It’s 72 degrees outside and instead of staring out into the ocean,  I  am stuck in an old dirty classroom. With cluttered papers surrounding my desk, and the smell of fresh shaved pencils.   The sound of the clock ticking in the background. The smell of worn down eraser shavings.  The mild taste of sweaty misty air coming from the gym next store. A piece of paper I wish I never touch is now in front of me, with a fat F on the top.  This is me in my 9th period class at  SCHOOL!
“My parents are going to kill me,” Sarah, my best friend, proclaimed with a ominous looking face.  She looked really worried. 
“Tell me about it,” I replied with a worried tone in my voice, while my nervous foot rapidly tapped the ground.  I know my parents would not actually threaten to kill me, but I guess it is just the thing parents say.
As I walk into my house, I hear my parent whispering in the living room about something.  Do they know?   What is going to happen to me?  What if my teacher emailed,... or CALLED my mom to talk to her.  I always thought Mrs. Hoover didn’t like me.  I never saw her as a teacher, she was never organized nor nice.  I am sure that she is just taking her anger off on us from her weight watchers diet that she obviously doesn’t follow.
“Mom, Dad… I don’t know how to say this but, I got a F on my last science test, and I need you to sign it,” I managed to mutter out while I had their full attention.
Their faces were opposite of anything I thought was coming.  Their faces were almost in disbelief.  They look at me like I had 10 heads.  Did they think I was lying, or not care about my grade?
“It’s ok, everyone gets a bad grade once or twice. I know you are a great student, so one step back is ok. But don’t make this a everyday thing, you hear?”  she told me with a serious looking face as she began to give me a welcoming smile.
It took me awhile to say something, but eventually I forced out, “Yes… um… okay, sure. Can you sign it?”  I didn’t mean to be forceful.  I just don’t want to stand here and get a speech from my parents about grades.  I handed them the test.  Watching them actually see the F on their own was like seeing the first cell phone ever, and being in disbelief that that it is what people had to use.  Eventually, they signed it, handed it back to me, and told me to sit down to talk.  I knew that this wasn’t going to good.
    “How is school going?” my mom finally broke the silence, with quiet force after what felt like an hour of waiting for someone to talk.
    “Okay, some classes are getting harder as I get further into the year so, yeah,” I answered in a raspy tone, like i had to cough. 
    “Do you think someone is making you have a difficult time, or depressed… possibly a bully?” my dad exclaimed as my mom looked at him like he said it to soon.
    “ No, why would you think this?  Because of my grades… I am just having a hard time, nothing to do with anything, okay?!”
“Okay, okay, okay. We are just worried about you that’s all. We didn’t mean to throw that on you so rough…”  my mom recalled as she looks at my dad in disgust.
They next day wasn't as stressful, there was still the little feeling in my stomach when anyone greets me.  As I approached 9th period it just got worse.  She came around the room collecting the test, but stop right in front of me.  While standing there, she soon gasped in air to began to speak, “Maddi, wait for me in the hallway. I need to talk to you.”
Of course I listened and walked out into the musty, old, creeky hallway.  I waited against the blue lockers for Ms. Hoover. A few minutes later, I heard loud stomps coming from the classroom, and getting closer.  Sure enough, it was Ms. Hoover.  She began with, “Looks like I gave you the wrong test and would like you to forgive me,” with a sniffle she began again.  “You actually got 97%, and again I am very sorry for the misfortune.  I will be emailing your parents.  Now get inside and start the Do now.” I walked in after her, hearing a raspy cough as well.
Of course my parents were happy, and so was I.  I was rewarded with a fancy dinner, and ice cream. Although, I never got back to Sarah about how her parents reacted. Hopefully like mine, and not bad. 
    Rinnggggggggg….. ringggggggggg…. ringgggggg... She didn’t answer until the last ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, its Maddi, who is this?” I answered to the stranger voice coming out of the phone.
“This is Ms.Ferrante.. um… I am afraid Sarah is not available,”  Sarah’s mom said with slight anger in her voice.  I heard the loud obnoxious beep that ended the call.
It took me awhile to come to the conclusion, but it finally hit me. I remember what Sarah was telling me during school… 9th period… Oh no. Sarah was right, it actually happened!  I cried myself to sleep that night, my best friend is dead.