Blind Squirrels by Jennifer Davis

Olivia called it quits with Jake.  He still
came around sometimes, but it was easier to get rid of him when I didn’t have
to consider Olivia’s feelings.
    Max was around during lunch on
most days, and I noticed him watching me sometimes.  Or maybe he was just
watching my little group have a good time.  He was also developing a lunch
group of his own.  Mason was one member, but the other guys were strangers to
me.  Most of the time, they spent their lunch propping up the auditorium with
their backs and legs.  This put them right in front of our bench and gave me a
clear line of view.
    After lunch, the second half of
English seemed to drag.  Even Mrs. Stokes and her writing assignments couldn’t
compare with the fun we had at lunch.  At least the day would soon be over.
    PE was next.  Olivia wasn’t with
me this year, but one of my old friends from middle school, Samantha Pickern,
was.  Barbara and Becky were also in PE with me.  Mrs. Ray was my teacher.
    Sam and I were best friends in
sixth grade, and she, Laura, and I were best friends in eighth grade.  This was
the first time I had seen her at WMHS, and it was a great reunion.  Sam was
unlike my other friends; most were either a bit on the chunky side or extremely
quiet and shy.  Sam fit into neither of these categories.  She was tall and
thin – although big boned – and she was always outspoken.  Soft blond
highlights dusted her long brown hair which was thick and wavy.  Emerald green
eyes, a slightly pointed nose, and an ample mouth filled her long thin face. 
Freckles dotted her cheeks and sprinkled down onto her shoulders and arms.  I
had adored Sam the first moment I met her in sixth grade, and it was a pleasure
to have her back in my life.  Before long, Sam and I had slipped back into our
old roles.  She was my leader, and I was her follower.  Boss and lackey.  Master
and slave.  She said, “Jump.”  I said, “How high?”
    Mrs. Ray was a middle-aged black
woman.  She was tall – at least six feet tall – and in excellent shape.  I
would learn that she was also a compassionate and understanding person.  In
contrast to all the other PE teachers I had ever known, Mrs. Ray seemed to
realize that an overweight student might have problems in some activities.  She
always credited all who tried, not just the ones who succeeded.  Ones who ran
slowest were paired with ones who ran fastest, affording all teams a chance to
win.  She was truly a woman ahead of her times.
    Geometry.  What a way to end the
day.  Algebra had been my favorite class; now geometry would be my least
favorite.  Proofs, angles, theorems...nothing could be more confusing.  To top
it off, most of the people I knew in that class were also people I detested. 
Please let the bell ring!
    Mr. Parish sat at his desk and
greeted each of us as we entered the room.  He was tall and thin and reminded
me of Stan Laurel of Laurel and Hardy fame.  He liked to teach while sitting at
his desk and he rarely wrote on the chalkboard.  Periodically, he would send
someone else up to the board to write out a problem, and he would only choose
students he really liked.  That left me out.  Sometimes I would just sit and wonder
how he could teach a math class without writing on the board.  He wasn’t easy
to look at either.  He had a pencil thin brown mustache, and he slicked his
thinning reddish brown hair down flat on his head.  His face was long and his
features seemed stretched to fit.  It was impossible to distinguish where his
chest ended and his waist began – he was a veritable beanpole.  His arms were long
and bony, and his fingers looked like long thin peapods.  His legs were so long
that they bent awkwardly in his seat, making me wonder how he could bare to sit
there for any length of time.  But sit he did.
    Eventually I would meet and
befriend several people in this class.  Vivian, a junior, liked me right away. 
She was shy and quiet, but she liked to talk