My eyes burned! This was ridiculous, what kind of teacher schedules a summative test at the last week of school? Especially in English, which should have stayed way back in fifth grade. When are we ever gonna use the words 'Kaleideoscope' or 'Arousematic'? Even if we did, can you imagine how abnormally formal we would sound? Point is, the last week of school is when students are bouncing out of their seats and ready to leave, whether the teachers are ready to stop torturing us or not. But no, we're stuck here matching up the definitions to the words that we wasted time on deciding if it's 'y' or 'ie' that's stuck at the end of the word.
I wasn't even listening to the teacher, just catching onto Gretchen repeating the words under her breath, and I took that as an invitation to copy from her. Gretchen was short, so it was easy for me to peak over her blonde-stranded head, though her glasses were so huge that you could even see through them from behind her.
"Katie!" Mrs. Robins's hawk-like tone screeched across the room and straight towards me. I tried to hide from it, but somehow it managed to slap me right across the face. It was obvious that she caught me cheating. I quickly surrendered my paper to my red-headed friend and let her take it to her desk. There went me A+ on my spelling test, after all I had done to deserve it.
Gretchen quickly caught on to what I had done and flared at me with her freckle-infected face and bulging glasses. All I could do was just give her a plain look and shrugged, she had every right to be mad at me. After all, I was trying to steal her grade. Now, I just sat there and stared at the mustache clock and waited for the last two minutes of class to melt through my feet. I wasn't one to talk when I had time, I much rather just sit and let time get the best of me, so as I let time get the best of me, I tried to imagine what my brother was doing right now. Was he packing already, at least helping mom with taking all the posters down from the walls and neatly folding them like mom said? Or was he spending his last few hours with his friend before they had to pack up and leave?
My younger brother, Raymond, got out of school much earlier than me, but my school still had a whole week left to go through. Lucky for me though, I got four days before anyone else did. My mom was dragging me and my brother over to the best possible place she could think of... California. Our dad was on a business trip, so he said that he could meet us down there in a few days. It was all because of a tiny little storm that threatened to drop a few tiny tornadoes and tiny raindrops. My parents aren't exactly the toughest on the block, much less than the bravest. I swear, even my dad would bump his hip against the table and act like he'd just been shot or something. Eight-year-old Raymond is braver than both of them combined.
Suddenly mustache-face clock let out a loud ringing screech, and in an instant everyone was standing and stuffing any stray papers into their binder or backpack and crowded around the door, trying to all get out at one, like a bunch of puppies trying to get to their soft food.
I silently pulled all the papers from my books and crammed all my pencils and pens into a small pouch in my backpack for next year, and trotted over to the recycling bin, dumping all the junk papers into the blue bin with the arrows forming a triangle right next to 's desk, which still held my stranded spelling words.
"Uh... Mrs. Robins?" I called, waiting for her to pop up from behind her desk with a handful of papers with a series of F's on them, but she didn't, only morphed into the side of my vision.
"Oh, yes, Katie." She responded, and I turned around to look straight into her green eyes from her glaring glasses. She was shuffling through a group of papers for what seemed to be taking an hour, but eventually handed me a purple slip of paper that contained my grades and other things for my mom to read over. Joy.
"Thanks." I called, already stuffing it into my dark backpack and making me way towards the exit to freedom.
Turns out the exit to freedom leads to the back of this gray school, filled with bus fumes and reeking garbage dumpsters. But it's just as well, because it'll be the last time I deal with this place in a long while. Out of the five buses lined up next to the wall, mine was right in the middle, which means I have to sit between two batches of exhaust-filled vehicles until the first two move.
I step off of the curb and onto the ledge of the bus, knocking on the glass window of the bus to get the attention of the driver, who seemed to be too distracted with dealing with the two arguing ninth graders who were already on the bus, fussing about a project that they had left in one of their lockers in the gym. Guys are so stupid sometimes.
Once the driver finally noticed me (and the two other girls lining up behind me), he gave an apologetic look and opened the door to the bus with a lever from inside. I forgave him.
Sitting with my friend, Melanie, is often the best part of my day, on the best days. But this wasn't the best day, and Melanie wasn't here, so I was all alone today. Which means Mathew and Masson, the Selvyne twins, don't have to worry about getting their butts kicked if they pick on me. Joy.
Melanie has a reputation for defending her friends, which is why Fox 1 (Mathew) and Fox 2 (Masson) know better. They got their names from faux (Spelled like fox) fur, being seen wearing it multiple times just to look cooler. Like I said, guys are so stupid sometimes.
So when they arrive on the bus, their eyes drift toward the back where I'm sitting. I flinch at the glare they give, and it's obvious that they could see fear. But I've got a reputation to consider, so I stick my nose up high in the air and show them that I would be able to sass them anyday. Only, when they get closer, I realize that they weren't looking at me, but the ninth grader in front of me.
"Hey, Bryce." Fox 1 snickers, glaring down at the younger student. "I see you're sitting alone again, today. Why's that?"
The plump darker-haired kid just shifts in his chair and stares at him silently. I decide that Bryce is too shy to handle this himself (no wonder he's such an easy target to the bullies), and try to jump in, myself.
"It's funny how you never pick on anyone older than you, Mathew. Are you afraid they're gonna whup you behind, too?" I snap, giving the nastiest glare that I could. "Or are you just targeting the easier ones because your too weak? You have anything to say to the younger ones, you can say it to me, too."
Fox 1 just stares at me with a smirk, almost seeming surprised that I spoke up. But by both of their expressions, I can tell that they both knew I was going to at some point.
"What are you, his mother?" Fox 1 finally retorts with a snort, his pig-like nose flared like he was trying to show off his nose hairs or something.
"That's right, foxy. And the next word out of anyone i'll be their mother too." My eyes drift to the silent Fox 2, almost daring him to talk. But he doesn't, having enough sense in him to remain quiet, I was hoping I wouldn't have to slap it into him. It's usually Fox 2 that knows best, but his little friend must have forgotten that I've whupped his behind many times before. He clearly doesn't need it this time, though. Fox 1 just sighs and walks back to the front of the buss again, his little sidekick follows.
Bryce turned around with a thanking smile, and I return it with a nod.
As the bus finally jerked forward, I felt confident that those two wouldn't pick on me again. Melanie isn't the only one with a reputation anymore.