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"You are cool. I like you"
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October 30th, 1984
6:00 am
The loud beep of my alarm yanked me out of sleep. I groaned and hit the snooze button, rolling over and thinking about how nice it would be to stay in bed all day.
"Why can't school just not exist?" I muttered.
After a few minutes, I forced myself to get up. I rubbed my eyes and stumbled to the bathroom for a quick shower and brushed my teeth.
Back in my room, I grabbed a white shirt and dark jeans from the floor and threw them on. I tried to fix my messy hair in the mirror, but it didn't help much. Grabbing my jacket, I headed downstairs, my stomach growling.
In the kitchen, my mom was already there, eyeing me like she was annoyed. "Why are you dressed like a hobo?" she said sharply.
Dad looked up from his newspaper and said, "I think he looks fine," before going back to reading.
Mom didn't say anything else, and I started digging through the cabinets, hoping to find something to eat.
After checking every cabinet, I slammed the last one shut. "Do we seriously not have any cereal?" I said, annoyed.
Dad, still reading, said calmly, "If you didn't find any, then we don't have any."
I let out a loud sigh and looked at him. "So what am I supposed to eat then?"
Dad sighed back and said, "My wallet's in the living room. Grab fifty bucks and go get something."
Still not looking at me, he took another sip of coffee. I shook my head and walked toward the living room, already tired of the day.
7:10 am
Mr. Clarke placed a small, pink model of a human brain on his desk. "Meet the human brain," he said, waving a hand toward it like he was introducing a guest speaker.
I sat in my usual spot at the back of the classroom, slouched in my chair, already struggling to keep my eyes open. The classroom lights felt way too bright, and the low hum of the heater made it even harder to stay awake. I rested my chin on my hand, yawning quietly as I tried to focus.
Mr. Clarke started explaining parts of the brain, pointing at different spots on the model. His voice was calm, almost too calm — the kind that made it even easier to drift off if you weren't careful. I blinked a few times, fighting to stay awake, but each blink lasted longer and longer.
Around me, the other kids were mostly paying attention, scribbling notes or pretending to. I caught sight of one kid doodling in the margins of his notebook, and for a second, I thought about doing the same. But even that felt like too much work.
