Let me tell you a story. Let me warn you about something ahead of time, though- this isn't a lovey-dovey story about pegasi and princesses and heroes and second chances. This isn't a romantic story about falling in love. This isn't a story about vampires or werewolves with six-packs that sparkle in the sunlight.
This is a story about you.
Yeah, that's right. You. Now our story begins right here in this very town; not a big city like Los Angeles or New York City; just a small, average town with a few thousand people in it. The story takes place on a certain day- the day of the prom at the local high school- the one that I go to; the one that you used to go to.
We were sitting there in class; the last class period before lunch. At least, my friends and I were. I'm not sure what class you had at that time; I was in study hall. My friends and I were just messing around, passing around a blue spiral-bound notebook, playing finish-the-story, saving our home work for...
Well,... Home, and were spending the time just like every other high schooler does in study hall- just hanging out with friends, messing around... Just being high schoolers. Now, in that classroom were...
Let me think... Twenty three, twenty four students total. We had a substitute teacher that day; you know, the old guy that can imitate a cow's moo to perfection. "Mr. Moo", as we call him, due to his incredible skill at mimicking a cow's moo.
It was seven minutes before the lunch bell rang; I remember it as if I were looking at the clock this very moment as I write this. It's the one on the wall right beside the door; plain center with plain hands, a dark-blue plastic edge circling it; just a regular old clock, just like you'd see in any classroom in any school. Click... Click...
Click... Save for the quiet ticking sound of the clock as the second hand circled the clock in its usual slow manner, as if trying to make the minutes drag on until lunch, the room was dead silent, each student eagerly awaiting the sound of the bell's long anticipated ring. At last, I was the one to ask the question on everyone's mind- "Can we go to lunch early?"
"What time are you all supposed to get out?" the substitute teacher asked in his unfaltering southern drawl.
"Seven minutes." What can I say? I'm an honest kid.
"Two more minutes and I'll let you go." was the reply.
"Yesssssss!" the class rejoiced quietly, creating a hissing sound as they held out their S's, filling the air with a sound much like a pit of snakes out of Indiana Jones or something. Sixty seconds remained. Fifty-nine. Fifty-eight.
Fifty-seven. Just then, a voice came over the intercom. A female voice- I recognized it as Mrs. Adam's voice; you know, the blonde secretary who works in the office- came over the intercom. Of course, she made the same announcement that she makes every year on the day of the prom.
You know, the announcement that, with parental permission, we could leave the school early to start getting ready for the prom. Now, being a guy, I wasn't planning on getting ready for the prom until an hour or two before I had to leave. Being a high schooler, though, I thought, sweet, I get out of school early! "You can go to lunch now." the substitute teacher's voice came the moment that the announcement ended.
Instantly, everyone in the classroom, who had been on the edges of their seats just waiting for the teacher to let us leave, jumped up and rushed out of the door. As soon as they were out of the classroom, they took off towards their lockers, of course. Don't get me wrong; I did, too. However, I wasn't in as much of a rush as the others were, because I was going to take a moment to call my mom and tell her, in turn, to call the school and give me permission to leave early.
