, Hits Three Walls, Breaks a Lamp, and Kills a Cat.

I sit in a long group of desks in Ms. Arts' room. The daunting room is dimly lit with a couple of windows on the opposite wall from the door. The carpet and abundance of desks squeezed into the already small space makes me feel a bit claustrophobic.

Ms. Art is the eighth grade English teacher whom I've heard a lot of complaints about from the class above me, making me fear next year when I have her as one of my teachers. Just great.

It's a good thing, by being my normal, well behaved self, I've gotten her to like me. I'm getting ahead of the game!

Obviously, I'm not in the eighth grade, so I really shouldn't be in this room in a normal situation. Especially when it looks like it belongs in an old, cheesy horror movie, not one of the actual, newer, scary ones. I really would't be surprised if it were haunted though. Or if Ms. Art were possessed.

Maybe that's why they hate her so much...

Okay, that was mean. But I really do have a valid explanation to the reason I'm forced to endure being in this classroom.

It's one word. Actually, it's an acronym, but I don't know what it actually stands for. And I don't care to find out. But I looked it up anyway out of curiosity.

PARCC. Partnership for Assessment of Readiness for College and Careers. Just the name of the darn test makes me shiver with pressured nerves. I mean, I'm only half way through seventh grade and they already want to ship me off to some prestigious college in Europe or get me an occupation, so I can finally make money to support myself. I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up!!! AHHHH.

Excuse me. I freaked out a bit for no apparent reason. Let's get back to the definition of hell.

PARCC is the new and most definitely stupid state testing that took place of the old one about two years ago. Our old state testing was on paper, a big booklet of questions, which I prefer over computers.

I know right, I'm so old fashioned.

Maybe not. I know a lot of the people in my class hate it on the computers as well. You spend an hour and a half staring at a Chromebook screen, then try to go on with everyday life, you feel like you're dizzy the whole time. Don't even comment on the headache. At least it only lasts for a couple of hours.

For me at least.

While the eighth graders take their section of the PARCC test (which backwards sounds like C-CRAP if you haven't noticed already) the seventh graders do "electives". Basically, the teachers come up with something fun that has something to do with what they teach.

Even though Ms. Art teaches English, her elective is "therapeutic coloring". Me, I'm not a very patient person, so I dislike coloring and all other forms of art. Except for finger painting. But we don't do that anymore.

Unfortunately.

Also being the lucky person I am, I was put in a group of people who I have a hard time tolerating, except for maybe four of them. One of those people being Wilson.

Who is Wilson you ask? That's a good question that I am still trying to answer myself as a matter of fact. Well, if you read this when it was just a short story, then you already kind of know who he is, but I guess I'll explain to those slackers who need a catch me up.

Wilson is a brown haired, bright, blue eyed boy who is at least three inches shorter than me. I had to add the height thing. As a girl whose height is very much above average, it's necessary to my nature.