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Thursday, Mr. Gerio’s class again.
      I’ve got a page full of notes next to me, since we’re supposed to get ready for our test tomorrow by taking notes on Chapter 9, Sections 1-4.  As always, I just copied the key points at the ends of the chapter, then scanned my way through each section.  Works every time-for me, anyway.
     Yasmine is right next to me, but she’s scooted her chair more to the end of the table, away from me.  She’s always taken notes the same way as me, and it looks like she’s now quickly looking over each section.  Her dark, dark brown hair is out long, and she’s straightened it.  Snug navy jeans sit on her waist, with a v-neck, tight, hot pink shirt on.  Yasmine also has on gold eye shadow, which goes great with her dark eyes and a coat of lip gloss over her pouty lips.  She looks good-and she knows it, too.  Me, I feel like a piece of crap sitting next to her.  My boring, light brown hair, is tied back into a messy pony, and I’ve got on Sharon’s old, faded jeans-but my shirt is actually my own.  It’s plain gray, and Mom got it at a bargain store-three colored shirts for five dollars.  One for me, one for Sharon, and one for Trisha.  Isaac hadn’t gotten one-but it’s not like he cared, he practically wears the same shirt everyday.
     Franky met me at my locker this morning.  I have no idea how he found out what locker number I am, but I didn’t ask or anything, that would be rude.
     “Hey, Carly,” he had said.  I turned around and smiled.  “Hi, Franky.”
     “What’s your next class?”
     “Mr. Gerio.” I rolled my eyes and sighed, taking out my social studies book and notebook.  “Ugh.  He’s so boring.”
     Franky chuckled.  “I don’t have him until third period.  Once I actually feel asleep in his class.”
     “Really?”  I shut my locker door, then turned to him and laughed.  “For some reason I’m not too surprised.”
    He smiled.  “Well, I have to get to class.  See you at lunch?”
    Smiling back, I nodded.  “Yep.  See you at lunch."
     I was a bit late for Mr. Gerio’s class, but it’s not like I was in trouble, and he didn’t even notice me sneak in the back.  I had just sat down and placed my books on the table when he called out “Carly Mitchell?” for attendance.
     “Here,” I called out.  I felt Yasmine look me over, and from the corner of her eyes I saw her roll her eyes.
     I sighed, turning my book to the page number on the board.  I am not going to let Yasmine ruin my day, I told myself.  I will not let Yasmine ruin my day.
     The bell for second period is ringing.  At least Yasmine’s not in my English class.

=( (Sad) — Description
Thursday, Mr. Gerio’s class again.
      I’ve got a page full of notes next to me, since we’re supposed to get ready for our test tomorrow by taking notes on Chapter 9, Sections 1-4.  As always, I just copied the key points at the ends of the chapter, then scanned my way through each section.  Works every time-for me, anyway.
     Yasmine is right next to me, but she’s scooted her chair more to the end of the table, away from me.  She’s always taken notes the same way as me, and it looks like she’s now quickly looking over each section.  Her dark, dark brown hair is out long, and she’s straightened it.  Snug navy jeans sit on her waist, with a v-neck, tight, hot pink shirt on.  Yasmine also has on gold eye shadow, which goes great with her dark eyes and a coat of lip gloss over her pouty lips.  She looks good-and she knows it, too.  Me, I feel like a piece of crap sitting next to her.  My boring, light brown hair, is tied back into a messy pony, and I’ve got on Sharon’s old, faded jeans-but my shirt is actually my own.  It’s plain gray, and Mom got it at a bargain store-three colored shirts for five dollars.  One for me, one for Sharon, and one for Trisha.  Isaac hadn’t gotten one-but it’s not like he cared, he practically wears the same shirt everyday.
     Franky met me at my locker this morning.  I have no idea how he found out what locker number I am, but I didn’t ask or anything, that would be rude.
     “Hey, Carly,” he had said.  I turned around and smiled.  “Hi, Franky.”
     “What’s your next class?”
     “Mr. Gerio.” I rolled my eyes and sighed, taking out my social studies book and notebook.  “Ugh.  He’s so boring.”
     Franky chuckled.  “I don’t have him until third period.  Once I actually feel asleep in his class.”
     “Really?”  I shut my locker door, then turned to him and laughed.  “For some reason I’m not too surprised.”
    He smiled.  “Well, I have to get to class.  See you at lunch?”
    Smiling back, I nodded.  “Yep.  See you at lunch."
     I was a bit late for Mr. Gerio’s class, but it’s not like I was in trouble, and he didn’t even notice me sneak in the back.  I had just sat down and placed my books on the table when he called out “Carly Mitchell?” for attendance.
     “Here,” I called out.  I felt Yasmine look me over, and from the corner of her eyes I saw her roll her eyes.
     I sighed, turning my book to the page number on the board.  I am not going to let Yasmine ruin my day, I told myself.  I will not let Yasmine ruin my day.
     The bell for second period is ringing.  At least Yasmine’s not in my English class.