They Don't Make 'Em Like They Used To

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"Hi, Cheyanne," Danny greets me the next day as I slide into my seat in Honors Physical Science.

"Hi, Danny," I smile as the tardy bell rings and Mr. Jones enters from the hallway.

"You've had enough review from your middle school science curriculum. Today we're going to start with the basics."

"The birds and the bees?" one of our classmates calls from the back of the room.

I roll my eyes. Once Mr. Jones turns to address the student, Danny tosses a note onto my desk. I slowly open it, making sure Mr. Jones isn't looking. He's currently telling the young man that even if he does discuss the birds and the bees, it's not like any girl will go near him. I snort at the burn.

'I thought you had to be smart to be in HPS'

I nod. 'Me too,' I mouth as Mr. Jones returns to the front of the room. I have a newfound respect for him and his sass.

"Please get out your notebooks. Now, distance..."

Cheyanne-
Probably.
-Jessie

"We're going to start with the basics," begins my Freshman English teacher. I sit up a little straighter and click a pen with my left thumb. English is far and away my worst subject. I suspect it will be the end of my 4.0 and valedictorian aspirations. I know somewhere the letters "ESL" are checked next to my name, even though my mother has not spoken a word of Spanish to me in almost a year.

"Proper nouns..." the teacher trails off, and my pen positively flies.

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