Disclaimer: I do not own Recess!
A/N: This story was based on a almost year-long drama story that my graduating class had with our principal...involving lies, scandals, partial robbery, etc. I'm just glad I'm finally graduating Friday so I can move on away from that money hog. So, I decided one day, hey this would make a good Recess fanfic, so here it is, and hope you enjoy...well, not enjoy, it's a bit dramatic at times, but enjoy it anyway!
Spinelli Woods, Esq.: Glad you liked it! I made you class president in this fic, since I couldn't think of anyone else to give the job too, lol! Hope you don't mind!
LilVickiRyan: Thanks, I'm glad it wasn't cheesy! I hope you like this fic!
Chapter One: Senior Year!
It was the year 2005, and T.J. Detweiler and his friends were finally in the twelfth grade at Ronald Reagan High School. At last, they would not have to worry with putting on fund raisers, paying class dues, and putting up with prom decorations. Every year, the junior class has to raise money themselves outside the school to pay for the senior class's prom...which had to be held outside the school as well. For some reason, the school refused to have anything to do with the prom, leaving the kids to scramble for money themselves.
But now, those days were over, and with a little over one thousand dollars still in the bank, every one could relax.
"Man, this is gonna be the best year ever!" T.J. exclaimed as they all went to their home room teacher, Mrs. Mitchells (who was former King Bob's mother). "I've got major plans already for each of our vacation breaks."
"Don't forget," Gretchen Grundler added, fixing her glasses. "Seniors don't have to take as many hours as the other kids do. While we only have to take four hours, they must stick with the required seven hours."
"That's the best part," Spinelli agreed. "It'll be like cutting school...only legal!"
"Yeah, but they made P.E. class last hour!" Vince LaSalle moaned. "And I have to have that class in order to play on any sports team!"
"So, you have to come back to school just for that hour?" Gus Griswold asked him, who had grown so tall by now, he was actually looking down at Vince.
"That has to whomp," T.J. muttered to his athletic friend, as they all went inside Mrs. Mitchells' room. "But, hey, at least none of us failed for another year in a row."
"Well, that may be true," Gretchen responded sadly, taking her seat near the front of the room. "But don't forget about Mikey."
The gang held their heads down in memory of their good friend Mikey Blumberg. Mikey had been at a singing recital one year, when he accidentally ate something he was allergic to–shellfish. They were unable to get Mikey to the hospital on time, and unfortunately, the sweet-souled giant had passed on.
"But, he's in a better place now," T.J. reminded them. "He's off WAY better there than he ever was here."
"Yeah, he doesn't have to wear these stupid name tags," Spinelli added, tugging at her lanyard that had a plastic "dog tag" (as they called them) dangling from it. "I can't believe we had to pay five bucks for this stupid thing!"
"Don't forget these atrocious uniforms," Vince commented, looking grossly at his white polo shirt and navy pants.
At last, the tardy bell rang, and everyone was in their rightful seats. T.J. saw a lot of the same familiar faces—Jimmy Reed, the Guru Kid (who now had his own online advice column), Lizzie Turner, the Upside-Down Girl (now right side up), Francis Paparillo, the Hustler Kid and of course his girlfriend Sammi (who was also class president), and sadly Randall Weems and the four Ashleys were still with them.
The Digger Boys had both gone to prison for digging secret tunnels around the White House, the Pentagon, and the Air Force base in order to steal top secret information and sell it to the Iraqi forces. Linda Moore, the Swinger Girl, had been offered a job by Delta Airlines to fly one of their biggest jet planes, so she wasn't with them either.
Mrs. Mitchells presently came into the room and did her usual "Welcome to Ronald Reagan High, I hope you had a great summer" speech, and then handed out the text books. T.J. wondered how Mrs. Mitchells was feeling now that her soon Bob had been recently deployed and sent to fight in Iraq, but he didn't want to ask her in front of everyone. Technically, he thought, it's not even my business.
"Hey, Teej," he felt Spinelli jab in the side. "Want to go to Kelso's after we get out? Some other kids are going to celebrate our first day as seniors."
"Sure, that sounds like fun," T.J. whispered to her before Mrs. Mitchells caught them. He and Spinelli had been dating since last year, when he finally got the nerve to ask her to their prom, and it ended up with them being a couple.
"Okay, we're all meeting at the front of the school after fourth hour," she told him. "And I think we're going to have a class meeting along with it."
"Meeting?" T.J. whispered while Mrs. Mitchells called roll. "We don't need those anymore!"
"T.J.?" Mrs. Mitchells asked from her desk. "Is there something you want to share with the class?"
T.J. slid down in his seat, embarrassed. "No, ma'am." He wondered why they would be having a class meeting for. They didn't have any other business to take care of...or did they?
Sorry if it is a bit slow, but this WAS based on actual events, and I'm trying to make it as realistic to the truth as possible. PLZ review!
