16 Reasons My Life Sucks, Sara Walker [ereader that reads to you .TXT] 📗

the class laughed. I rolled my eyes, hating every
person in the room just for living. Why was I forced to attend this school,
filled and run by morons, when I could be home sleeping?
Mr. Mallow finally found someone to answer his question (the kid got it
wrong) and continued the problem, droning on and on.
I checked the clock again. Yes, only a few more minutes!
Just seconds before the bell, while reaching down for my backpack, the
P.A. system crackled. “Attention students of Luddermor High, especially those
that auditioned for this year’s school play. The cast list will be posted outside
of Dr. Livingston’s office after first period. Thank you.”
The entire class began to talk at once. All I did was wince. Erica had tried
out for the lead role. And I knew, without a doubt, that she had got it. I
glanced over at Sally Merkerson, the girl who had actually written the play this
year. Her face was glowing with pride. Ugh, whatever.
The school plays at Luddermor were never actual plays by people that are
actually playwrights. Every year Dr. Livingston (the scary performing arts
director) goes around to all of the English classes, asking kids to try writing a
play.
Most kids just ignore him and continue what they had been doing.
But Sally Merkerson is a total FREAK about writing. When most people
didn’t even write a play she wrote FIVE. FIVE! And I thought I was a loser.
But then one of Sally’s scripts got picked and now it was going to be the
school play.
The bell rang and I raced out of Mallow’s class. There had to be some
kind of law against forcing us students to listen to the guy for an hour. It was
truly cruel and unusual punishment. I mean, what did I ever do in my past life?
I hadn’t been paying attention to what I had been doing and ran straight
into my next door neighbor Matt. “Whoa, Reynolds,” he told me.
Matt has lived next door to me since I was born (same for him). So when
we were younger our parents (his Mom and Dad and my Mom; they’re like
best friends) pretty much forced us into being best friends. It IS kind of
annoying when the hottest junior at Luddermor has seen you in your pajamas
and watched you pick food out of your teeth with floss.
But the weird thing is that Matt only calls ME Reynolds. He calls Erica
Erica and he calls my mom either Mrs. Reynolds or Mrs. R.
But I’m Reynolds, like I don’t even have a first name (not that I want it,
but hey).
I pushed Matt out of my way and continued on.
“Ow, where’s the fire?” Matt called after me, but I was already past him.
My next period was Spanish. That was probably the most useless class
ever invented by man. Why the hell do I need to know Spanish? Yeah, okay,
maybe if I lived in Texas or California or some other highly populated
Hispanic area. But I live in Upstate NEW YORK!
I was half way to my classroom when Beth ran to my side, all excited.
“They posted the cast list!” She was all excited.
I nodded, confused. “So?”
Beth rolled her eyes and gave me a “Duh” look. “Don’t you remember last
week when I told you I had a doctor’s appointment?”
“Um, yeah. You said that you had to have a physical.” I still looked at her
funny until I realized that the “doctor appointment” was her excuse. She had
actually auditioned for it.
For some reason, Beth thinks I’m completely against the theater. I’m not
really. I’m just against any production that includes my sister, singing, dancing
Lindsay Lohan or Hilary Duff. My god, I hate them.
“Okay, well, let’s go to the performing arts room.”
Apparently I was on acid because I was still confused. “Why?”
“To see if I made the cast list, stupid. The announcement said it was
outside Dr. Livingston’s office.”
I shrugged and we headed for the P.A. room. I had three minutes until I
had to be in Spanish, and thankfully the P.A. room was on the way.
We pushed through the crowd outside of the room to see if Beth’s name
was on the list. She was shaking with excitement. For the first time I found
myself really hoping someone I knew would be the play. Normally, having
someone I knew in the play (ahem, Erica) meant I’d have to see it. But if Beth
was in it, I’d definitely see it.
I pushed some foreign kid out of the way so I was in front of the list. I
think he swore at me in Russian, or wherever he was from. I didn’t care. No,
I’m not one of those “ignorant” people. He was just in my way. Anyway, I
looked over the list. The first name I spotted was Matt’s. He was the lead guy.
I didn’t even know that he liked acting. He was more of a jock (he played
Varsity basketball). Whatever.
I searched the list twice, looking for Beth Sanders, but it wasn’t there. I
turned back, pushing the foreign kid out of my way again. Beth looked at me
with this extreme look of sadness. “I’m sorry, Beth.”
I thought I saw a tear form in her eye but she blinked it back and smiled.
“Well, at least your sister got the lead role.”
“WHAT!” I turned back and saw Erica Reynolds at the top. Great, I
thought to myself. Not only do I have to see it, listen to it, probably help with
rehearsals AN D see my best friend cry because she didn’t make it.
It meant Matt would be coming over to my house even MORE than usual.
Ugh.
The cafeteria of Luddermor High is a disgrace to the collective
intelligence of mankind. It is a horrid, waste of a room. And the food is the
