Popstar High

Eight

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My day was exciting. Sabrina took me everywhere on her awesome scooter. We avoided Cameron and Jake.

I feel bad for Jake. But not Cameron. He keeps trying to weasel his way back to Sabrina. But then again, she is showing no mercy and he seems honest.

Maybe she should give him another chance.

But Sabrina and I conked out at 8:45 that night. The next morning, I was excited because Mrs. Lang, our homeroom teacher, said we were starting a project today.

Sabrina said it was probably something stupid. But I was still excited.

We hopped on the scooter and rode off.

Here's my schedule for Mondays and Wednesdays:

1: Mrs. Lang - homeroom
2: Mrs. Meyers - math
3: Mrs. Zacharias - language arts
4: Mrs. Mast - reading
5: Mrs. Symons - science
6: Mrs. Hopp - social studies
7: Mr. Deal - geography
8: Mrs. Chastain - writing
9: Ms. Gaffney - chemistry

This is my Tuesday and Thursday schedule:

1: Mrs. Grissmeyer - choir
2: Mr. Winkers - band
3: Mr. Symons - art
4: Mrs. Dillie - computers
5: Mrs. Mast - dance
6: Ms. Gaffney - cooking
7: Mr. Wiegel - gym
8: Mrs. Walker - sewing
9: Mrs. Mueller - drama

Day 2's were popstar-material.

On Fridays, we performed plays, performed for choir, presented essays/reports, performed for band, presented posters, and anything else we needed to do. We also had free time and team-building exercises.
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Rowan loves the schedule today. I could do without some subjects...

When we walked into choir, Mrs. Grissmeyer (Mrs. G) has us sing a scale and she put is in the right group - soprano or alto. Rowan was put in soprano and I was put in alto.

Some girl named Jeannette stood next to me. She was a ninth grader, I was an eighth grader. But we still had choir together, I guess.

She was standing really close. "Can I HELP you?" I asked, leaning away.

She turned to me and narrowed her eyes. "I like your style, kid."

Huh?

"Jeannette."

"Um, Sabrina."

"Hey, what happened? You were all... Tough a minute ago."

"I'm not afraid to say what I think."

"I gathered that much."

She turned her eyes towards Mrs. G. "I hate this class," she moaned. "If we weren't standing, I'd be asleep."

I put a corner of my mouth up in a smirk-smile.

Jeannette did the same at me. But then, Mrs. G said, "Repeat after me." And then, "Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya."

We repeated. Jeannette actually had a cool voice. Raspy, like Adele's. But amazing.

"I like your style, too," I said when Mrs. G stopped to talk to one of the altos one-on-one.

Jeannette smirked. "I don't have a style. I have a personality."

I smiled. "Don't we all."

She gazed at me. "You're an eighth grader. So am I. But I'm in ninth grade, because my mom is dating the principal. And so he had me skip a grade? I don't even know."

I laughed. "My moms dated countless guys," I said. "So has mine," Jeanette sighed. "A rabbi, a lawyer... That lawyer breakup got messy."

I laughed again. Jeannette did, too.