It was freezing this morning. I delayed leaving the safety of my blankets as long as possible before making my daring plunge into the frosty air of my bedroom. It must have been fifty degrees. Which isn't that cold, I know, but considering there were highs in the upper nineties a few short days ago, it felt practically arctic.
The rainclouds of yesterday had departed by the time the sun rose, golden and autumny, over the valley, painting the tree-covered hills yellow-bronze. But it had not risen high enough, by the time I walked to the bus stop, to cast its warm light on my street, so I waited, shivering, wearing a coat, a scarf, and a hat, for my knight in rusty, yellow-and-black armor to rescue me from my suffering and whisk me off to school.
As I got off the bus, I saw N. walking by with K. (the girl from choir who I've mentioned before), heading for the theatre lobby.
I ran to catch up. "N.! Do you remember what the Anatomy homework was?"
A shadow of panicked comprehension crossed his face. Good, so I wasn't the only one who'd forgotten to write it down.
"I completely forgot we had any," he admitted, frowning.
"Yeah, I remember him mentioning something about homework, but I couldn't find anything in my binder," I said.
He considered this. "Well...we could go and ask him."
"That sounds like a plan."
We bid goodbye to K. and walked quickly to Mr. M.'s fishbowl-room. The lights were off and the teacher wasn't there.
N. squinted through the glass. "Mr. M.!" he whined. "Whyyy?"
"Now what?" I wondered.
"I guess we could go in and wait for him...?"
He tested the door. It was locked. We exchanged glances of perplexed desperation.
Then N. looked through the window once more. "Aha!" he exclaimed, pointing. "There! It's still written on the board!"
Chapter 2 chemistry review, questions 1-9.
"I," N. declared, "am going to text that to myself." Without further ado, he took out a red phone--not his iPhone, a different one--and scrolled through the contact list. "Now, I think...yes, I did list myself as 'Me.'"
What that kid needs with two cellphones is beyond me.
Once the pertinent information had been recorded by whatever means available, we departed from the fishbowl classroom, in the direction of the fishbowl lobby. I parted ways with him at the next intersection.
"See you later, I guess."
"Yeah...and thanks, by the way," he added. "For reminding me."
I then went to the library to finish my Econ homework.
In Choir, we rearranged our standing order again. Our director, whom we know by her first name, H., had each section come down one at a time in front of the risers so she could see what the best way to fit our voices together would be.
Basses were up first, J., J., and K. -- In fact, since I know I'm going to encounter this problem again, I'm going to number the J.'s-from-choir. J1 is a junior, smallish and thin, with black hair. He also happens to be N.'s boyfriend. J2, on the other hand, is a freshman, also smallish and thin, but with light brown hair. K, by the way, is a senior, and is significantly taller than both of the J.'s. I hope this will be easier to follow now.
Anyway, H. had them arrange themselves in several different orders and sing part of a scale before settling on one particular order, which happened to be, from left to right: J1, J2, K.
"Let's try something now," she instructed them at this point. "In order, say, 'Hi, my name is...' just in your normal speaking voice."
"Hi, my name is J.," said J1.
"Hi, my name is J.," said J2, his voice noticeably lower than J1's.
"Hi, my name is K.," said K. His voice was a bit lower than J2's.
"That's interesting," remarked H., turning to the rest of the choir. "Whose was the highest?"
This needed no verbal reply, as J1 immediately broke into a fit of laughter, cuing everybody else to follow.
The tenors were arranged next, and then it was the alto's turn. H. went through the same routine with us, but since we had more people, it was a more complicated endeavor.
"Hi, my name is C.," said I, when my turn came.
She studied me a moment. "You know, C., sometimes your voice is a bit higher than that when you talk normally. Say this: 'Oh my gosh, I saw a mouse!'"
"Oh my gosh, I saw a mouse!" I obliged, then basked in the laughter of my fellow choir-members.
On my way out of the choir room after class, I made one of my collection of creepy faces at K.-the-soprano (not to be confused, of course, with K. the bass). J2 noticed, smirked unsettlingly at me, and soon we were engaged in a creepy-smile-contest, which he won by flicking his tongue to the corner of his mouth suggestively, making me laugh.
In Econ, we took notes on the three 'Great Economists'--Adam Smith, Karl Marx, and John Meynard Keynes. Smith's book, The Wealth of Nations, was published in 1776, the same year, said Mr. S, "as the constitution was written."
I'm sorry, but the constitution was definitely not written in 1776. That was the Declaration of Independence. It would be an excusable slip, except that Mr. S. happens to also be an American Studies teacher.
I am SO DONE with Mr. S.
I am SO DONE with Econ.
We had been instructed to bring in 3-7 items to trade for our next activity. I traded a one-dollar frozen yogurt gift certificate for three packages of Wonka's Bottlecaps, and then gave up two of the three packets in exchange for a Werther's Original. I had eaten them all by the end of class.
During lunch was a student tutor meeting in Mrs. A.'s room. There were cookies. I had two. Or maybe three.
In Spanish, we went to the computer lab to take an ungraded assessment, which turned out to take longer than Señora R. had anticipated. I only finished half of it before the end of the period.
And then to Anatomy.
N. asked me if I knew about the new iPhone update. I replied that I did.
"Well," he said, "I tried to download it during first period this morning, and it...stopped. So I tried again during second period, and it...stopped again. So I tried to download it again, during my Out period, and it was working, but then...the bell rang. So I left it there, you know...put a few books on top of it. So I'm going to have to run and get it at...2:05."
Well. Someone was excited.
We numbered off and broke into groups to work on a worksheet. I was in group 9, with two other girls. We couldn't for the life of us think of the eight necessary life functions.
A few desks away from us, N. jumped, looked at the clock, and bolted from the room, having pre-arranged his errand with Mr. M. at the beginning of class. He was late, apparently. I watched with mild interest as his rapidly departing figure jogged past the fishbowl windows toward the theatre building. Then I returned to the worksheet.
We had reconvened to go over the answers by the time N. came back. He slid into the desk next to me, mouthing the words "OS 7," and grinning broadly.
The first opportunity he had, he whipped out his phone to show me. I studied the screen, adorned with the image of J1's smiling face, and observed that the icons did indeed look a bit different. But I really couldn't see what the big deal was.
"Cool," I said, bemused.
We were given time to study some more before the end of class. N. produced a stack of flashcards and proceeded to quiz me. There seemed to be a double of the card entitled "lumbar"--until, that is, N. glanced at the back of the second one and pressed his lips together tightly to keep from laughing. He turned the card around so I could see.
There, printed neatly in the center of the card, was a single word: "Moose."
I cracked up, and he broke. We laughed uncontrollably for a good couple minutes, setting each other off again whenever there was a lull. Upon recovering sufficiently, N. added a parenthetical note to the front of the index card. "Vertebra."
On the bus home from school, I sat near A., and we discussed letters of recommendation, senior projects and all the other things that we knew we had to accomplish but didn't know how or by when.
While I ate dinner with my family, a daring raccoon came up onto our back deck to eat grapes from the arbor, providing the evening entertainment.
To tie this evening to this morning...Oh my gosh, I saw a coon!
...and a moose, too. Musn't forget that.