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The fear instilled in me caused my legs to weaken.  I propelled myself out the the car and toward the building.  It was my first day of high school.  I went to homeroom and told the teacher my name.  She told me where to sit and I instantly put my head on my desk.  A girl sat next to me.  I later learned her name was Emma.  She would be in many of my classes for the next four years.  She would get a free ride to UMASS Amherst. 

I went from class to class.  My French class had a great teacher and most of the students in the class were from my tiny middle school.  It was quite the change to go from a middle with less than 200 students to a high school with more than 1000.  Everything seemed so much bigger and everyone seemed so much older.  I told my parents how one boy actually had a beard!  I felt like a lost, little ant in the maze of my backyard. 

When I got to study hall, I overheard an interesting conversation.  Two guys were talking about where to get the best illegal substances.  That year we had police dogs with their policemen search our school for these illegal substances.  This was quite the step up from middle school problems of "She made fun of me so I'm going to make her life hell for an entire year because I'm a bitch."

My last class of the day was English.  This is where I met the teacher that made my freshman year of high school a rather enjoyable experience.  I was convinced I would have a black man as my English teacher, but it was a skinny white woman with the last name of Freedman.  I don't believe I've ever met anybody with more passion for literature.  We had lush discussions about different novels and everyone's preferences.  Of course, there was plenty of playacting when we read Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

I remember how I went through most of my freshman year of high school in a state of fear and anxiety.  That didn't stop me from joining two clubs and the swim team.  Over time, I got more used to everything.  I'll never forget my biology teacher.  He started out with a great first impression.  He told our class that, obviously, boys are smarter than girls and he expected more from the males.  He should see me now in a school full of boys working my ass off to keep up.  My biology teacher ran the science team and I had to join.  I was obsessed with being on the right track to college.  My parents had instilled it in me since sixth grade that I HAD to got to a good college and there really was no other choice possible.  My brother, the math geek, told me to join the math team, which I did.  The people here were actually really nice and geeky.  The team captain ended up attending Harvard.  She's a Schteinbrook; they're meant for Harvard.  Her brother was our valedictorian and was also accepted to Harvard.  I don't think anybody would be capable of delivering a worse valedictorian speech than this Harvard-bound.  It was horrendous.  People in the front row started throwing up.  But, I'm getting ahead of myself, we are still on freshman year.  Where was I? Oh yes, I joined the swim team.  When it came to the swim team, I didn't fit in at all.  I'm not exactly the jock type... to say the least.  I still worked my pretty, little behind off that winter and went to most of the practices and the meets.  With so much swimming and pilates and dance class on Sundays, I became quite the skinny, little bitch.  And by bitch, I mean, tired as hell and worn out all the time.  Let's just say there was no more swim team after freshman year.

Shall we skip to sophomore year?  Sophomore year was AP Euro, English with Doreian, Algebra 2 with Ryan, and HELL.  HELL started around 9 o'clock and lasted for about an hour.  However, this class brought everyone's spirits DOWN TO THE DEPTHS WHERE ONLY SATAN ROAMS.  Any homework and studying that had to be done for this class was done through tears.  Any tests taken in this class felt like someone was beating you with a hammer against your chest.  SATAN or the teacher called this class chemistry.  Somehow, I scraped