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

taking me to the nurse, she stayed the entire time I was in the room.

 

She was nice, everything went great from when we met in the 5th grade.

 

 

We didn't talk much or even said anything, we just exchanged expressions.

 

And when she had that smile, the one with all of her teeth, I knew it was really fate.

 

 

My smile comes back up once i'm on my feet again.

 

I adjust the strap of my backpack before following after Ashley.

 

 

''Come on.'' she says.

 

She pulls me behind her, holding onto my left hand. But i'm too distracted afterwards.

 

I focus on her voice, what she said.

 

 

And the smile on her face.

 

Once I give out on the trance, Ashley stops. Letting me follow behind quietly.

 

She scans the area, looking at the dim lighted school and students rushing around.

 

 

Everyone, for the first real 3 years of theie life, was rushing against that moment.

 

6th graders, new and proud.

 

 

You can pick them out because they look young, like babies.

 

Full backpacks, fresh face with makeup and lip gloss.

 

Glasses and sneakers that don't match.

 

 

Then onto the 7th graders. For this, me and Ashley have to turn our heads, looking left.

 

 

Much older, better experience and they even appear smarter.

 

You can tell their older because, they have better style, amd more things to carry around. 

 

And phones, tons of them.

 

 

All while Ashley carries her ipod, and me,...nothing.

 

Then moving forward to the ultimate ones, the inevitable 8th graders.

 

 

Their gigantic, huge I might say.

 

They have more things to do, spending their time working and all for just the last year.

 

 

When graduation hits, the curfew gets bumped up a few more earlier hours after summer.

 

And then they offcially become teenagers, entering the next worst 4 years of their lives.

 

 

I was however, looking forward to my wonderful 8th grade year, filled with memories.

 

And hope.

 

 

''Ashely Hope Bass, I think were officially 6th graders.'' I said making a small turn.

 

 

I circled around looking at our school in my thoughts for a second as my smile grew wider.

 

This was it, the 1st year i'd offcially grown up.

 

 

In just 3 years, the music will be too loud.

 

And if it's too loud,...than that means i'm too old.

 

--

 

Months before the accident....

 

 

In that time period, we stopped just like that.

 

And when that thought was brought up again, I couldn't help but let my pencil slip out of my fingers.

 

 

Mr. Elliot made us do an assignment on the scarlet red letter, it's suppose to be due the last week of september.

 

I wasn't ready for sure.

 

 

I kept thinking about record store boy, I placed my palm underneath my chin so I could look up ahead.

 

Mr. Elliot probably won't notice for a while, so I had time to daydream for a bit.

 

 

And boy, the timing was great right now.

 

I couldn't help but smile anytime i'd come across record store boy.

 

 

Of course with my new found hobby, I spent my recent afternoons going up and down the tables at the record store. Sneaking a few glances at record store boy.

 

 

Even though he worked behind the counter, I still found a way to attract his eyes to me.

 

I was helpless, invisible, practically innocent.

 

 

Just a regular ol' person shopping for some records. But in the past few days i've been there, not one single vinyl or record left in my hands.

 

 

I was there for the enjoyment. To see him.

 

I'd take several guesses on his name but couldn't find the right match.

 

 

I liked the idea of Adam, the record store boy. Or Chris, record store boy.

 

I could come up with names that easy. But none of them stuck around.

 

 

Until the one day, when I overheard a conversation between record store boy, and a couple friends.

 

The word Tyler, came out and I couldn't stop myself from there.

 

 

He was Tyler, the record store boy.

 

The one who's mysterious and oddly nice, I might guess.

 

Although I don't really know him. The last time we both saw each other was when I had that old gum stuck to my hand.

 

 

It was disgusting, but the moment was great.

 

He had no idea who I was, or what I had in mind.

 

 

Just two local strangers, roaming the halls of Bree Woods Middle School.

 

It was kinda like that for us.

 

 

He'd exchanged smiles, i'd lower my head and push the frame of my glasses up on my nose again.

 

Silent flirting I call it, nobody knows for sure. And that's the fun part of it.

 

 

And as that thought subsides, I picked up my pencil finally.

 

A big grin on my face as I continued on with a small paragraph on the scarlet red letter.

 

 

While I finished up a sentence, I couldn't help but stop every few words.

 

Something else was grabbing my attention, it wasn't my thoughts this time.

 

 

 

It was Ashley. I could tell she was looking at me. With that bright hot pink jacket she wears all the time.

 

In fact, i've never seen her wear anything other than that jacket this whole week.

 

 

I'm beginning to think it's her way of reminding me of something.

 

Having to do with the color, or the attention.

 

 

Either way, I stop in my tracks of writing and think about the mystery.

 

The fun, and clues Ashley keeps dropping me.

 

I can never seem to figure it out. Why she never talks or tells me anything.

 

 

But with the looks, the constant changing that happens, i'm pretty sure it was all one big reveal.

 

Moon Flower

 

Sometimes you see things, and you keep quiet about them.

 

No one can tell, unless you spill.

 

 

The truth is, the school is inevitable.

 

The friends, toxic. Relationships, toxic.

 

 

Everything in Bree Woods Middle School.

 

Toxic.

 

t-o-x-i-c

 

I was beginning to think it was true, nobody seemed trustworthy in this school.

 

 

Even with the girl who leans on her haunted locker.

