I’ve always been my own person. I’ve always hated to have people tell me what to do and how to do it. If they told me to color inside of the lines, I’d throw the paper away and draw my own picture. If they told me to stop singing, I’d sing even louder. If they told me to follow the rules, I’d look at them and say, “Rules are meant to be broken”. I’ve carried this with me since kindergarten, when some teacher dared to tell me that I had to go to class. Because I am my own person, and it wasn’t like she was in charge of me or something.

It was just like any other day of school. I have my hair tucked up in two braids just how my sister (and biggest idol) wore when she was my age. I started today of just like any other, Wheeling my hello kitty backpack down the hallway, thinking about just how cool I was. Step after step. One pink, sparkle-toed shoe after another. I owned this school. Head held high I marched across the white and purple tiles until I reached my locker. Afterall, I wasn’t a little preschool baby anymore. I was a big, bad kindergartener. I had good friends and a good amount of motivation. You could even say I was a good kid, but you’d be lying.

Before my kindergarten year had commenced, my mom had given me a list of rules that I had to follow at school every day. I had to complete my work and be nice to the teacher and include the other kids and always say my pleases and thank yous. The thing is, there are two types of kids in kindergarten. There are the good kids that pay attention and don’t run in the hallways and always keep their crayons sharpened in the box. And then there are the fun kids like me. These are the kids that like to play their own games, and they like to live life outside of the restrictive lines on coloring pages. And they hate lists of rules given to them by their moms. Another one of these fun kids is my best friend, Avery. Avery is trouble in all of the fun ways.
Today, for some reason I am feeling very rebellious, and I’m not sure why. It probably has something to do with the fact that I didn’t even brush my teeth this morning. All I know, is that when I got to school, I was not in the mood to go to Mrs. Shephard’s class. The only downside being that my mom taught her second grade class right down the hall, so I couldn’t sneak out. I needed to hide somewhere. Somewhere they could never find me. Class didn’t start for about 20 minutes, plenty of time to scour the school top to bottom for a good place to spend the day. Janitor’s closet? No, too dark. On the playground? No, too hot. I was completely out of options. After roughly five minutes, I gave up, exhausted. There was obviously no good place to hide, but I am not going to class.

In times like these, I turn to my best friend. Afterall, she is the best troublemaker I know.

“Avery, you’ve gotta do something. I really don’t want to go to class today.” She pondered long and hard about our options. And suddenly, her eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.

“I have a perfect idea!” she exclaimed. I could almost see the excitement radiating off of her. “Right before class, you can use your sweatshirt and tie yourself to the pole by the classroom. They won’t be able to untie you, and then you won’t have to go to class!”

“Oh my gosh, Avery.” I counter, furrowing my brows in anger. “I wish I would’ve thought of something so genius.”  We both hesitate a moment before bursting out in laughter.

“I just thought of something,” I utter. “Since you came up with the idea, you should hide with me!” We both released high-pitched squeals, like the sound you make after opening a great new present on Christmas day. I could see it now. Avery and I, back to back right in view of our peers. They’d wish they had our courage and our pure genius. The whole day we’d sit, with the soft pink sweater sleeve being the only thing standing between us and Mrs. Shephard’s infamous doze-worthy lesson on how to use glue.

The next few minutes before class pound on, painfully slow, so when they make the announcement that frees kids to their locker, we decide to take our plan into action. Avery and I snatch my hoodie and sneak down the hallway to the doorway outside of our classroom. It is one of those doorframes with a pole running right down the middle. A perfect spot to sit all day, tied to the pole. Her and I looked at each other questioningly before standing with our backs to each other on opposite sides of the pole. From around the side, she passed me one arm of the sweatshirt, wrapping the other around herself. Overlooking the glances of our peers, we tied the two sleeves together as tight as they would go.

I have never felt so accomplished before. I felt powerful, I felt rebellious, I felt free. And that was all concluded in about five minutes. It all ended as soon as that rotten Mrs. Shephard stomped around the corner.

“Girls, what do you think you’re doing?” she all but yelled at the two of us.
“I’m not going to class, Mrs. Shephard.” I replied, defiantly. “It’s boring, and I’m just really not in the mood today.”
“Girls, untie yourselves. Now.”
Now it was Avery’s turn. “You can’t make us come to class!”
“Yes, I absolutely can. Go to class. I’ll count to five.”
Oh no. You never get your way once Mrs. Shephard starts to count to five.
“One.”
She’ll call my mom if she gets to five.
“Two.”
Class isn’t so bad…
“Three.”
Is it?
“Four.”
Even if I leave, there’s no way Avery would ever give up her way. There’s no use.
“FI-”

“Okay, okay!” I cried, my unsteady fingers straining for the knot tying us together. It wouldn’t budge, and I began to cry. “Please don’t call my mom!” I exclaimed. “I-I’m so s-sor-rry. Your c-class isn’t b-bo-boring.” I breathed between sobs.

“Okay, girls, let’s go.” Mrs Shephard said in her kind voice before easily untying us.

I followed her back into the classroom, receiving apologetic looks from Avery the entire way. Once inside, I slumped down at my desk, ignoring the stares of my classmates. From that day on, I always did my work and I was always respectful to my teacher and I always included the other kids and I always said my pleases and thank yous. However, I still don’t color inside of the lines. Instead I’ve learned to throw away the coloring books and draw my own pictures.