~From The Class of Catastrophe~

The Race for the Chair of Sanity

Every day I would leave gym class, heading down the hall while my two friends went on: one to the C-Wing and the other went down the stairs halfway through our walk to the B-wing.

It became routine–until I realized that living my math life alone wasn’t a good idea.

Jessica got out closer to the math room, and I wasn’t sure how to beat her to the seat. I knew that I had to get there before her or I would go insane sitting alone the entire year.

I spotted Jessica pushing her way through the mass of students in the hallway. Surging forward with sudden energy, I passed by her in the hallway and left her in the dust (not literally, but you get my meaning). I made it to the door just as Mr. Richards unlocked it, grabbing the seat before Jessica could come in.

After a while, she caught on, and the race began. Sometimes she’d win, sometimes I. Yet she used the dirtiest tricks even I could think of: grabbing my backpack, opening the zippers to make me stop and close them, blocking me from getting past. I was getting tired of it. Funnily enough, only Priskilla’s and Sunerta’s seats remained untouched. If Rhea wasn’t here and the best seat was taken, hers was second to turn to.

One day, as I was approaching the classroom, Jessica pushed past me. I quickly accelerated my pace, not expecting her to have caught up this quickly, and I dashed into the classroom, dropping my bag on the chair. Jessica, sensing defeat, tried to sit down, but I held firm. Annoyed, she lunged across the desk, throwing herself violently onto the wooden surface.

“Jessica, get off before you hurt yourself!” I half-screamed. “”The battle is won. You take Rhea’s seat.”

She jumped into the chair just as Rhea came in. “Aw, Jessica!” she moaned, making her way to the back row. “Why’d you take my seat?”

“Because Ahsina took mine,” Jessica whined. “If she gets out then you can have this seat back.”

“If I were to get out,” I retorted, “I’d take your seat anyway. I’ve had too many lone classes to pass up the opportunity to not work alone.”

She grumbled and dropped her bag next to her seat. “You owe me.”

“No I don’t. First come, first serve.”