"Careful, use your last moments of freedom wisely!" my friend warns me as we pull into the school parking lot, crammed into the bus seat, bags bulking with binders and notebooks (my personal favorite). And so three years of middle school I never thought would ever end begin. Great start.

I made it through sixth grade okay (yeah, I got distinguished honors the whole year…). I loved my class and had the biggest crush on this one kid who turned out to be a jerk (he told me and my friend our project was bull).

Seventh grade was a bit tougher (only made distinguished honors two quarters... okay, I'll stop bragging). I met my best friend Katie, who was new to our tiny town and ginormous school, and formed a group of five girls: Katie, Emily (who I met in sixth), Steph (who I'd known forever) and Lizzy (who was new, also). As far as teachers go, I had some good ones. Mrs. Grace was the best, and we all came too love Ms. Pheobe (although we were terrified of her the first day). Mr. Boynton was horrible. I got so mad at him one day I turned a lovely shade of beet red. I don't even remember why, but he assigned us a five page report on some dead French dude, all because a few kids did something. I told him, I did, I did. He dropped it and the report did happened, and so we all lived happily ever after. Okay, well, mostly happily ever after.

Eighth grade. Top of the food chain, the best seats in the house. It went so quickly. I had a huge crush (I mean, HUGE) on this kid named Casey. Now we're simply friends. The last week and a half or so were most likely the best. Let's see… I believe I can recall the events of those joyful days.

First, there was the dance. Oooooh, it was so fun! We danced barefoot and talked to our teachers. And we made Davis feel short, due to our sudden increase in height, thanks to our heels. Our poor language arts teacher is only about 5'8".

Then, we pretty much goofed off the whole last week. We got out early that Tuesday. On Thursday, our second to last day, no one did anything. Oh, they tried, the teachers did, but they could not prevail over our stubbornness to be lazy. Fourth period, which was math, we had a going away party for my friend Anne, who was going back to Holland. Only we couldn't call it a party. Lord knows why. Our math teacher just said we couldn't. She gave us a ditto (ha! no one did it). Me and my friend Mark made up "the rules of cake" (of course, we were eating cake at the time). We played BS (hehehe…) and then, when we tired of that, we started showing off our weird talents. Mark popped his shoulder blades out, Jenn had a double-jointed thumb…oh, but I beat them. I could put my feet behind my head. I believe I won that that day we had the ice cream social, where we all got our yearbooks and ran around signing other peoples. That was fun.

Tomorrow is our last day. We'll go to the high school auditorium for the awards ceremony and slide show, then do the French-German soccer game. Then we'll eat and go home, because our cursed school is kind enough to give us a half-day. Lucky us. I'll be done with middle school and all its madness. Whoop-dee-doo. I couldn't be happier.

I have half a mind to scream "So long, suckers!" at the staff as they wave while our bus pulls out of the parking lot. The other half is going to make me wave nicely, though, perhaps blow a kiss or two for laughs. Sadly, I have been brainwashed into behaving well. Middle school can do that to you. Beware of it, my friends, it is a dangerous place.