"Chalk can't be this heavy!" Paul said, looking at his scale in my fourth period Physical Science class, still one hour before I get to eat lunch. My group, made up of me, of course, Caroline, and Meuy, were already done with the experiment and had put our scales and things we measured away a long time ago.
I sat back in my chair, my right hand holding a pencil, ready to write more of my latest novel; my eyes watched Paul struggle with the scale as his other group members, Eddie and Brandon, I think that's his name, were playing pencils and constantly swearing as the hard wood hit their fingers. After ten minutes, Paul gave up.
"Can I copy off of your paper?" Paul asked me, grabbing at my folder, but the wrong one.
"No." I snatched my folder back from him, containing Geometry homework I did last night and a story I was on the verge of completing. At the same time, Caroline tried to open it, knowing that I had written more of my story. She is my first editor after myself. I shut the folder closed, pinching her fingers between the slots.
"Oww!" She puller her fingers back.
"Sorry." I stuffed the folder and binder into my backpack, realizing I would be out of the classroom in a matter of seconds.
"Are you done?" Mrs. Kean, my science teacher, inquired, strolling over to where I sat, the two inch heels of her black boots made a tough clinking sound as she came closer.
"I am, but they aren't," Meuy replied.
She looked at the three boys and shook her head, picking up scraps of paper on the floor. "Use your time more wisely. And next time, don't play with my slinky," Mrs. Kean said, opening up her hand so Brandon would give her back a small metal slinky, a long piece of wire coiled up into a cylinder.
The bell rang a second after the long hand was on the nine, making a buzzing sound. I got up from the left side of the desk, not wanting to step on Caroline's backpack. "Bye! See you tomorrow!" I knew tomorrow was only a step away. At least it was finally lunch!
"I'm so hungry!" my best friend, Joling said, coming up to my locker. She had just survived through an hour of Geometry with Mr. Smith, a pretty pleasant guy who likes to make jokes, some which I don't understand until he says, "Get it? Hmm, very funny."
To me, every day seems like a big roller coaster. Waiting to get on and when the cart goes uphill, the time seems to move much slower than once you're headed down. Picking up speed, the surroundings go past you in a big blur. Once it stops, you can only look back and see what you've gone through. Then, if you're like me, you would be right back in the long line, a ticket in hand, ready to go through it again. Looking back, I still can't believe I've gone through fourteen years of my life so fast already. Can you?