Chapter One
The first day of middle school and I'm majorly freaking out here.
I woke up at 5:30 A.M. from excitement wondering how the next 3 years of my life are gonna be. I'm not one of those girly girls that freak out over every little pedicle on each of my nails. I dress comfortably no matter what people think of my clothes, or me. Most people call me a freak, most would say weirdo, some would say insane, some would say I'm a crazy insane freaky weirdo, which can be true, on different levels. But I've gotten better at truly not caring over it anymore.
So first day of middle school, I'm deciding what to wear and pick my comfortable pair of cargo pants and a regular T-shirt and yes, I am a girl, I wear cargo pants, big deal. Anyways, I got all my stuff into my book bag and rushed outside to the waiting school bus and prepared for the 30 minute bus ride to school, even though I'm the only kid that rides my bus. I live far away, get over it.
But my bus got there super early before the first bell for homeroom, and she didn't know and let me off anyway. I went inside gaping at how amazingly HUGE this place was. I, of course, went to my nerdy stupid self and got out my school map to try to find my homeroom.
First goal: FIND THE STAIRCASE! Eventually I got tired of that and asked a teacher and got downstairs to the 6th grade hall.
Second goal: Find my homeroom. Well, that was easy, I got there and put my stuff down at my assigned desk and went to my locker.
Third goal: Figure out locker combination and open the lock. It took me a million years but I finally got it open.
Then I met this girl that helped me open my locker, Claire. We eventually became best friends after about… one minute.
Fourth goal: Find all my classes and get there, ON TIME!
This was my schedule:
Homeroom
SSR *Silent Sustained Reading*
Science
Math/Lunch
Language Arts
Social Studies
But really, do I seriously have to have the most boring class in history, LAST PERIOD?
Ha ha, best joke ever, get it? Social Studies, History, ha ha, I crack myself up.
Anyways, yeah yeah yeah, I know what you're thinking: Ha ha, so funny, GET ON WITH THE STORY. Well, get over it!
Ok ok, I'll continue the story, GOSH.
So the days dragged on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, repeating itself over and over like that every day schedule. Every, single, stinking, day! And the sixth grade assistant principal didn't make it any more fun, whenever he was in the room, everyone was dead silent and working, or if it's at lunch, just eating. But when he's around, you either: A) Behave, B) Don't behave and get in trouble, or C) Behave but still get called to his office for no reason for something you did some other time. His name's Mr. Pope, but I and my friends called him, AND STILL DO, call him Mr. Poop. He he. Don't ask.
I know, I know, I'm rushing the story, but there's nothing interesting going on in sixth grade besides all the crap that the teachers are boringly making you learn, day after day after day after day after day, do I need to say any more? Unless you'd PREFER me to bore you to death with all the boring details.