When It Happens Read Free Page B

is completely surrounded by kids complaining that their schedules are messed up and demanding to see a guidance counselor. Ms. Picoult yells that no one is to enter the guidance office until their lunch period. Chaos ensues. Snarly seniors rant that the people who program classes have no skills.
    I move to the front of the room. My schedule is the only one left on her desk. I pick it up, expecting the worse. Miraculously, it looks okay.

    But of course there’s a problem. It’s the curse of first-period gym. I’ve had gym first period every year. I’ve tried to get out of it before, and there’s no way. They just tell you that all the other classes are full and this is the way it is and there’s nothing you can do about it. So now I get to experience the thrilling sensation of sitting around in my sweaty underwear all day for a whole other year. Fun times.
    I sit down to fill out the seventy-three forms we have to do. Caitlin’s sitting next to me, filling out her forms and talking to her posse. After a few minutes, she suddenly turns around and stares at my kneesocks. I only tried on a million outfits last night before I decided on these retro kneesocks and my new denim skirt and my favorite sky-blue T-shirt.
    I go, “Hey.”
    Caitlin looks right through me like I’m not even there. Then she turns back to her friends. One of them laughs.
    I raise my hand to go to the bathroom.
    In the hall, some seniors are huddled together, clearly too cool for the mundane intricacies of homeroom. I’m about to walk right by them. But then I notice Dave is one of them.
    I freeze.
    Should I go up to him and say hi? Or just walk by and wave? If I don’t do something now, I probably won’t see him for the rest of the day. And I can’t stand not knowing if he likes me. But look at what just happened with Caitlin. She obviously thinks I’m lacking. Now if I go up to Dave, it could be catastrophic.
    I’m still debating what to do when Dave and his group walk down the hall, away from me. He never even saw me standing there.
    My life is over, and it’s not even first period yet.

CHAPTER 4
    cafeteria survivor
    september 2, 6th period
    If the sign in the cafeteria that says WELCOME BACK! were being honest, it wouldn’t say that. It would say SUCKS TO BE YOU!
    Everyone in the cafeteria is so fake. Especially the girls. They’re all kissing and hugging other girls they annihilated behind their backs last year. It’s all so ridiculous. As if we couldn’t wait to get away from each other last June. But it’s not entirely their fault. They’ve been programmed by society to believe that if you’re popular and pretty and perky you’ll lead a fulfilling life. Don’t they know it’s always the geeks that turn out to be the most successful later on?
    I’m still hesitating by the door. If Mike and Josh didn’t have this lunch period, I’d definitely bail for Subway. Well, maybe it is entertaining to watch them play Cafeteria Survivor as if a million bucks were actually at stake.
    RULES OF CAFETERIA SURVIVOR
    1. Always look like you know what you’re doing. Everything you do is intentional. Even if your tray tips over and you spill your entire lunch all over yourself, remember: You meant to do that.
    2. Always look like you’re having the best time. If you’re sitting with people you hate because there’s no one else to sit with, act like you like them. Anything is better than sitting alone.
    3. Always try to sit with other people, even if you’re hovering at the end of a table. However, if you are forced to sit by yourself due to severe ostracism, read something and sigh a lot. This will create a mysterious aura about you, one that sends out the message: My life is so extremely hectic that I really need to break away from civilization right now. Please do not disturb.Thanks so much.
    4. Always complain about the food. Do this even if you like it. Note: An exception can be made for pizza that actually looks and tastes like