How to Smile (On Hold, Will Be Rewritten)

You Ready for Middle School?

You Ready For Middle School?

       “Desiree Maya Robinson!” My mom hollered coming into my room. Whenever your parents call you by your full name, you know you are in trouble or have done something wrong. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING STILL SLEEP?”

       I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, disoriented. “Wha-?” My mom cut me off “Get up! You’re going to be late on the first day!” First. Day. Late. That’s when it hit me like a bucket of cold water. Summer vacation was over, it was back to school time.

       Ugh.

       I rolled out of my bed as my mom left my room muttering to herself; something along the lines of ‘I could sleep through a hurricane’, and ‘what would happen if someone were to break in.’

       I didn’t have to go through the process of finding an outfit to wear since I had already picked out my outfits for the week. After I dressed, I put on my glasses, instantly clearing the blur around everything I saw. We started school the day after Labor Day, September 2nd, so there would only be four days this week. Thank goodness.

       I hurried into the bathroom, brushing my teeth, washing my face, and applying lotion and other necessities. Lastly, I brushed my hair down; it had been flat ironed for this week. I was about to go downstairs when I remembered my backpack was still in my room. Snatching it from by my bed quickly, I sprinted down the stairs, almost tripping, and made my way to the kitchen. The bus would be here in about 4 minutes.

       Was I ready to go back to school? Absolutely not.

       Since there was only so much time for me to make the bus, I grabbed a poptart from in the pantry then yelled a goodbye to my mom who was getting ready for work. Eating and speed walking down the road, I couldn’t help but think that my bus stop was an inconvenient distance from my house.

When I arrived, I saw Uriah and several older kids at the stop. Today his hair wasn’t braided, and instead it was out, naturally curly. If he was just as jittery as I was, it was impossible to tell. He waved at me and I felt a swamping surge of relief that I wasn’t completely alone here. The bus came to a screeching halt not even a minute later. As we went up the steps onto the bus, my heart skipped several beats then began running a marathon.

The bus was divided up so that the sixth graders were at the front, seventh in the middle, and eighth in the very back. The further back you went the more rowdy it got. Every seat was taken except for one in the very back.

Following Uriah, who was radiating confidence, I made my way back trying to ignore the scoffing and teasing of the older students. “Aww, look at the little sixth graders, they’re so cute!” I heard one of the girls joke.

The bus had barely pulled from the stop when one of the kids in the seat in front of us turned around to face us. I noticed the tip of a tattoo poking from under his shirt collar. Was this life right now? “You ready for middle school, fresh meat?” he smirked looking us up and down. “Well, this year’s bunch will be fun.”

From the tone in his voice, I could he was trying to get a response from us. Either Uriah wasn’t aware of this or was planning on meeting that desire because he responded by rolling his eyes, smacking his lips, and saying “Perra,” which at the time was a word I didn’t know the meaning of, only to later find out it was a word that shouldn’t be used by an eleven year old, “we got this. Sit yoself down.”

The older kid laughed, ridding all traces of trouble before. “Kid, you must be new to be running around with that mouth of yours, but either way you have some nerve. I find that amusing. But not erybody down with that, so watch it,” then he turned to face me, “You Andrew’s little sis, huh?” Not saying anything I just nodded. “Oh, sorry for your loss.” That empty saying again.” I knew him a bit, and he didn’t deserve to go that way.”

See, in my neighborhood, news of everyone’s business went around. It wasn’t a secret.

I didn’t know how to respond and didn’t want to talk about it with this strange eighth grader but I agreed with him on that last part. Muttering a ‘yeah,’ I stared out the window past Uriah and the boy sat back down.

Eventually conversation picked back up between me and Uriah, who I decided to call Uri since I gave almost everyone with 5 or more letters a nickname, and I learned other small facts about him. Before you knew it we were at the school.

My school wasn’t anything impressive. It was averaged sized, two story, and made of white brick. I could already see students being let of their buses, entering the building we would be spending the next several hours.

If you listened closely, you could hear the sound of my brain and heart crying, begging for summer to come back.

To quote the hilarious Kevin Hart: I wasn’t ready.

     

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Hey guys! Sorry for the boring chapter, I had a busy week and this upcoming one won't be any better since I have a science fair and orchestra concert in the midst of it, so I tried to get a quick update in. Hope you enjoyed though! Don' t forget to comment, vote, and follow. I'm curious to know what my readers think. All of your reads are appreciated, and each of these things motivate me to keep writing. xD Love you guys! -Victoria Brown, Author