Nothing seems more important than your first kiss, right? I mean, you picture at as a little kid. Your “prince charming” kissing you under mistle-toe. Or maybe its at a football game, the star of the football team, throwing the winning touchdown. Nothing in the world can top your first kiss. Unless your first kiss hello, is your first kiss goodbye.
It was Monday, 6thperiod. I had English. With Mr. Hendreall. We were by far his worst class, and today he was making our class do oral reports. No normal 10thgrader likes giving oral reports. He made all the other classes give written reports. But not ours.
“Sabrina, would you like to go next?”
I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “Sure.” I said, getting up. My shoelace was untied, just my luck. I stepped on it, stumbled a little, lost my balance, and fell. Right in front of the desk of Michael. Michael. Great. I feel in front of Michael. I looked up. He was trying to hide a smirk.
“Are you okay…umm…uhh,” He stumbled on the words. He didn’t know my name. Not that I expected him to.
“Sabrina.” I said, finishing the sentence for him.
“Yeah, Sabrina. You okay?” He was still suppressing his laughter.
I pushed myself up, regaining what little balance I had. “Yeah, I’m just fine. Like normal.” I noticed my glasses had fallen off my head, and I was on all fours again. I heard someone whisper my name, and someone else say that I looked like a dog. I just rolled my eyes and kept searching on the cold, dirty floor.
“Miss. Sabrina, we don’t have all day. Would you mind hurrying up?” Of course, it was Mr. Hendreall.
“Yeah, Mr. Hendreall. Just, I lost my glasses and I can’t see without them.”
“You should have it memorized by now, you’ve had three days to research your topic, and that’s long enough. Get off your knees, and get to the front of the class.” I nodded quickly, nerveously. I wasn’t going to be able to walk to the front of the class without my glasses, there was no way.
I used Michaels desk to help support me up, and once I was steady on my feet I put my hands out in front of me, like six-year-old would if he had a blindfold on. I hit the podium with my hands, and heard a crunch below my feed. Oh, Lord. I bent down, and felt broken glass. Of course. I stepped on my glasses. I tried to be calm, and walked behind the stand, ready to give my speech about the “Mexican Way of Life.”
“Uhm, well, uhh, most Mexicans are born at home, because of lack of hospitals. And they normally get malnutrished from no food or clean water.” That was about all I’d gotten through before I started feeling my stomach churn. I clutched my abdomen and ran out of the long hallway, hearing people laugh or snicker behind me. I heard others whisper stuff about me, like how short my jeans were, or how ugly I was.
Likes? Comments? Follows? Faves? (: