"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."
~ Orson Welles
***
It turns out that this Monday was meant to be just as shitty as the rest of them.
After getting stuck in morning traffic and being late for the bell, causing me to lose my alone time in the library I usually spare for myself in the morning, I found that my grade in Sports Lit had dropped in spite of my attempts to pull it up to a B to please my parents. On top of that, Hayden is nowhere to be found and Abbie stayed home because she'd been having multiple anxiety attacks hourly during the weekend. And so I'm stuck here with Ames and Caitlyn. Not that that is bad or anything, but the only classes I share with them are AP Lit and Economics, meaning that I'm by myself for most of the school day...
Hypothetically speaking.
Sports Lit and Anatomy go by slowly and might I add, agonizingly. Don't get me wrong, my Anatomy teacher is cool. Ms. Jones is one of the youngest teachers here and she graduated from the University of Nevada, Reno last year and ended up in this crap city. She teaches multiple science related classes a day, like Biology, Botany, Chemistry, Health Ed and Anatomy. I'm in both her Anatomy and Chemistry which is my sixth period. Ms. Jones is the one teacher that everyone loves because of her lightheartedness and her positivity. She's really hip and has brown hair she puts in a ponytail and likes to put blue and green highlights in occasionally. She wears fun graphic tees underneath the white lab coat she wears all the time. Most of the junior and senior boys have a crush on her which I and many other girls my age find disgusting. At least Ms. Jones isn't as gullible as this one teacher we had back in my freshman year. She was about the same age as Ms. Jones is now and liked to hook up with students who were dumb enough to have affairs with her, which is how she ended up getting fired.
Ms. Jones is in a less positive mood than normal this morning. Not only do I know this by her lack of funny making up of words like "microscopify" and "vocabulate" but also by the amount of worksheets she assigned to us over the course of a forty-six minute class period.
AP Lit finally rolls around and though I'm excited to continue reading Hamlet, the teacher is ridiculous and I share the class with a bunch of people I absolutely hate. Call me a bitch but I already know that.
When you're an eighth grader back in middle school, if the English teacher finds you "smart enough" she has to sign a paper recommending you for Honors English in your freshman year at high school. From there you go to Honors English II then to AP Literature as a senior. You only need three English credits to graduate our high school, so the system works out according to those standards.
Mrs. Galvin has been my teacher for all three years. She teaches all three classes in different periods of the day along with Creative Writing which I took in junior year, Student Leadership, and Journalism. There are two other English teachers in this school who do the same thing but Mrs. Galvin teaches all the honors classes so circumstantially, I ended up with her when I came in from middle school.
"Good morning, Colby," She greets me as I approach the door which she is holding open for students. Mrs. Galvin has always favored me. Maybe because I actually enjoy writing and reading books or because I don't act completely retarded during class time and get my work done. Whatever it is, it's done wonders for me during the past three and a half years.
