You and Me (Plus Everyone In Between Us)

Key Lime Pie Flavoured Cancer Juice

It was terrible. I never wanted to be in this situation again. Luckily, I wouldn't have to be again.

I want to track down whoever decided that the pinnacle of academic knowledge was memorization was test-taking and say some very unkind words to them.

Math wasn't my subject. Nothing was my subject, except music, which was already iffy to begin with.

I never understood people like Emmett who got every single class without subjecting themselves to nightly mental torture to understand the subject. Which made the difference between him and I all the difference.

To most, trigonometric functions caused tears to spill from innocent eyes, and agony to be induced. And I was no exception. I scanned my exam paper, the final one, which determined my already low grade and tried to fight back a dam of tears.

I know what you're thinking. I should've studied and all that. And you're right, again! Luckily, Emmett took all the smart genes, so no one expected me to do well. They were just there to be disappointed in the end.

My eyes flit to the clock above me, taunting everyone will its incessant time-telling. Right below it was Mr. Han's shockingly wide stance and even more incessant hawk eyes on the class. He had been in that same stance for exactly three hours now.

He was one of those people who had one personality trait of being in the military. But since this was Canada, he didn't get to do all the cool stuff. But don't tell him I said that. Or thought that.

You would've thought Mr. Han single-handedly took down an entire armada of enemy battalions with a grenade and stick of butter with the way he described serving. I didn't care if he fibbed the details. It was the perfect way to get out of math.

But now I was starting to think that I should've just let him teach. 

The clock said there was half an hour and I was one of five people left in the exam.

Then I finished.

I slid up from my seat and handed in the paper to Mr. Han. I didn't bother checking it over. I already knew my fate.

"Looks like we're done," he said with a coffee-stained smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Are you sure you finished?"

"Yeah," I assured. "I'm done."

He smiled again, and it failed to reach his eyes again. We both knew that my grade in this class wasn't going to be fixed with an exam. He put it in his pile and grabbed my hand to shake it with his rough one. I think I'd miss everyone in this school the same way. Not at all. Out of everyone in this potential pool of people to miss, Mr. Han took the bottom spot. I wouldn't miss that coffee breath I tried not to wince at.

When I left Math for the last time, I roamed the halls of Cedar High School for the last time thankfully. The floors were sticky and it smelled like wet chicken in here.

Despite its shady exterior of bricks that stayed once this school was converted from a prison, it was pretty nice on the inside. Huge window panels were letting in a beautiful glow of sunlight onto the shiny linoleum but sticky floors. The lockers were arranged in a neat row against the white walls, displaying trophy cases and TV monitors advertising graduation.

Usually, the halls would be empty during exams, but everyone wanted to soak in the last week before graduation and so they were everywhere. Despite what the men who watched their football clips once a week said, high school wasn't the best moment of my life. I'm not sure what was.

I never went to any parties. Never drank or did any questionable substances in someone's bathroom. Never did anyone. My high school experience was as entertaining as watching paint dry.