The Bucket List by N. Y. (classic books for 11 year olds .txt) 📕

past or future.

 

We grew apart.

 

 

She became, little miss popular when we stopped hanging out.

 

Ashley even dressed differently.

 

 

While I became, little miss not so popular without a friend.

 

 

I saw her mostly at the mall buying expensive clothes and makeup to show off to her friends.

 

Something we used to do.

 

 

But instead of buying makeup for fun, it was more important than just playing around with it.

 

 

I'd question myself why she would do that, it wasn't for her at all.

 

Although her group of friends question why she dyes her hair diferent colors every month, Ashley just says it's the new trend to come in the future.

 

 

They all ignore that excuse every time and never talk about why she dyes it.

 

But I know the real reason why she does.

 

 

She wished she was a different kid, an alien like me.

 

She dreamed of belonging to something else other than her mother.

 

 

It was our secret.

 

And now that she chose a new hair color, it got even more real after we both started 6th grade.

 

Our friendship was broken before December.

 

 

Back then, she would smile to me in the hallways.

 

 

But then as the worst 3 years of our lives passed, it grew more eery and quiet between us.

 

Nothing happened anymore. No connection or even stopping to see each other.

 

 

She grew up and I kind of didn't.

 

 

My thoughts are interuppted as the class remains quiet and a couple of a kid's yawns ring through the air.

 

 

By the time I look up and realized how long I had been thinking, Ashley had already taken her seat looking forward to Mr. Elliot.

 

And I silently look back at her.

 

 

Ashley doesn't break eye contact with Mr. Elliot.

 

 

Reluctantly, I turn back to him, who was awfully quiet for a long time.

 

He checks something on his desk then looks up to me again.

 

 

''Nice job.'' Mr. Elliot says to me.

 

''As always.'' Ashley says.

 

''Welcome back Carter.'' says a boy, sharpening his pencil.

 

 

He rolls his fingers on the handle of the wall sharper. It grills into the air.

 

I smiled a little, even for being long gone everyone still remembered and knew me so well.

 

 

Mr. Elliot knew that I would answer the question if no one did.

 

Ashley knew she would eventually say something out loud referring to me.

 

And the kid who always comes to class with an unsharpened pencil, would respond saying my last name.

 

 

It's crazy how well the school could remember or welcome back a student who almost died.

 

A kid who went through a coma.

 

 

I slump down in my desk as Mr. Elliot continues to teach class.

 

We all sat silent for a long period.

 

 

And my day pretty much went like that. Class to, class and more classes.

 

I went through Social Studies, Science and....finally I landed in Math.

 

After it, i'd have Art, which I loved.

 

 

But back to Math, it was one of the worst classes i've ever taken in my life.

 

I hated it so much.

 

I sucked and never grew out of getting better.

 

 

 

My teachers worried if i'd improve, but I never really did.

 

They just found a way to pass me for the year.

 

Then the school would inform mom about my failing grade and of course, i'd get after school help.

 

 

And when U couldn't figure out the problem i'd burst into tears, it felt so hard to do.

 

Even though it was so simple.

 

 

But luckily I had help from the past week.

 

Nurse Nenny taught me about patient results added from numbers, during my days awake in the hospital.

 

 

She helped me muiltiply and come up with answers for other patients who need their numbers added.

 

I'd get a few wrong but she'd correct me.

 

 

And with that feeling I was hoping i'd feel better.

 

But nothing worked.

 

 

The bell rings as I enter in with students. Mrs. Grande turns to face us as we all take our seats.

 

I dart my eyes looking around the room.

 

 

It looked more open and lively than before or maybe it's because I disappeared for 2 months and forgot everything.

 

 

''Okay class get out your pencils, we're taking a practice test. It won't be graded but it will still have points for effort. Be sure to write your name at the top of the page and the period.'' she says.

 

 

She casually passes out single sheets for everyone. I scan the room then break from it to find my pencil.

 

I picked up the dirty but old good working pencil I had since before the accident in my backpack.

 

 

It sharpened really well but it was a really bad quality to use.

 

 

Mrs. Grande finally comes around to my row of tables, as I wait silently.

 

She looks down a little surprised as if I had been in the room today. I turn away from the slightly embarassing second.

 

 

It bothered me when i'd see people stare out of the corner of my eye or even when I suspect someone's staring.

  

I look forward as she places the paper in front of me.

 

 

''Begin now, then turn it in to me when your done. 15 minutes and counting.'' she replies, walking to her desk.

 

 

The time starts ticking as I look down to my paper.

 

The problems seemed easy. Of course to everyone else.

 

 

I had spent 2 months of my life in deep sleep.

 

I didn't know anything.

 

 

The numbers and signs danced around in my head as I tried to focus.

 

My pencil finally lands on the sheet as I try to answer.

 

 

I felt my brain start to flood with different answers.

 

It didn't seem right.

 

 

And for 15 minutes, it went by so fast.

 

My hands slam down on the desk gently as I tried to think of something.

 

 

It was frustrating, everyone would get their points and I wouldn't.

 

 

It gave me a slight scary feeling as I answered a couple problems. It didn't seem good enough at all, and it was simple multiplication.

 

 

Nothing too hard to read.

 

 

''Time's up.'' Mrs. Grande says.

 

My head raises up at her voice.

 

 

''Time's up already?'' I whispered.

 

 

Students get up with small smiles on their faces, as if they all rubbed it in.

 

I sucked at math and they didn't.

 

 

I tried to hide the embarassed feeling into my jean jacket sleeve. But I knew I had to eventually get up and turn it in.

 

I slowly rise out of my seat, as my pencil rolls down on my desk.

