Fifteen Feet Ahead

Chapter V

Heyyyy... So I can't believe this story was ranked. Okay 700something place doesn't sound too crazy, but if you think about how many Teen Fictions are out there, I guess we're doing pretty good. Notice I say 'we're' because I feel like we're a team with this project. I just do the writing. It's you guys who are the ones getting my work up in the numbers. So this chapter is dedicated to all of you! Thank you so so much!

Xx Audrey

• • •

Chapter V
🏫

Well, I made it to first period without getting lost. I deserved a medal for that because first period was biology, and it was located all the way upstairs.

When I walked through the doorway, I took a seat on a desk near the front, and the first thing I noticed was my teacher. She was the reason all Americans are stereotyped as obese, I'll put it that way. She could barely move, as she hobbled across to read off the seating chart. Jesus, Duncan could walk better than her, and he had a broken leg. Her blue maxi-skirt clashed with her green t-shirt, so bright it burned my eyes if I looked at it for long enough. Her red hair was tied in a tight tight bun with a pink scrunchy. My god, she was a sight.

"My name is Ms. Chadwick," 'Ms.' She wasn't married. Somehow I wasn't surprised.

Her meaty hands clutched the seating chart as she stared down at the names through her circular reading glasses. The entire class watched in silent wonder with the same question running through our heads: How does one let themselves go that... badly? "First off, I'm going to read this seating chart. Now remember, none of these seats are permanent."

The class still remained silent as we all picked up our backpacks and moved to the borders of the room.

"Sanders Healy," she read, tapping the first seat of the first row, and like a wave, the small vibration rippled all the way up her arm.

Instantly, my heart doubled its pace, and butterflies filled my stomach, tickling me from all sides. Sanders was in this class?! I guess I was too preoccupied observing our teacher's unique appearance to notice.

But wait, this was about to get even better.

"Miranda Fracella," she pointed to the seat behind him. Inside I'm dancing and screaming, but I try to hold back even the slightest smile. High school was heading off to a great start. First period, where I could stare at the back of Sanders Healy's beautiful blonde head for a full forty-five minutes every morning. Yes, life was good.

He huffed, plopping down in his new seat, throwing his backpack to the floor. Oh yeah, it's the first day of school, and we were all supposed to be miserable, I forgot.

So then, I did my best to look like I hated life too, nearly falling down into the desk as Ms. Chadwick jiggled her way through the rest of the seating chart.

Beside me sat Janie Miller. I barely knew her. We had a few classes together in middle school, but we didn't ever talk. Nonetheless, she seemed nice enough.

After about another half hour of our teacher blabbing about expectations of an Honors class and grading polices, the bell finally rang.

Janie yelled out, "Wait! Who else has History with Mrs. Quinnly right now?"

I glanced down at the schedule in my hand as I tossed on my backpack. There in print read, '2nd period, Mrs. Quinnly, American History'

"Oh, I do," I told her.

"Thank God," she smiled. "We can find the classroom together then."

• • •
It's funny how oblivious I was back then, to the world, and how I stood and what I meant within it. I sauntered through those halls, thinking about how great it really was to be in high school, daydreaming about Sanders Healy, and looking forward to all the school dances and football games. Oh man, I was so stupid.

Janie and I walked to Mrs. Quinnly's Classroom, making it there in efficient time without getting lost. That was two periods in a row that I didn't have trouble finding my classroom. I was feeling pretty good about myself.

I don't clearly remember what her and I really talked about on that three minute walk all the way down the stairwell and around the corner. It was probably something really casual.

Something like:

"So how was your summer?"
"Good, how about you?"
"Good, it was really good."

The first thing I noticed about Mrs. Quinnly's classroom were the posters. Literally, there was not an inch of white painted brick peeking throw the red, white, and blue laminated papers on the walls. It made the room feel a little messy, but by observing Mrs. Quinnly's desk, she was actually a very organized teacher.

Basically everything about Ms. Chadwick was a complete opposite of Mrs. Quinnly. Our American History teacher was tall and fit. Her skin was dark, smooth, and free from any splotches or acne of any sort. She had a young bright white smile, and her eyes glowed with an inspiration, a passion for her career.

"Welcome to Honors American History!" She beamed. "I'm so excited to get to know all of you this year! First off, here are a few important papers you'll want to read over tonight. They explain all the detail about the course, my contact information, stuff like that."

She gave five papers out to each of the people sitting in the front room, and the row leaders passed them backward to the people who sat behind them.

"I don't really believe in seating charts, so you can sit whatever you wish, unless we have a serious issue with class disruption."

I glanced from side to side. Janie had decided to sit beside me. I was surprised by that, for we really didn't know each other much at all, and in middle school, I always thought she was irritated by me for no apparent reason.

Brandon Clifford sat behind me. I remember feeling completely shocked that he would be taking an Honors History course. Heck, he was even more stupid than Duncan most of the time.

In the front of me was Sara Hicks. She was that one girl in every school that was so silent and shy, that when she was called on in class, her voice would crack and shake as if it hadn't been used in a few decades. It was just like when my dad took his twenty-year-old bicycle from the attic a few months ago; it still worked, but it was rusty and creaky.

Second period went by three times quicker than first period did, and before I knew it, the bell rang, and I headed to Gym Class.

• • •