"The second I stepped into History class, I knew something was up.There was a nagging feeling that something was wrong that I couldn't ignore. At first I thought that it was some pre-knowledge of a seat change, or of Mrs. Taryn deciding that it was time for some 'fun.' But, after looking at the chalkboard in the front of the room that was filled with notes on the Phoenicians, I realized that that wasn't the case. Seat changes called for a projector in the front of the room, and 'fun' called for . . . well, for things other than notes on a board.
Still, the feeling would not go away.
My eyes devoured the room, searching for something that was off. They rickety desks had remained the same since my last visit there on Wednesday, placed in neat little rows. My seat, decorated with someone's lame drawings of a person getting stabbed by a bunny rabbit, remained where it had been all year: smack in the middle of the room.
But, as my eyes latched on to the students who occupied the seats, I realized why I was feeling the way I was: Alton Demers was sitting in the desk placed next to mine.
- A story about a mother forcing her daughter into a fashion show
- Tracie must rely on Alton to help her win the fashion show
- Posted and being updated
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