Greg and I walked down the hallways of Perry Township High School. He was headed for room 307, and I was going to room 102. The two rooms were on opposite sides of the building, but since Greg and I came from the same classroom first period, we walked down the same hallway until its end, where we split.

Every twenty seconds as we ambled side-by-side down that hall, Greg shook his black hair that grew three quarters of the way down his neck out of his eyes. He needed a haircut.

I noticed the short stack of books he held easily at his side with one hand, then looked at my seemingly huge pile that I held to my chest. I always wondered how almost all the boys in the high school carried their books like he did. And how they were able to get through each class with so little books. We only went to our lockers before homeroom, between third and fourth period, before, and after lunch. Which made it even more strange. Either that or I had nothing better to think of during school.

This morning, we didn't talk at all, which was strange and different from most mornings, when we usually babbled and laughed about whatever we felt like babbling and laughing about. Not today.

We got to the end of the hall. "Seeya Alison," he called over the normal racket of the high school hallway.

"Bye Greg," I replied over my shoulder.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!