Teens School Day Life

A hand on my shoulder gently shakes me awake. I struggle with my eyelids, and when they finally open, I see my dad with an urgent look on his face. Its 7:26, he say s, and I sit up to show that I’m awake. My dad, satisfied, rushes downstairs. With him gone, I fall back on my soft, warm pillow, and tell myself, 2 more minutes. Just 2. From downstairs, I vaguely hear my mother asking if I’m up yet. The words don’t penetrate my grogginess, and seconds later, I’m asleep again.

My eyes snap open to the sound of my mother’s yells at me, and when I glance at the clock, I feel all the tiredness evaporate, only to be replaced by panic. Its 7:40. How could fourteen minutes pass in what seemed like 2 seconds? I pull a brush through my hair and pull on a t-shirt and jeans. It’s too late to glance in the mirror, despite the fact that I know I probably look like medusa.  

My multi-tasking skills could be envied, as I grab a slice of bread to chomp on and cram for that day’s science test, all while stuffing my other books and binder and homework papers into my already heavy backpack. I finish my bread in time to see my car-pool pull up by the curb, and rush out the door, answering my mother’s “good-bye” and “have a nice day” with a wave.

It’s ten minutes to school, and on the road, my car-pool friend and I complain about last night’s homework, while comparing notes for the test. We reach school with a minute to spare and my friend and I get to the courtyard to greet friends.

The bell rings and it’s a mad rush to get to class, everyone stopping by lockers and most slipping into classrooms just before the bell shrieks. First period is PE, and the girls in my locker room row and I groan about the “oh-so-harsh” weather, running the mile, and share morning horror stories. PE is always a pain, but like every other day, I make it through. Even though next period is math, I can’t help but feel relief as I step out of the locker room.

Math is as tedious as usual, with the teacher droning on and on about 30 60 90 triangles. The bell sounds, and over the pandemonium of the locker rush, he announces the test next week. Everyone groans heartily and hustle on to our next classes.

For me, its English, my best subject. It passes in an easy blur, and before I know it, the bell sounds again, and it’s time for Yearbook. I step inside the classroom, and it’s like a whole different world in there. Editors are rushing computer to computer, group to group. Each student is working on a different spread (page), and those who aren’t on computers are busy checking photos or writing copies (articles). The deadline is next week so almost everyone is feeling rushed. It only feels like a couple minutes have passed, but suddenly, it’s time for the next class again. Our advisor shouts out reminders as we go out the door, responded with “ ‘kays” and various “good byes”.

5th and 6th period are history and science. During History, the clock seems to slow down so dramatically; it would’ve been funny if it weren’t so boring. Science is rather mind-numbing, being the hardest subject for me.

Finally, the final bell of the day rings, and students burst out of classrooms, already talking or texting on their phones. There’s a stampede to the bus area, while other students amble home. My mom’s car is waiting as usual by the trees across the street.

During the ride home, and after telling her about my day, I think about it myself. My day, that is. All of my school days are the same; each one follows the same routine. In general, it’s a very boring life, but it’s the little things like the “OMGs” with friends, and the “embarrassing family outings” that make life good. The car’s engine hums softly as my mom parks it in the driveway, and I think, even though school is boring, and my hair never lies flat, “Being a teenager is pretty cool.”