A/N: This story was based on a almost year-long drama story that my graduating class had with our principal...involving lies, scandals, partial robbery, etc. I'm just glad I'm finally graduating Friday so I can move on away from that money hog. So, I decided one day, hey this would make a good Recess fanfic, so here it is, and hope you enjoy...well, not enjoy, it's a bit dramatic at times, but enjoy it anyway!
Spinelli Woods, Esq.: Glad you liked it! I made you class president in this fic, since I couldn't think of anyone else to give the job too, lol! Hope you don't mind!
LilVickiRyan: Thanks, I'm glad it wasn't cheesy! I hope you like this fic!
Chapter One: Senior Year!
It was the year 2005, and T.J. Detweiler and his friends were finally in the twelfth grade at Ronald Reagan High School. At last, they would not have to worry with putting on fund raisers, paying class dues, and putting up with prom decorations. Every year, the junior class has to raise money themselves outside the school to pay for the senior class's prom...which had to be held outside the school as well. For some reason, the school refused to have anything to do with the prom, leaving the kids to scramble for money themselves.
But now, those days were over, and with a little over one thousand dollars still in the bank, every one could relax.
"Man, this is gonna be the best year ever!" T.J. exclaimed as they all went to their home room teacher, Mrs. Mitchells (who was former King Bob's mother). "I've got major plans already for each of our vacation breaks."
"Don't forget," Gretchen Grundler added, fixing her glasses. "Seniors don't have to take as many hours as the other kids do. While we only have to take four hours, they must stick with the required seven hours."
"That's the best part," Spinelli agreed. "It'll be like cutting school...only legal!"
"Yeah, but they made P.E. class last hour!" Vince LaSalle moaned. "And I have to have that class in order to play on any sports team!"
"So, you have to come back to school just for that hour?" Gus Griswold asked him, who had grown so tall by now, he was actually looking down at Vince.
"That has to whomp," T.J. muttered to his athletic friend, as they all went inside Mrs. Mitchells' room. "But, hey, at least none of us failed for another year in a row."
"Well, that may be true," Gretchen responded sadly, taking her seat near the front of the room. "But don't forget about Mikey."
The gang held their heads down in memory of their good friend Mikey Blumberg. Mikey had been at a singing recital one year, when he accidentally ate something he was allergic to–shellfish. They were unable to get Mikey to the hospital on time, and unfortunately, the sweet-souled giant had passed on.
"But, he's in a better place now," T.J. reminded them. "He's off WAY better there than he ever was here."
"Yeah, he doesn't have to wear these stupid name tags," Spinelli added, tugging at her lanyard that had a plastic "dog tag" (as they called them) dangling from it. "I can't believe we had to pay five bucks for this stupid thing!"
"Don't forget these atrocious uniforms," Vince commented, looking grossly at his white polo shirt and navy pants.
At last, the tardy bell rang, and everyone was in their rightful seats. T.J. saw a lot of the same familiar faces—Jimmy Reed, the Guru Kid (who now had his own online advice column), Lizzie Turner, the Upside-Down Girl (now right side up), Francis Paparillo, the Hustler Kid and of course his girlfriend Sammi (who was also class president), and sadly Randall Weems and the four Ashleys were still with them.
The Digger Boys had both gone to prison for digging secret tunnels around the White House, the Pentagon, and the Air Force base in order to steal top secret information and sell it to the Iraqi forces. Linda Moore, the Swinger Girl, had been offered a job by Delta Airlines to fly one of their biggest jet planes, so she wasn't with them either.
Mrs. Mitchells presently came into the room and did her usual "Welcome to Ronald Reagan High, I hope you had a great summer" speech, and then handed out the text books. T.J. wondered how Mrs. Mitchells was feeling now that her soon Bob had been recently deployed and sent to fight in Iraq, but he didn't want to ask her in front of everyone. Technically, he thought, it's not even my business.
"Hey, Teej," he felt Spinelli jab in the side. "Want to go to Kelso's after we get out? Some other kids are going to celebrate our first day as seniors."
"Sure, that sounds like fun," T.J. whispered to her before Mrs. Mitchells caught them. He and Spinelli had been dating since last year, when he finally got the nerve to ask her to their prom, and it ended up with them being a couple.
"Okay, we're all meeting at the front of the school after fourth hour," she told him. "And I think we're going to have a class meeting along with it."
"Meeting?" T.J. whispered while Mrs. Mitchells called roll. "We don't need those anymore!"
"T.J.?" Mrs. Mitchells asked from her desk. "Is there something you want to share with the class?"
T.J. slid down in his seat, embarrassed. "No, ma'am." He wondered why they would be having a class meeting for. They didn't have any other business to take care of...or did they?
Sorry if it is a bit slow, but this WAS based on actual events, and I'm trying to make it as realistic to the truth as possible. PLZ review!