18Author's Note: In a desperate attempt to prove to myself that I can write things other than fanfiction, I began this story. Inspired by "The Nanny Diaries" and true life experiences of me, myself, and I. Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. You know who you are.
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-Prologue-
By now I can manuver my way through the cramped halls of Lutheran High with my eyes closed after being spun around ten times. I mean, seriously, there are only three hallways. It would take an idiot to get lost in the place. So it's no biggie as I make my way to the office while I scribble a note to myself on the back of my hand with a glitter gel pen. Who needs paper, I ask you?
Finishing my note, I glance up at the glaring, underpaid secretary who looks as if she hasn't smiled in years and has consequently forgotten how. "Morning!" I chirp cheerfully, flashing her with a winning smile- the product of years of orthodontic work, bi-annual trips to the dentist, and enough money to buy a mansion in the Bahamas.
My cheeriness, however, has no visible effect.
"Yes, Summer?" she demands in a monotone.
I hand over the envelope that has been tucked neatly under my arm. The effect is now immediate. She quickly accepts it, though not quite quickly enough to be considered 'snatching.' But it's a darn close call.
It figures, I think to myself as she curls her pursed lips into a grotesque attempt at a smile, that the only time she grasps the concept of friendliness is when she's grasping the monthly tuition bill. I flash another smile and sidestep a sulking girl with a 'Bite Me' T-shirt on, leaving the secretary holding what could have potentially been a new car.
I love private schools, I really do.
Of course, it wasn't always this simple. Once there was a time where I wasn't sure where the Algebra classroom was, or when I might have been put off by the cold stare of the secretary, or when waking up at 5:30 in the morning for band might have seemed absurd. But it's simply routine now.
Everyone tells you that high school is the best four years of your life. Everyone else tells you that college is. As of now, I have no comparison, but if high school is as good as it gets, I must beg you to kill me now.
Don't get me wrong, my past years of high school have been fine, but I would hardly qualify them as being 'the best of my life.' On a scale of one to ten, with ten being 'great,' I'd rate high school as being approximately a 4.25, tops.
But the worst of all these years, the year that would have been rated at a 2, was the dreaded freshman year. (Cue dramatic music.)
Freshman year- the bane of every eighth grader's existence, the nightmare of every incoming student. And for good reason! After all, you've just spend eight plus years painstakingly working your way up the totem pole of grade school hierarchy. And once you get to the top, you're suddenly dumped back on the ground and expected to start all over again.
It's a vicious cycle, isn't it?
Someone has to do it, I suppose. We all have to be freshmen at least once in our lives, and sometimes it's just best to get it over with. Grin and bear it. Hope it all gets better, and fast.
Of course, it probably won't get all that much better, but that's beside the point. We can always hope for the best. If not, at least there will always be a new batch of freshmen the next year.
Fresh meat. Fresh meat for those of us who have lived, learned, and survived with shreds of our sanity.
But don't be too cruel. After all, we were once freshmen too.