The Good Ones

Summer School: Day 1

A/N: I did my research on Wilson high school and class times and dates are accurate! Hope you enjoy!

•••••

Monday, June 24th, 10:15 a.m. - in front of the main entrance
       I can feel the familiar sensation of warmth spread throughout my body, my nerves are going wild. I am what you would call a "Worrier" or a "Worry-Wart". For no reasonable reason whatsoever, I continue to worry that something's wrong. That I'm not at the right place or at the right entrance, that I'm here too early, that I'm here too late, the door is locked and I can't get in, or maybe there was a mishap and I am not even supposed to be in/enrolled in this summer school classes.

       I look down at the pieces of paper crumpled in my hand for at the very least, the hundredth time that day. Sure enough, every single worry that I was having, was proven to be unreasonable when my eyes scanned the two pieces of paper. The first piece of paper was my "Counseled-out" letter that I had received the last day of school. And, the second piece of paper, being the sheet with all of the information about the summer school classes and such. The second sheet, in which I printed out directly off of the WHS website, read:

2019 Wilson High School Summer School Dates and Hours:
Monday, June 24, 2019 - Friday, July 26, 2019 (5 weeks)
Period 1: 7:50 a.m. - 10:15 a.m. and Period 2: 10:35 a.m. - 1:00 p.m.

Attendance:
A minimum of 85% attendance is required for credit. Summer School will be in session beginning Monday, June 24th through Friday, July 26th, 2019.

Below that in my own messy cursive was written:
       Mr.Iglesias' class, Room 152.

       I take a quick deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves, then proceed to walk towards the door. To my relief, the door was in fact unlocked, the lights in the school were on, and faint voices of teachers and students could be heard.

       Immediately I walk to my locker and put in a couple of pencils and stuff that I may need. Then, I slammed it shut gently and sit down with my notebook in my lap, and my back pressed up against my locker. The sliver of exposed skin felt even colder, as there was nothing in between my warm bare skin and the cold metal locker of mine.

       Honestly, I was starting to question my choice to wear my black crop top and maroon skirt the first day of summer school. At the beginning, the regret had been purely fueled by the cold feeling traveling throughout my body, but then as I thought about it and worried about it more, it no longer was solely because of the fact that wearing it against metal made me cold; Now what I was worrying about was more so like, will people think I'm trying too hard, am I showing too much skin, do I look too fancy for just the first day of summer school?

       I literally shake my head, pushing out all of the negative thoughts, not wanting to make myself more nervous than I already was.

       The clock on the hallway wall showed that it was currently 10:20.

       Knowing I have a good amount of time both before people start coming in to get to their classes, and before the classes themselves actually begin, I pull out my small sketchbook and place it on my lap and grabbing a pencil from my backpack. I flip to the page where I had been drawing out the outline for the jacket I wanted to make. The one I had been talking about earlier to Mr. Iglesias.

       I fix it up and add some more details like buttons and pockets and stuff, this was until I heard the sound of a the main entrance door open and close and the sound of the wheels of a skateboard rolling against the hallway floor tiles. I flinch the second I hear the noise become closer to me, I am very hyper aware I feel like, so I am pretty jumpy.

       The noise of the wheels rolling ceases to exist. "Y/n?" Mikey questions.

       "Oh, hey Mikey," I mumble in response. He makes his way over to me with his skateboard now in hand instead of under his feet.

       As he nears I get more and more tense. You know how like, when your crush walks by or gets close to you how you kinda become self-conscious and hyper aware of how you look as well as everything you do and say, even something as little as how you're sitting. Yeah that was me right now.

       Curious, Mikey asks me, "What are you doing here so early?" By now he has made it all the way to where I am sitting, and turns his back to the lockers and slowly slides down to sit beside me. So now I'm everything I said before, but like, 1000x that.

       "I don't know, I kinda like it here for some reason, so I came early to work on my sketches and to make sure everything is correct with classes and stuff."

       I try to ignore him and avoid staring by continuing with my drawing. For about a minute or so there was nothing but silence between us, that is, except for the voices of students and teachers in their classrooms just down the hallway.

       "Wait, what are you doing here so early? And skateboarding in the hallways against school policy? For shame Mikey, for shame," I scold him jokingly.

       "What? It's fun!" He defends, "Plus you know how much Hernandez hates it when kids skateboard in the halls. So, it's kinda like a 'screw you' sorta thing 'cause he can't do nothin bout me skating in the halls if he can't see me. But there is a joy to knowing that if he could see me his head would explode into a million tiny pieces. Anyway, I'm here because Mr. Iglesias told me to come see him 5-10 minutes early so we could talk," Mikey explains.

       "Ah, okay cool. So what do you guys need to talk about, if you don't mind me asking."

       "Honestly," Mikey confesses, "I have no idea what he wants to talk with me about. I mean, 'cause he already talked to us about our letter things and stuff. So, I don't know, guess I'll just have to figure out the hard way."

       I laugh a little, and we exchange a quick glance between each other. Our gaze is broken when the school bell rings and students come rushing out of their classes, relieved to be let out of summer school for the day.

       We both look towards the clock, 10:25.

       "See ya soon, Y/n, I gotta go talk with Mr. Iglesias," Mikey bids farewell.

       "Yeah, good luck by the way, don't get expelled," I call back in a joking manner, but when I get no reaction in response I can't help but feel that I broke through my filter again. Now all I have left to do is sit here and wait 10-20 minutes or so, until I need to get to class. So, I go back to what I had been doing prior to Mikey's interruption, sketching up the outlines for my personal history project.

•••••