One School Day by Zoe Zhang (drm ebook reader .TXT) 📕

/> “Count me in, too.” Kerry spoke up. He put a hand on my shoulder. I smiled, knowing that he knew what Abby was trying to say.
“Count you in what?” Abby asked. Kerry and I only smirked. She shrugged. “Whatever. You guys must be getting something that I’m not.”
“BRRRRRRRRRRRM” WTDB (I’m getting tired of it!)

“Yummy,” I murmured. “Lunch.” I licked my lips, slurping up the instant ramen that Okaa-san had packed for me, after putting some seasoning in it. Shrimp flavor. Mmm, my favorite.
We were sitting outside the bike racks, once again, except with only a couple more people sitting with us. Safa stared enviously at my cup of ramen, only to look back down to his greasy pile of so-called pizza, with only a carton of chocolate milk and croutons to accompany it. I still don’t see why he won’t get some of the healthy cafeteria food. I mean, really, there are salads, apples, oranges, tacos, burritos, and all that good stuff. But of all things, he picks the original day-by-day pepperoni pizza. Bleh.
While Kerry was busy watching Richard and Carter play basketball, munching on a couple of (healthy) carrot sticks, Rika and Abby were currently having a Rock Paper Scissors game over a bag of Cheetos that Kerry had absently abandoned and purposely left up for grabs. So far the score was 0 to 0, each “Rock”, “Paper”, or Scissors” was a tie, which I thought was impossible. I shook my head when Safa dared to go any closer to my little box of Mochi Ice Cream, which I had been saving for all of my friends at the end of lunch.
“Aha!” Rika cried, pumping her fist in the air. “I win! I’m the official champ!” Abby just stared, disbelieving.
“Um, that’s…that’s not fair, I mean… you could have… erm, cheated…” Abby stuttered and stumbled over her words.
But Rika just ignored her protests and started munching on the Cheetos. She held one on front of my nose. “Want?” she offered, her fingers already orange from the cheesy chips. I hastily finished my ramen and threw it away to grab the Cheeto happily.
“What about me?” Safa whined, cupping his hand under the bag. Rika just shook her head.
“Nah, you get what you deserve: a really bad lunch.” Rika winced, peering at the half-eaten piece of grease. She made a face, and turned to offer a Cheeto to the defeated “champion.” Abby also took it eagerly.
“WOOHOO! Go CT!!!” Kerry cheered on, and the four of us adjusted ourselves so we could see the current game that was playing. Obviously, Carter had just scored the winning point, because Carter’s team was crowding around him, giving him pats, thumps, high-fives, and all those good game comments. It was plain sickening.
Everybody was clapping politely, but I knew that everyone was thinking the same thing as I was.
What a show off…

“BRRRRRRRRRRM” WTDB (I think I liked it better when the bell was broken, if you ask me)
I had given everybody the already melting Mochi (Green Tea, since they all hated Sesame Mochi and Red Bean Mochi) and they were devouring like their sweet tooth had grown a fraction sweeter. But I wasn’t all that surprised. Now with all the studying for future spring exams, parents had lowered their junk food store.
Everybody quickly swallowed their Mochi, said their good-byes, and left for their next period. Rika went to band, Abby left for Industrial Tech, Kerry left for Drama, and Safa and I ran to Home Ec. What fun.
“I’m first!” I cried, pulling down the handle to Room 150 and wrenching the door open. Safa shoved me into the classroom, and I sat down at my table.
Out of ALL the electives, I had to choose Home Ec. And I was stuck with my full time, everlasting, ugly being, all time evil (I seriously think you get the point) enemy. Whom was also known as Mari.
“BRRRRRRRRRRRM” WTDB (*yawn* Omigod, this is getting tiresome…)

“Class, -sniff- since my son -sniff- is unable to -sniff- substitute for me, -sniff- I have to remain teaching, while sick.” Mr. Pike spoke in a muffled voice, and then coughed loudly. He opened his mouth to start a new sentence, but ended up squeaking. I winced at the gesture, and actually felt sorry for the old man. Life was tough for him.
He had caught a cold during winter, and he was stuck with it during this spring, too. He had gotten his son to substitute for him several times when Mr. Pike started acting up, and so Ms. Mallor, Mr. Pike’s cousin, would call up a sub for her too while she went to take care of him. She was one of the few people who actually cared for him. It seemed like these were one of the days when he just couldn’t stay home and get a sub, because I had heard that his son had recently married and moved to Chicago. Mr. Pike was pretty short. Sure, he’s a few inches taller than I am, but I’m only 5’1’’ (life sucks for short people like him and me).
Mr. Pike, despite his condition, continued the period as usual (with a few sneezes, coughs, and wheezes excepted). By the end of period, I was tasting burnt muffins (Safa was cooking, IF you couldn’t tell) and hot milk Kim didn’t have any cooking skills, and “accidentally” placed the carton of milk in the microwave for 1 minute) and I had thrown the rest of my food away. At least Nickolai did a good job on measuring the ingredients and I washed the dishes…okay. I swear I will NEVER eat Safa’s cooking again. I think he added raisins and too much sugar in the bowl. They were supposed to be CHOCOLATECHIP muffins, for crying out loud!
“Thank you class -sniff- for cleaning up and -sniff- baking wonderful things.” Mr. Pike said unenthusiastically, eyeing the pile of mashed muffins in the garbage can. Safa and Kim blushed and smiled sheepishly. Charlie and Mari, who were at the table next to mine, smirked and snickered. Things would never change.
“And class is- WA-CHOO!!”
“BRRRRRRRRRRRM” WTDB (…)

