The JerkMature

So school's coming up and who doesn't like a bit of drama? Well maybe this year ya'll can save that for the books and not at your school. One more week and I'll be back. Hope you enjoy this little exercise I started just to get back into writing.

C'mon, please don't let her be in my class. Please, please, please. I scanned the rows of desks. Phew, nowhere in sight. Alright then, three classes down. A pretty good first day of eighth grade, I'll say.

"Oh my gosh, Emma Styler!"


I put on my best "I hate you" fake smile and turned around.

"Hi, Courtney," recalling the stupid nickname she'd given me, I pointed out, "It's Emily."

"Of course it is, Emma. Oh my god, we have a class together! How great is that?"

My smile stiffened. "So...great!"

See, the thing about Courtney is I absolutely can't stand her. Not for the usual reasons, like she's annoying or gossips a lot or even has bad breath. It's more of a combination of all of those besides the bad breath. In elementary school, she'd somehow got to liking my presence or whatever and tried to hang around me. I'm all for making friends but this girl was such...a girl. She'd make up rumors about me and the next day invite me to come over. She would be so nosy and when I confronted her about pretty much anything, she'd cry like I was the jerk. Eventually, Jase and I just started to stay away from her.

Every so often, however, she shows up and acts as if we're the best of friends. Like today, of course, because of all days, the first day back to the old cell is perfect.

I thought third period would be great. It's yearbook for crying out loud. I've been in it for two years now. I'm editor-in-chief, this year would've been amazing. Up until Courtney says,

"Emma, why are you sitting over there? We're like three rows apart," she gestured towards her seat in the back.

I didn't even want her to be on the same planet as I yet she wants me to sit with her? There was still a minute until class started.  I could do this. Emily, just keep a straight face and act as if you would want to sit with her but can't.

"Sorry," I half whispered, gesturing to the row I was seated, "I really want to sit in the front."

Thirty seconds, yes! Now she won't annoy me here. It'll be okay. It'll all be okay. I got this under control.


Plop went her butt to the chair directly next to me.

Plop went my fist to her face in my mind.

Plop went the whole ideal school year of mine.

"Oh, that's okay. I'll just move here."

Plop went my life.



The End

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