Worst Friend, worst enemy
I walk down the packed hallway of my school. As I glance at my watch I see that the time is 8:10. Five minutes until class begins.
“Hey Chris!” Someone calls, my stride quickens. I can’t be late, not today. I search the walls for my locker. Found it! I try my combination on my lock. Nothing. I try it again and again. Then I hear a voice.
“That’s my locker!” The voice is sour, I turn to see Joseph. I hate Joseph.
“Sorry,” I spit as I look up, the locker is 348. Mine is 349. I put my combination in and sigh when it opens. I shove my bag in and pull out my books. It’s 8:13.
I practically sprint down the hallway. I can’t be late.
I get to the door of my english class, it’s then that I realize I grabbed my math books. Now I really do sprint down the hallway. I rip my english books out of my bag and tear through the hallways.
I turn the corner, just down the hallway. Then I’m in class.
The bell rings just before I reach the door. “Late,” My teacher, Mr. Bondar, announces. No, no, no, no! This can’t be happening. “Detention Mr. Lore.”
It is happening. Sixteen years of life and I’m still late for class.
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