“Poor Mr. Pike.” I said, shaking my head sympathetically.
“Well, that’s more than I could say about the old fart.” Abby complimented, shifting her trumpet music book under her arm as we both walked to our music room.
“Akira, you don’t really feel sorry for him, do you?” Abby asked, handing me my flute case while I was opening the door for both of us to come in. Abby ran in and ran back out with her trumpet in hand.
“Thanks,” she called as she was running (or walking as fast as possible to prevent herself from dropping the humongous instrument). “Say hi to Kerry for me!” was her last request before she disappeared behind the other door. I nodded to myself, and stepped in to my classroom.
“Hi, Kerry. Abby says hi.” I waved to my friend as I passed him. He nodded back and smiled, putting together his clarinet. I continued to walk to the back of the room, next to Jessica. She grinned at me, and I smiled back. I didn’t know Jessica very well, though I knew she wasn’t the talkative type. She rarely said anything to me unless it was a “hi” or a comment on our homework for music class. How Amber the chatterbox happened to be one of her best friends, I have no idea. But life is just weird that way.
Mrs. Johansson suddenly walked into the room and took out her clarinet. When nobody noticed her, she started playing “Pink Panther” loudly on her clarinet. Everybody immediately stopped what he or she were doing and turned towards her. She smiled and took out her clarinet book. The clarinets did their warm ups, and we flute players just talked. Although I don’t know the point of talking at all when probably the most interesting thing that Jessica would have to say to me was how warm the weather was.
You know, I’ll just spare the details of how bored I am. I mean, really, it’s music class. Nothing interesting happened (except that Kerry happened to get the best score on his Theory test), and again, it’s music class. I spend the whole period playing the flute (badly) and ignore Jessica’s coldness the whole time. She’s pretty hard to ignore, though.

“BRRRRRRRRRRRM” (…) Can you not tell that I’m totally tired of TDB?
“I’m…” I started, until Kerry glared. “Uh, We’re free!!!” I whooped out loud right after the bell rang. I wasn’t embarrassed because other students started doing it too. What a day!
Before I could jump out of my seat with my flute, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I quickly turned around, angry at whoever stopped my escape for the door. But I reeled back instead when I saw it was Jessica who had wanted my attention. I scratched my chin sheepishly and smiled.
“Do you need something, Jessica?” I asked. She nodded, and thrust a piece of paper in my face. I thought that was rather rude, but took it hesitatingly. I read it. I swung my head up to her.
“You’re hosting a party?” I asked, aghast. Jessica wasn’t the kind to throw flings, much less school parties.
Jessica hastily shook her head. “From Amber. She wants you to come, and you can bring any of your friends, too. It’s tonight, and don’t worry, it’s from 5 to 8pm. Amber understands that everyone got an equal amount of homework to do.” She paused, as if wondering if I was listening at all. “Will you attend?” she asked meekly.
I nodded politely. “Thanks for telling me. Tell Amber thanks, and tell her I’m also bringing Kerry and Abby with me.” She affirmed this with a nod, and we departed, me running to my locker as fast as I could, and Jessica was um, strutting toward Kim and Amber, who were stepping out of the string section.
“Hey, guys,” I greeted my friends with a casual wave and I unlocked my locker with ease. I stuffed my music book and flute case inside my purple and blue-checkered backpack (with a picture of a stitched on Kakashi patch; not that you need to know who he is), and I took out my new Chococat like cell phone to speed dial my mom.
“Okaa?” I asked, when I heard the familiar formal greeting that Okaa-san’s company, Google. “Hey, I was wondering if you or Otou could pick me and the gang, oh, maybe around 4 o’clock...? Really? You would? Thanks, Okaa. Okay, we’ll see you then. Ja!” I shut the phone with a goodbye. And glanced uneasily at Abby and Kerry when they glared at me. I closed my locker shut and slowly turned around.
“What?” was my oh-so-smart reply.
“Why do I have the feeling that you made some sort of appointment without concerning ourselves first?” Kerry mused, staring at me with a lot of intensity. I gulped, but it didn’t stop there.
“Yeah, and this being one of the 14 times you’ve done this, I assume you have a proper excuse?” Abby queried, and I then noticed they were imitating (more like mocking) like the British and how they spoke. I waved my hand aside.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you got me. I’ll tell you,” I said. I pulled them all the way to the CARKA library. I said hi to Mrs. Gourd the librarian, and walked to the back of the room, where they had previously removed one of the shelves (and moving it to the other side of the room) and replaced the spot with a comfy, worn out red couch. I let them sit on either