Alyson

Today, I can switch out of AP U.S. History. I made the decision over summer, when I realized that I had, once again, piled my plate too high with delectable AP and IB classes. If there is one subject that is my subject, it’s U.S. History, *flicks ponytail and turns head to admire the gleaming U.S. History plaque from 8th grade.* (1 of 2, might I mention). Unfortunately, on the account that there are only 24 hours in each day, and that I sometimes try to live three lives at once, this A.P. U.S. History endeavor was really a mission impossible.

I don’t like walking across the front of classrooms, but I am able to reach my teacher’s desk in approximately 4 strides, schedule change form in hand. Mr. C is a very adorable, older-middle-aged storyteller. His hair is gray, and so are his shorts, Volcom polo, and Vans. Cool guy. I really liked him, and that only made it harder to leave his class for the OG’s in *gulp* regular U.S. History.

“Like, don’t be offended or anything. I really like your class, but I decided over summer…”
Some grunting on his end. I look out the window, assuming he will just sign the dang thing. Wrong.
“Where do you want to go to college?” he shoots point-blank.
Well if it isn’t my gosh darn favorite question.
“An art school.”
So daring.
He goes on to tell me that it’s good that I am aiming at an art school, since I could NEVER get into a UC school if I didn’t take AP U.S. HISTORY.
WTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTF?
I make a bunch of noises, mostly involuntary.
Here comes…
“JUST SAYIN.’”
I retreat far away to the other side of the classroom and listen to him talk intensely about corn for another 40-minute period of my life.
And then I remember it’s the last time I have to hear him analyze corn. ♦