Before you read: Ana Moran serves as a fantastic, non-judgmental writing partner. Readers should not take this piece of writing seriously.
The dreaded seventh period hovers around the corner. I wish sixth period would last forever. I guess I missed the shooting star last night though, because the bell chimes three times, signaling for all students to continue on with their day. I drag my feet along the hallway carpet, thinking that maybe if I can create enough friction and then touch Ms. Serensky’s door handle, I can electrocute myself so that I do not need to endure another day with my writing partner. I inhale deeply and flash-forward a few months. There I stand, gazing up at the ceiling of a brilliant hall in Harvard University, accompanied by other teenagers able to understand the theory of quantum entanglement. I snap back to reality and take my seat in the semi-circle. Across the room, the boy with the abnormally large head and UNC t-shirt laughs as he makes a sexist joke. I do not think he would laugh so hard when he hears that his fellow female classmate plans on attending Harvard next year. Ha! Such short-sightedness. And then he walks in. Him. How could fate turn against me so that I must endure him for a full semester as a writing partner? Actually, how could Ms. Serensky turn against me by pairing me up with this oaf? I make a note to myself not to include her in my speech after winning the Nobel Prize. He walks next to me. Goodness! I cannot become accustomed to his height! He would give Frodo Baggins a run for his money. Lol. Good one, Ana. He struts casually into his desk wearing a college logo t-shirt and gym shorts with black basketball shoes. Whoa Derek! Try not to step too far out on that limb! Maybe tomorrow he will decide on jeans…probably not though. Ms. Serensky asks us to begin discussing a chapter from Watchmen with our writing partners. Derek turns towards me, with concentration written on his face, preparing for an in-depth comment, and states, “So…I really thought that Laurie was like…super sexy.” Wow Derek, your insightfulness never seizes to amaze me. Ms. Serensky goes around the circle, passing back in-class essays. I fold back the corner of mine to glance at the AP Rubric score: 10+. Not bad. I sneak a quick glance at Derek’s paper and find him grinning from ear to ear at his 5- score. Atta boy, Frodo. Congratulations on scraping your way to a passing grade once again. The three “dings” from the bell cause everyone in the classroom to throw their belongings in their packs and race for the door. An innocent bystander would think the bell acted as a fire alarm, not a normal “beep” that signaled the end of classes. I follow in the wake of the students, eager to rush home and shower after another day with my writing partner.