High School Story

How Poor is Poor?

     "What do you mean public high school?" I demanded. "I did every year, including freshman year in private academies."

     "I just don't have the funds for it." Mom replied, handing me my soda from Burger King. "I am handling all of the bills on my own. There is a bus you can take and it stops right down the street."

     She handed me the schedule for Elko High School. "It starts at 6:55am?!" I cried. "Why?"

     "Not sure." She shrugged. "But you start tomorrow."

***

     What to wear. I grimaced as I went through my closet. I never needed to chose what to wear to school, and honestly, it's difficult. I settled on the fifth shirt I found along with a skirt, some cat tights, flats and a few accessories. I threw my hair up in a ponytail and looked in my mirror. I nodded, deciding that it would work and made my way to the bus stop. (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=206658192)

     I stood there, waiting when I felt a pair of eyes on me. "Hello?" A voice said, sounding curious. "Are you new?"

      "Have you seen me before?" I snapped turning around and seeing another girl looking at me intently.

     "Well, no." She answered. "I'm just trying to be nice. My name is Eva Adams." She held out her hand.

     I took it and we shook. "Erin Stanford. I'm not really a morning person." I explained.

     "No hard feelings." She smiled. "So, what brings you here?"

     "Family issues. Wanted to start over." I explained briefly. "Mom kinda just pointed to a spot on the map and decided to move here."

     "Fun." She commented as the bus came up. "Want to sit together?" She asked as the doors opened.

     "Sure." I replied and followed her onboard.

***

     So the school actually looked really nice. I wasn't expecting that. "What is your first class?" Eva asked, looking over my shoulder. "History with Mr. Jameson."

    
     "Is he a good teacher?" I asked. "I love history, and don't want a bad teacher."

     She giggled. "He's one of the hot ones. You're lucky, I have Mr. Ferrigus for history. I swear he was old enough to live through what he teaches. Are you hungry?" She questioned.

     "Not really." I frowned. "I am going to try to find this classroom so I know where I am going."

     "Well have fun." She smiled. "I am going to the cafeteria for some french toast." She waved and ran off.

     "Great." I groaned. This placed was huge. It was going to take me forever to find it.

***

     I found the classroom just as the tardy bell rang. I flung the door open and a man standing at the front of the room looked at me. "Ms. Stanford?" He asked.

     "Yes." I breathed. "I'm sorry, I couldn't find the classroom."

     "That's why they hand out maps to new students." Mr. Jameson shook his head.

     "I didn't get one." I explained. "The office only emailed me my schedule. I'm sorry."

     "Take a seat." He told me. frowning. I made my way to a seat in the middle on the end. I set my bag on the floor and took my blue notebook out. I grabbed a sharpie and wrote 'History Period 1' on the cover. "Sharpies are not allowed here." Mr. Jameson said as the smell wafted around the room.

     "Sorry," I said once again. "I wasn't aware. I'll just put it in my bag."

     He made his way over to me, "I need you to give it to me."

     "You're kidding." I said, praying that I was right.

     "You can stop by and pick it up at the end of the day." He held his hand out. I groaned and handed it over. He placed it in his pocket and went back to the front of the class. "Who remembers where we were yesterday?"

     "The Civil War." A boy in the front answered. "Page 248."

     "Right," He pulled a marker out of his pocket and began writing on the board. "Who remembers how the war began?"

     I raised my hand as he turned around. "Mr. Stanford, do you have a question?"

    
     "I know the answer." He looked skeptical, but told me to continue. "It began when the Confederates bombarded Union soldiers at Fort Sumter in April, 1861.  I believe it was the 21st." He looked surprised, but turned and began writing on the board again. "Also, you're writing on the board with my sharpie."

     He looked at his hand, said something under his breath and tried to wipe it away. "Does anyone have a magic eraser?"