11th September 2009

Bailey’s POV

 If you ask most people about their high school experience they’d probably tell you that they had spent their time to the fullest surrounded by friends. Within the next sentence there would probably be something about an argument but then again more friend stories.

Popularity over good friends is probably the way most people go throughout high school wanting to be little Mr or little Miss popular. Well not me. I don’t value quality or quantity over another when it comes to friends, mainly because I don’t have any.

People say they don’t have friends when really they have a few just they’re not popular, but I literally have no friends but I don’t really care.

It was mainly due to my Father being the strictest teacher in my school along with being the football coach. This meant many people just couldn’t stand me due to him. Don’t get me wrong I love my Father but it isn’t very fair.

Just without friends it meant I was able to spend the whole time in high school focusing on my studies.

Most of my break times, I would spend walking around from class to class, or sat in the bleachers, which I was doing now.

I took a large intake of breath before preparing myself to walk as fast as possible past the stoner pit. The stoner pit was where all the school drug addicts hung out in between classes and generally during classes too.

Looking over at the group I only really recognised a couple of them. One of which was Jeremy Gilbert who was a sophomore like I was, and was in most of my classes. He was stood with Vicki Donavon who I think he was with but I didn’t really know, as she was a senior. I only knew her as she was the sister of the quarterback Matt Donavon, who my Father had mentioned a lot. Other than those two I didn’t know anyone else, as they were all either older than me or they may be in my year group but they would never turn up to class.

At the moment I didn’t have a free period as this was the lesson that most students who did cheerleading and football had practice so a lot of other students had a free period too.

The bleachers outside were also empty as no one felt the need to go outside during this period so it was a nice place to go and sit.

The large white slats of wood lined the field, which over looked the football field. I walked up the stairs to the second from top row, where I walked a couple of steps down the row, sitting down. Slinging my rucksack onto the bench next to me I pulled out a text book, I had taken from my Father’s classroom.  Crossing my legs I began to read.

I carried on reading about something involving the history of medicine, until I felt the bleachers move slightly as if someone was walking on them.

Looking down a boy older than me was taking a seat several rows in front of me. I had never seen him before, but it was rare if someone actually came out here unless they were in the football team, the cheer squad or practicing track.

Leaving my book half in front of my face I stared at the boy wondering where I knew him from, but I couldn’t figure out where. As I focused on the back of his head he stood up and made his way over to my Dad.

I could see that their conversation was probably slightly angry as my Dad’s face was red. Without much more talking the brown haired boy ran off in the other direction and away from the football field.

My gaze wandered to see the girls practicing cheerleading, I could never understand the fascination in wanting to be a cheerleader. I also couldn’t understand the strong appeal girls had in footballers, simply because they were footballers.

Granted some of them may be nice people, but a relationship purely due to them playing football was the beginning of a terrible romance.

I turned my focus back to my book reading more on the subject, not that I would be studying this for a while but there was no point in looking over what I already knew seen as I was pretty confident in it all and I didn’t have exams for a while.

Soon enough the period ended and I made my way to my Maths class that flew by. By the time school ended I was making my way to my Dad’s classroom where I knew he would be see as there wasn’t football practice.

As I could see no one was in the classroom I made my way in without knocking sitting down in the second row seat.

Once again I pulled out a book and began to read. This was the general routine for my day, and it rarely varied. My Father stuck to his routines meaning I stuck by mine.

After about an hour and a bit he stood up and began to pack up the books that lay on his desk. I continued to read until he stopped sorting out his stuff.

“Bailey, are you ready to leave?” he questioned.

“Yes,” I nodded putting my text book in my bag.

I slung my bag onto my shoulder picking up a pile of books from his desk and followed him to his car.

The other student’s hatred of him was understandable as he was a solitary and harsh man, and I knew completely why. He had experienced pain in his life, and it wasn’t just that easy to be a simply nice and pleasant person. By no means was he a horrible person or completely negative but he was slightly hostile especially in school.

When we reached the car I dropped my bag in the back and put the pile of books on the seat as well. I walked to the passenger side of the car getting in and waiting for him to place all his stuff in the back of the car.

He got into the driver’s seat turning the engine on before driving us home.