Franklin High is nothing short of a nightmare. Today is the first day of the tenth grade. We haven't even made it through the first period, and Mrs. Bernstein is already giving me the third degree.
“Marcella?”
I look up from my doodling to see her staring at me.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“Are we really going to have the same problem as last year? Or will you pay attention.”
I hate school. I do not see the point in learning about things that I will never use in the real world.
"Marcella? Are you listening?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bernstein. You have got my full and undivided attention. Do go on.”
Apparently my tone is bad-mannered or something, because next thing you know I am sitting in a chair outside of the principal’s office.