Tuesday, September 25

Ugh. All I can say is that I hate my life. Whenever I turn in the hallway, whack! A drink hits my shirt, and trickles down into places you don't even want to know. It's become part of my day: get papers thrown at me on the bus at 8:15, trip while getting off the bus at 8:27,get bullied at 8:30, get a swirlie at 8:57,and finally, get a drink thrown at me at 9:00. One thing I have to say about bullies, despite common stereotypes, is that they are punctual boogers.

Anyways, you are reading my new journal. Last year, after shredding my previous one, I realized, when I become famous, people can see how hard life was for me. People can see who Eleanor James has become, and instantly become envious. Book after book I'll publish and people will put try life into perspective. But sadly, that dream awaits.

Ding! Hands in the air, clothes all wet and gooey, I make my way to English class, ignoring the snickers and giggles directed toward me. I entered the room, and was immediately faced with the hardest part of my day: finding a seat. I looked for a seat in every column, but everyone just made up some lame excuse. I passed the nerds,  "Studies show that students facing an outcast in class slows their thinking by zero-point-zero-nine percent, " the sweater vest geek said to me. "It would be the best interest for both of us if you didn't sit here."
The hippies. "Dude, peace on Earth can't happen with you sitting next to me." The cheerleaders who just giggled when I passed them on my way to the back of the classroom. I plopped myself into a chair, exerting a sigh. "OMG. Look at the weirdo behind me Kelsey. She's like, tots hideous." I have to say, everything you hear about cheerleaders, being brats and all, are true. Future advice, always ignore the brats.

And then, something happened that day that turned my world upside down. Right before the bell rang, Michael Carmack entered the room. It's as if his presence woke the room. The nerds and hippies became friendly, and the cheerleaders became very flirty.

November 1, 2015

    I got good news, and some bad news. So, I got a 100% on my math test! That's the highest score in the class! But the problem is, now I'll be more of a laughingstock at school than I already am. No loser is dumb enough to score the highest grade in the class; it makes them stand out even more than their horrible reputation already does. I already hear my name being chattered throughout the classroom. Uh oh. I just got myself a bonus reward for my smartness; free slushies! And, they will be grape, my favorite! And, they stain and leave you as a disastrous mess afterwards.....

"Shawn and Liz," the teacher says, to my horror. Oh no! A group project! The utmost worst type of project where you do all the work and your partner makes fun of you as you do so. It sucks even more when I'm put in a group project. You carry the load of the whole group and project, and when the teacher asks if your partner contributed, you say yes. Always. They manipulate you into carrying the whole load, and then take all the credit. It's not fair, but me being me, I'm fine with no credit. My grades are all 100%, and my GPA is unreal. People are jealous on how smart I am. “Michael and Ellie,” the teacher announces. Ellie, the most popular girl in school, coated in makeup and bling, starts stroking Micheal’s arm. “We’ll have so much fun!” She squeals. Michael turns away, looking disgusted. The teacher turns back toward the class, “Oh, I mean Eleanor. Eleanor and Michael.” Ellie turns toward me, looking shocked and frustrated. Michael turns toward me, and leans across the aisle. “Well, partner, let’s get a good grade on this project.” He smiles and all my smartness disappears. The bell rings, and I immediately get up. Little did I know, I should have confronted the teacher for a group change. Instead, my life went on a journey of twists and turns.