I Didn’t Know It Was You

I'm the girl who is always lost in the world of a good and amazing book. Reading is my form of escape from the very real world known as America. But to me whenever I read all of my worries go away especially my very grumpy English Literature teacher Mr.Fitzwilliam. I don't even understand his problem when he became my eleventh-grade high school teacher, he always looked in a sour mood, always glaring at everyone, especially me for that matter. I don't even understand his issue. Who made him so sour? Maybe his girlfriend cheated on him because he's so cruel. I'm trying to forget about him and return to the real world of being a senior at North Ridge High School.

North Ridge High School is a very large school housing maybe around a thousand or more. I really liked that environment because I was so invisible in the public eye. My only friend is Katherine McDonald. We've been friends since elementary school. My favorite classes were clearly English Literature, Government, Math (even if I didn't understand the bloody subject). Yes, I focus on my classes and do my homework like a good student. Yes, you could say I'm the teacher's pet, but not to Mr. Fitzwilliam. I'm certainly not. I stop daydreaming and pay attention to the current situation of almost being late to class, which isn't such a good thing; I'll be dead meat. I rush downstairs spotting my parents talking to one another and my younger brother Robbie eating cereal.

When I enter the kitchen my parents state, "Seriously Anne Marie? I thought you were already at school. I don't want you being late anymore to Mr.Fitzwilliam's classes." I nod my head in understanding." I'm going to drop you off while your dad drops off Robbie at the elementary school. Tomorrow I better hope you're prepared." My mom has always been this way since I could always remember. My mom loathes tardiness.

We both walk to our Honda. I sit in the passenger seat while my mom is driving on the highway. I admire the fall leaves of orange and yellow. Nature is very beautiful. I love admiring the trees and how God created this beautiful universe all those years ago. I stop my daydreaming when my mom interrupts my thoughts.

"Honey, we're here." I look down at my iPhone displaying the time. 8:30am. I'm only twenty minutes late. How is Mr.Fitzwilliam going to react?