least of its problems.
The tables are randomly splayed around the room and the chairs are old
classroom chairs that are either broken or are missing the back rest.
So Beth and I ignore the cafeteria and go straight to the library instead.
It’s quiet and I don’t have to listen to the seniors picking on the freshmen.
“I’m fine really…” Beth said, ripping a piece of paper out of her math
notebook.
“I didn’t even know you where into acting and stuff.” I took a bite of my
peanut butter sandwich. It was against the rules to have food in the library, but
the librarians were cool and employed a “I don’t see it, it’s not there” policy. I
also had a bag of Bugles.
“Well, I’m not psycho about it, but I wanted to try. You know, see if I was
any good.”
“And?”
“And what?” She began to fold the paper in half the long way.
I was finishing my history homework, which was due next period. I’m
probably the laziest person alive: I either do my homework during lunch or in
the morning before school. I very rarely do homework at night.
My pen was running out of ink. Great, my last black pen. I reached down
to grab another one from my back pack. “And… are you any good?”
“I don’t know. My opinion would be biased.” She reached across to grab a
Bugle from my bag.
I snatched the pen and caught her in the act. “Hey!”
“I’m hungry.” She popped it in her mouth and smiled. “So, Erica and Matt
are lead? That should be interesting.”
“You have no idea. Five bucks says they’ll pull me into the whole thing
somehow.” She nodded in agreement and folded the edge of the folded paper
into a triangle. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Paper football.”
“Um, why?” I guessed my strangeness had some how rubbed off on my
best friend. Sorry Beth.
“Why not?” She made the last fold and tucked the flapping piece under
the other fold. Then she set it up so that it was ready to be flicked.
Instinctively, I pulled my two pointer fingers together and formed the
goal. She flicked it over my fingers. We played paper football all the time, so
we were both pretty good at it.
“What’s the play about, anyway?” My turn to flick it at Beth.
“I don’t know. Aren’t you in Mallow’s class with Sally?” Flick.
“Um, I don’t talk to Erica-wannabes.” Flick, Bugle. “How don’t you
know what it’s about? Didn’t you AUDITION for it?”
I guessed I had gotten kind of loud because the librarian “Shhh-ed” us.
“Sorry,” we said response.
Beth turned back and continued. “Yeah, well, they didn’t have us use the
actual script when we auditioned. We read from some script called “Wait Until
Dark”. It was about some blind woman.”
“Oh.” It was Beth’s turn to flick.it. She got it in position, aimed, but hit it
in the wrong spot. It went flying higher than expected and poked me in the
eye.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Kate!” I covered my eye with my hand, biting back the
words I wished I could have yelled. It hurt like a bitch.
“I’m fine,” I told her, wiping away the tears that had came when the paper
poked me.
The librarian “Shhh-ed” us again, and I pulled my hand away from my
eye.
“Kate, do you have food?” The librarian asked.
I quickly shoved my sandwich bag (I had finished it) in my backpack,
along with the half full Bugles bag.
“No,” I told her, smiling. Sometimes my charm (ha, that’s a laugh)
worked on her. Not today.
“Beth, Kate, you know the rules. I’m going to have to ask that you leave.”
I rolled my eyes and Beth sighed good naturedly. We stood and pushed in
our chairs and left the library.
“Sorry,” I told Beth once out.
“There’s only a minute left of lunch anyway.” We started down the hall to
history (we were in the same class).
Beth had to stop at her locker, and I waited for her. Unfortunately, Matt
walked up next to me. “Hey, Reynolds.”
I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t you needed in the lunchroom?” I asked him,
seriously hoping he’d go away.
“Nope.” He smiled. Matt Schroeder has a PERFECT smile.
I sighed, hoping he’d get the message. “Do you enjoy annoying me?”
“Yep.”
The bell rang and the halls filled with bored kids, waiting to get home. A
couple of basketball players called out to Matt. “Schroeder! Get your ass over
here!”
“Gotta go,” Matt said, smiling again. He began to walk away, and I turned
back to Beth, who was finishing in her locker.
“Hey Reynolds!” Matt called, loud enough for everyone to hear. I rolled
eyes.
“What?”
“You have peanut butter on your jeans.” And then he left.
I glanced down to see a smear of my peanut butter sandwich across the
side of my left pant leg. Lovely.
I ran to the bathroom, with Beth in hot pursuit. Once in, I grabbed a paper
towel and rubbed off as much as I could. “God, he’s such a jerk.”
“Kate, if he’d been a REAL jerk he wouldn’t have said anything at all.”
She had a point.
But god, he was annoying.

REASON 2: MY FAMILY IS PSYCHO

I went home later that day, after sitting through history, English and
chemistry (which, by the way, I totally failed that test Beth and I were
studying for), among other pointless courses. As I hopped off the bus I
noticed my mom’s car in the garage. This struck me strange because my
mom’s an English teacher from the middle school. I swear I’m the only kid in
Luddermor High that knows the difference between “good” and well”.
When I was in middle school I actually had my mother as a teacher. There
had