You frantically snooze the buzzing alarm set for 4:56 am precisely. The cold and dry air of the bedroom doesn’t help either, as you cozy up under the sheets, scrolling on your phone to regain consciousness. Your eyes flutter and fight to drift into an eternal summer break kind of slumber. Before you make a decision you decide to look towards your dresser and to your disbelief, don’t see a neatly folded outfit! That’s motivation enough to get you up and ready to take on the day. Jumping up to your feet turns out to be painless, but a chilly breeze from some unknown source settles in and you half-heartedly reach for a warm pair of socks. You surely wouldn’t be caught dead wearing those inside school.
You’re all ready and, frankly, super proud of your comfy attire for the school day…or at least part of it. It was understood that your plan to escape the Chapter 37 APUSH test would require some deft maneuvering. But, when stepping off the bus you’re overtaken by a knot in your stomach as you realize your appearance is much less than stellar! The undone braid begins to slip off and a coffee stain on your crewneck is progressively becoming more obvious. You look down in shame and catch a glimpse of those same fuzzy snowflake socks you had on in the morning. Today’s going to be such a long three periods.
It was time to take a few careful steps to your friend group’s morning meet-up spot; the corner of JPS that’s intersected by the exit door and a rodent trap. After minutes pass, it becomes apparent that your friends are nowhere to be found. Panicking slightly, you pull out your phone and pretend to make a concerned phone call to one of them, just to let your imaginary audience know that you are in fact not a loner.
The first setback occurs in your uncomfortably quiet first-period class where you have been coldly told by the teacher that you are marked absent for the school day. She asks the customary: “well, were you late to homeroom?” You have no reason to disagree and let her know that her suspicion is correct. She shakes her head in disapproval and hands you that one makeshift office pass glued onto a whiteboard. Swinging the pass around maintaining a forcibly nonchalant appearance, you head towards the attendance office. You begin to rehearse the lines you plan to use to justify your tardiness, however your heavy concentration is broken right when you crash into the heavy wooden doors. You let out a quick yelp but choose to struggle into the office before one of the security guards could come to your rescue. The pulsing pain in your shoulder remains a harsh symbol of the fun start to your day.
In Physical Education, the attempt to blend in with the rest of your lazy peers fails horribly as you choose to straddle a bit too much to the right. That’s when it hits you: you still have on your Tasman Uggs rather than “proper athletic attire.” From your teacher’s disapproving gaze, you can already picture the deduction of points from your spotless A+.
Navigating the hallways proves to be a challenge as you squeeze through its cracks and dodge friends peddling candy grams while trying to remain inconspicuous. Before heading to your final class, the period 3 classroom, you take a detour to your sanctuary known as the “good A-wing bathroom”. You let out a sigh of relief, only to have it shattered by the sound of someone entering, absorbed in a seemingly important phone call. The poor girl was clearly upset about getting “wrongly” caught in a hall sweep. Desperate to occupy yourself and ignore the awkward energy, you turn on the hand dryer, inadvertently drowning out her conversation with the loud whirring and earning yourself a dirty look from the venting teen. Honestly, it offends you for a quick second, but you can’t help but sigh in gratitude that you aren’t in her position.
As the end of third period approaches, you nervously await the announcement of your early dismissal on the intercom, coming to bail you out from thinking about the Dust Bowl and FDR’s presidency. Finally, hearing a screech on the intercom that you make out to be a “please pick-up”, your heart sinks as you realize it’s not about you but rather the usual class skipper being sent home. With the bell signaling the end of the period, you try to use the deep breathing techniques that were taught to you in the 5th grade in order to brace yourself for the dreaded APUSH test. Your elaborate plan to escape had failed, and all for what?
