Life in High-School

I could hardly wait, three minutes left.  “Last period,” I thought to myself, “Last period, last period!” 

I stared at the clock, seconds feeling like minutes, minutes feeling like hours.  My hand gripping tighter and tighter on my backpack handle.  I heard the teacher say,

“The homework assignment will be page 315 to 322.  The science test will be tomorrow.  And remember to study for the test!”

BRINGGGGGGG!  Finally!  I jump up and run for the door, a herd of kids behind me.

Out in the hall I made for the exit, skateboard in hand.

“Yes!”  I thought as I burst out the door.  Finally I’m free and on my way to practice.  I threw my skateboard on the pavement and hopped on.  I cruised along feeling like a million bucks when some popular kids across the street yelled,

“Hey, Frank!  You gonna flunk this science test too?”

 “Ha!  I haven’t flunked a single test and you know it!”  I yell.

Then all of a sudden I feel stupid.  I may have not flunked a test but I get C’s on just about every test!  Once I got a B and I was crying tears of joy!  I wish I had a better thing to say than ‘I haven’t flunked!’  Oh well.  I’ll forget it all at practice.

I love to play baseball.  I’m number 36 on the high-school Yellow Jackets.  I go to the LA high-school in California.  It’s always sunny in LA so games or practices never get rained out.  I headed home to change into my baseball clothes and then I was off to the field.

When I got to the field my coach greeted me enthusiastically.

 “Hey, Frank, where ya been?  We need our star outfielder!”

Yup, that’s me.  Frank the ‘star’ outfielder.  Sure, I can catch the ball, but I always wanted to play catcher.  Once I almost got enough courage to ask Coach Barlow if I could play catcher, but I chickened out.  I don’t know why, it just felt like my feet were the boss and I was headed in another direction.  I guess I lost my nerve.  Well, I went over to my position in left field and got ready for a pop fly.  Barlow always hits me high pop flys. As the coach makes his rounds, hitting the ball to each position, my thoughts begin to drift.  I start thinking about the science test.