Beeswax

School doesn't work the way it does on TV. You don't have enormous gaps between classes, and all of the teachers are not either amazingly cool or belonging in a mental hospital.Sure, a school might be full of the dumbest sports players ever, the nerdiest nerds that will someday rule the world, and that blonde cheerleader who will be a mom at 16, but it's the people in the middle of those groups that you really have to look out for. There's groups in school, don't try to deny it. Somewhere where you think you fit in. Maybe you've jumped ship on a few groups, maybe you've stuck with the same one since Middle School. Whatever your story is, I'm sure you call all relate to this one: the person who wants to know where you're at and when, why you're there, and who you're with. Admit it, you know someone like that.
"Hey, Sam, I saw you in the guidance office today." I turn around, finding Pamela standing about five inches from me. I nod, still in my early-hour fog. I keep walking, not looking to see if she's following me or not. "Why were you there?" She's walking next to me, her huge brown eyes staring at me expectantly. Well, both of my parents died from drinking. Or, My friend is going to commit suicide. Maybe, Because people who pretend to be my friends ask me seriously intruding questions and I'm falling into depression. I shrug. Maybe we should stick to the truth here. "Just stuff." I turn a corner, headed to biology. Pamela is still glued to my side like a Labrador begging for a biscuit. "What kind of stuff?" I resist the urge to yell, "Stay out of my friggin' beeswax! Get a life already!" But, that isn't socially acceptable, so I settled on, "Nothing important." I can see my classroom. Freedom is only a few yards away. "I won't tell anyone." She insists, still walking hurriedly next to me. Right, you'll only tell anyone who will listen and announce it on facebook. Not too many people, just five-hundred students, give or take. I stop suddenly in front of my class. "I wasn't doing anything in guidance, OK? I had to ask a question about gym for next year. That's it." Pamela squints her eyes at me, half-depressed and half-hoping I'm lying. Before she can say anything, I've disappeared into my classroom.