Randi

Chapter 1: The Chain Reaction

Chapter 1: The Chain Reaction

I'm sitting in class surrounded by students that have a year more of experience on me. Most would think "Oh you're in a senior class? You must be really ahead in your grade." Well, I'm not. I was but then my teacher threw me into a class full of people that surprisingly made it into high school, let alone senior year. Mrs. Haulk, my math teacher, is lecturing the class about LCD (lowest common denominator for those of you who don't know) and I can hear my watch ticking. It might actually drive me mad. My phone died in choir fifth period so for the past two periods, I have successfully mastered drawing. Stick figures, that is. I don't draw outside of my studio, which is what I call my room. I've basically turned it into a small art studio. I don't really like to draw outside of there because then people will be able to see and judge what I draw. The only things people actually see of my work are the graffiti sunflowers that I plant around the city to let out a little sunshine from my dismal life.

Finally, Mrs. Haulk relinquishes her attempts at completing the lesson and turns the class over for the last few minutes before the bell. Total anarchy erupts from the other students. My friend Karri walks up to my desk as per usual to take a picture of the pages for homework due to the fact that I am one of the few who actually pick a book up from the class set by the cabinets. The bell rings and we grab our things, beginning out trek to the other side of the school together. She and I have five out of our eight classes with each other this year. Karri is on of those students that has the best grades, studies her heart out, and does almost everything she can to get an A in every class. Me? Yeah, not so much. I study and focus, well multitask because i physically can't do just one thing at a time most days. My grades are total lies. I fix my grades and try my best to keep a B average. I try to learn new new things, however, I just can't go and ace a test. My mind draws a blank and I literally cannot remember a thing. It's awful.

We finally get to history, and our teacher Mr. Mainroe stands in the hallway talking to other teachers. We walk into class and see there are envelopes on the desks. I already know they are invitations for the National Honors Society and of course there isn't one on my desk. Immediately, I inwardly groan and sit down. These damn letter are going to be the talk of the school for the rest of the month. Rather than writing the practice thesis for some essay, I sketch out what I believe is the scene that will unfold when I reveal to my parents that i did not receive an invitation to apply for the National Honors Society.I imagine my brother making fun of me for not getting into it and then lecturing me about the exact thing. My mother is going to lecture me about how I could have done better in school and that i would have gotten in had I tried. My father may be the worst of the three people living in our house. He most likely will combine all methods used by my mother and sibling. Nagging, lecturing, making fun of me. Then he'll start to compare me to my brother.

Welcome to my life.

A while into the class, not even twenty minutes or so, a guy named Dustin walks into the room. He says something to Mr. M and points in my direction. I quickly put my head down and look at my notebook hoping they did not noting that I was watching them. Mr. M does his signature wobble shuffle walk thing through the rows of desks before finally stopping at mine in the back of the class. I raise my head as he begins to speak quietly so not to disrupt other students.

"Dustin told me that some CRC team needs you and Kyle up in the woodshop at this time to fix something that someone broke this morning apparently. You both can head up now. There will be a Chapter 29-30 test on Monday."

Kyle and I are out of the room merely seconds after Mr. Mainroe stops talking to us. We walk pretty leisurely to the woodshop, which is on the opposite side of the school, and up a flight of stairs into the industrial tech wing. I push open the doors to the shop and walk into the dust filled room. We are greeted by the loud wails of saws and drills being used. The Gifted teacher, Ron acknowledges our presence and shuts off the saw he is using to yell to the two of us.