 

 

I turn to the door just seconds away on my left. I thought of just making a run for it.

 

To get out, be free.

 

But I can't just leave and not come back.

 

 

I had to face my fears, headstrong.

 

 

I swallow the pity feeling and grip at the paper.

 

My nails left marks and dents into the paper. I thought I was screwed for sure.

 

 

I near Mrs. Grande's desk as she sorts other student's papers.

 

I was nervous just thinking of what to say.

 

Hey, I failed to answer most of the questions. But i'm back!

 

 

That didn't seem right.

 

Finally i'm close enough to her desk as she looks up. My glasses hit the frame as she looks into my eyes.

 

''Here.'' I said silently.

 

 

She takes the paper as if I knew there was no problem. That made me feel a little better.

 

But as I turn back to my desk with no other answer, she calls on me.

 

 

''Hey, Alex.'' Mrs. Grande says.

 

 

I turn to her without a thought, there was no time to overthink.

 

 

''I'd like to talk about your answers.'' she says loud enough.

 

Some of the boys and girls in the class turn their heads at her voice and some just socialize in their time, not even noticing.

 

I turn back completely to her as I make the nervous walk back over to her desk again.

 

 

''Yes?'' I reply softly.

 

Her eyes dart up from the paper full of my answers, I played with my fingers as I wait for her to say something.

 

 

''You seem to have about 4 answers out of 20, and all of them are wrong.'' she says.

 

 

I sighed for a second as I tried to answer, but nothing came out of my mouth.

 

 

Mrs. Grande finally places the paper down and leans on her desk to reach my eye level.

 

Her glasses brim into mine as we both stare for a second.

 

 

''Is everything fine at home, are you getting enough practice on math?'' she asks.

 

''Yes.'' I quickly answered.

 

 

She leans back up with no intention of asking another question.

 

There was no way i'm saying I don't do anything, I was in the hospital for 2 months.

 

 

Does she think everything's fine? She doesn't know my life at home.

 

 

She barely even notices me in class, even when my hand is raised for 2 minutes straight.

 

And when she's concerned about why I can't get a good grade, mom comes into the picture.

 

 

But this time, she's not here and there's nothing I can do about it.

 

 

''Well, I suggest staying after school for help. I'll be here this afternoon, we can get things done in time.'' she says.

 

 

I nod my head with no answer from my mouth. Then she speaks again before I can exit.

 

 

''Are you sure you're fine? Cause I haven't seen you around school for a long time. In fact, I haven't seen your mom at any of our past parent-teacher conferences.'' she asks

 

 

My eyes widen a little, my mouth opens for a second.

 

''She's just a very busy person, but I can gurantee you i'm fine.'' I replied.

 

 

My hands wrap behind me as I tried to smile for Mrs. Grande.

 

But O can tell she was catching on.

 

I couldn't lie for long, and eventually the spell would be broken.

 

 

''Tell me the truth, Alex.'' she says slowly.

 

 

She leans her left arm onto the desk, listening. I look down pushing my glasses into place.

 

And finally when I had the courage, I look up again trying to say something.

 

 

What was I suppose to say, tell her i'm failing math and not doing my work because I almost died.

 

I couldn't tell her that. It was none of her business.

 

 

But I did need someone to listen to me, or even ask why I was gone.

 

 

None of my teachers even pondered on the thought why was I gone for so long.

 

And no one questioned my haircut.

 

 

It seemed as if fate finally fell into place, and I couldn't escape that chance.

 

I needed to tell someone.

 

 

I take a deep breath trying to find my words.

 

 

''I was in the hospital, getting recovered.'' I finally replied.

 

 

Mrs. Grande's face and body stood frozen for a second.

 

As I suspected, a certain response to my answer.

 

 

Freaking out, or worse.

 

An apology.

 

 

Mrs. Grande whips her glasses right off her face. Resting her left palm onto her forehead.

 

''Alex,...i'm so-..sorry.'' she says.

 

 

I sighed before answering, the nerves had calmed down from before.

 

I felt confident just saying anything now.

 

 

Mrs. Grande places her glasses back on, getting a clear look at me.

 

Resting her hands under her chin.

 

 

''It's okay, things just happen.'' I reply.

 

''For 2 months?'' she replies.

 

 

My small confidence had dropped. I didn't expect such a response like that.

 

She didn't believe me after that brief moment.

 

 

And just like that, the people of Bree Woods Middle School had lived long and proud.

 

And they left me behind.

 

 

''I was in the ICU, in recovery. From the accident.'' I reminded her.

 

Mrs. Grande finally breaks from her small trance and stares down at my paper.

 

There's no response for a second.

 

 

''Just sit down, i'll handle this.'' she finally responds.

 

 

I turn on my heel making my way back to my desk.

 

I felt a little mad she didn't believe me.

 

 

The people here were horrible at hearing news.

 

 

I expected her to just ignore my answers on the test and just give me a good grade.

 

I was expecting she'd say sorry and let me sleep in class if I needed to.

 

 

But, it went back to normal.

 

 

And as I struggle to keep my footing, I sat in my chair.

 

 

Whispers go around in the room as everyone else talks.

 

I'm left in the dead quiet with my arms placed on the cold desk of where I sat in the classroom.

 

 

My eyes shift over to 2 boys sitting next to me, they whisper something I couldn't hear.

 

I look forward to make sure they couldn't see I was eavesdropping.

 

 

''Hey..'' says one of the boys.

 

 

He was sitting at the desk next to me on my right.

 

My head slowly turns to him.

 

  

He's quiet for a second.

 

 

I had recognize him from before. He used to pick on me 2 years ago, about how I wore the same shoes to school everyday.

 

Even on picture day.

 

 

But something overall changed about