The Two Middles

INTRODUCTION

Much to my displeasure, my brother was the one to wake me up, not hesitating a moment to roll me off my bed. I was up in an instant. Then again, who wouldn't be when they had unexpectedly fallen off of their bed, causing them a not-so-mini heart attack.

Despite tumbling me off at 7:00 a.m, I was kinda glad Preston made sure I was up. It was the first day of my Junior year in high school. I needed to be up early to mentally and physically prepare myself.

It wasn't that I was nervous about "making new friends" or because of the academics. No, I wasn't about making new friends because I already had the best friends in the whole world. As for academics, my mind was faaar from them. The only thing that made me nervous was the thought of seeing him again.

I hadn't seen him the entire summer and the thought of having him finally be there at school was bittersweet. What if I accidentally embarassed myself by slipping on a non-existent banana peel just as he was passing by or something? But then again, it wouldn't matter because my starving eyes would finally feast themselves on his fine self.
Once the morning routine was over, I walked down, smiling, to grab some food and go. My parents were seated on the table, looking excited.
"Good morning"s were exchanged and my mom literally couldn't contain her excitement. She always got this way when a new year at school began. My dad. comparatively, was much calmer.
"Aubrey!" my Mom squealed. "I can't believe my baby's going to JUNIOR HIGH!"
I sighed. Sometimes I had to remind myself that I was the kid and SHE was the mom. It goes without saying that this was one of these times. I told my mom to calm down and she said that at the moment, it was impossible for her to calm down. I laughed. I don't know why I did. I just felt really happy to be going back to school. As much as I hated that place, I couldn't help but miss it over the summer. My best memories had been created there, and I was looking forward to creating some more. My friends and I would be spending five days in a week together, I would get to see him five days in a week, and it felt good, as if nothing could bring me down. But then my dad decided to open his mouth.
"Aubrey," my dad said. "We expect you to do as well in your academics as you did last year, better, in fact."

There it was - the ever-dreaded line that hit me like a slap in the face at the beginning of every new year. My smile faltered a little (okay, MORE than a little). My parents were very caring and loving people and stuff. But when it came to studies, they expected a lot. Every year without fail, my ears would be given to hearing that sentence escape my dad's mouth. Every year, without fail, his expectations from me would grow stronger. And every year without fail, it would disrupt my morning. My dad wanted me to do well for my own good. And I got that, I really did. But sometimes it got a little too much. The fact that he felt the need to tell me this every year made me feel like he didn't think I would be willing to do my best if he hadn't mentioned it. Aside from that, I loved him.
I shot the smallest of nods, almost ignoring him, grabbed a toast and left as I shouted my good bye behind me as my mom squealed in excitement and got up in a rush to kiss me goodbye. Geez, it felt like I was five years old again.