 

 

Who writes rules under her name, calling them, The Guide to Living Throughout The Worst 3 Years Of Your Life.

 

Starring: Alex Carter.

 

 

I mean, I could be a superstar for coming up with this tremendous idea.

 

But all hell has fallen down.

 

I'm stuck on the 7th one.

 

 

 

# 7. Sometimes you wish you could be 25, with your life figured out and everything in hands. But if the music is too loud, then you're too old.

 

  

The bell rings leaving me to head off downstairs today. For 1st period, I have English.

 

Which was one of my most boring classes until Tyler got transferred into it.

 

 

My smile rose up on my face as I thought about it, my hair falling behind me.

 

The ends were thin and poofy, like I just rolled out of room with high humidty.

 

 

 

But I don't care, I just down my way through the stairs. Walking down several hallways with white walls until I reached my destination.

 

 

I had to admit, anytime i'd stept foot in the room, I was nervous.

 

I barely said anything or even spoke to Tyler.

 

 

It's the middle of October and I still haven't made up my mind.

 

Days, weeks,...maybe even a month since we've seen each other.

 

 

It was hopeless, I needed to say something some time soon. Otherwise my glasses would be the center of attention.

 

And I hated that the most.

 

 

Sliding into my chair, Ms. Swisher comes in dressed up nice as always.

 

 

The usual shiny gloss bun, the cashmere sweaters and black skirts.

 

You know, the ones that look the same, but you can't tell the difference.

  

 

But enough about that, I was still focused on Tyler.

 

What to say and how to introduce myself.

 

 

And sadly, I somehow ended up guilting myself out of it.

 

It wasn't worth it, even when I thought about it long and hard at lunch.

 

 

The red apple I thought would bring me luck, didn't seem to work.

 

And even in Ms. Paul's counseler class, my mind was focused on Tyler.

 

 

So much, I didn't think about Ashley.

 

 

When she came in, giving a note to Ms. Paul, I couldn't help but stare.

 

Dropping the usual, hand underneath the chin move I do when I think.

 

 

Her fresh blonde hair, fading into the room as Ms. Paul starts to read it.

 

She looks down at it for a while before Ashley takes it as a sign to disappear.

 

 

She doesn't even make eye contact with anybody, she just moves her way to the door and leaves.

 

And sadly enough, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her.

 

 

The sad look on her face.

 

The colorless lips that won't smile anymore.

 

 

And then I think back to the time I last saw her smile.

 

At the school dance, in november. 6th grade year, when we never spoke again properly.

 

 

It was a sad night I kept thinking about, all the way into the next year.

 

The lifeless look on her face.

 

 

The pale eyes that no longer looked brown.

 

And mine, without another spark.

 

 

 

I went back and forth on the idea. Make a connection with Ashley, or find something else with Tyler.

 

2 things I couldn't juggle with after school.

 

 

Even when I snuck into the pantry at home and ate a bunch of cheez-it's.

 

Stuffing each cracker into my mouth, I thought about how to do it.

 

 

I'm home alone, all by myself.

 

I couldn't have possibly run out of ideas.

 

 

So when it comes to the point, when i'm on the kitchen floor stuffing crackers into my mouth in my clothes from earlier.

 

I shop.

 

 

Reluctanctly, I pick myself up from the kitchen floor. Placing my cheez-it's on the counter than sliding my shoes on at the door.

 

 

I checked my pockets once I shut the door behind me.

 

I had a dollar, probably enough to buy a candy bar.

 

But I had a better plan, like always.

 

 

Taking a step after another, I walk down the sidewalk from my house nearing into the neighborhood.

 

It's a silent afternoon as I trot down to the 7/11.

 

 

It was the main place I went to in times of need, or maybe even an idea.

 

Mom and Dad would search for me down there when  threw a tantrum.

 

 

They always seemed to find me by the big slushie machine. Specifically filling up a jumbo cup with the red cherry flavor.

 

 

My head would be on the counter, laying on my arm.

 

And the other holding the cup.

 

 

Mom would have a concerning smile on my face, and Dad would pay the cashier for my slushie afterwards.

 

That time, everything seemed better.

 

 

And still to this day, I don't know why I always went back to that 7/11.

 

But I just had a feeling.

 

 

And when I opened the door, into the bad lighting and humorous smell, I felt at home.

 

Despite the lack of company.

 

 

I had the slushie to thank you.

 

The one with all the other choices I never liked, except for the red cherry.

 

The milky way bars I always stare at endlessy before reluctantly leaving.

 

 

So when I filled up that jumbo cup, the one with the yellow and blue swirl design.

 

I knew it wouldn't turn out like how I expected.

 

 

Even minutes into laying my head down, staring at the full drink through my thick glasses, I knew they weren't coming to rescue me.

 

 

Mom didn't show up with that smile I always loved to see on her face.

 

Dad with the closed lip and furious look, but confirming that I was okay when he offered to pay for my slushie.

 

 

It was all gone, while I stared at the jumbo cup overfill with the red cherry flavor I loved.

 

Then, I lift myself up. Leaving the cup. 

 

 

Continuing over to the milky way bars, and the other choices I never seem to focus on.

 

And when my fingers touched the outside wrapper, I knew mom was not there to stop me.

 

 

She didn't have control over me anymore.

 

I felt reckless, like iIwas a lonely wall flower in need of help.

 

 

But i'm not longer the