I flopped down on my bed with a huge sigh, and clutched the test paper to my chest. An A! An A on a science exam! My first ever. I stared at it, unseeingly. Do you know what this meant? This meant I could be in the play! The P.E. grade was no biggie...Coach Shandler really did like me. And in math I just turned in the homework I hadn't done. The History thing was a fluke anyways, as it turned out. I was supposed to have an 86, not a 68. Which was surprising, but I wasn't about to question my good luck. And science. I am just glad that I got an A, and now get to do Grease, my all time favorite musical ever! And with Nick no less. Life couldn't be better. I LOVE my life!

I hate my life. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I cannot believe this is happening to me.

I slumped further down into my chair as I listened to what Mrs. Johnson, my history teacher, was saying.

"Ms. Curto, I am so sorry. I really am. You don't know how sorry I am."

I just stared at my plump history teacher, who was wringing her hands in her lap. She bit her lip as she looked at me sorrowfully.

"It's okay," I said dully, rising from the uncomfortable plastic chair. "I knew it was too good to be true."

She just blinked at me. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked hopefully. Mrs. Johnson shook her head. I was about to walk from the room when she said, "Well...there is one thing..."

"I cannot believe this. I cannot believe I am doing this," I muttered to myself as I dropped the recycling box next to Mrs. Johnson's desk. She looked up in surprise.

"Why, thank you dearie." She turned to look at the clock. "Well, look at the time! I didn't realize it was so late. You can go now."

"What about my grade?"

"Why, yes, I'll raise it to a seventy right now. Good night!"

I walked slowly down the now empty school halls and out the front door, where I was surprised to see Nick waiting in a red convertible. "Nick?" I said uncertainly. "Is that really you, or am I so tired I'm seeing things?"

Nick laughed. He had such nice teeth. "It's really me. Now, do you want a ride or not?" "Yes please!"

I got into the car, and Nick started the engine. "Class got out pretty late, and I didn't expect you to be here, but I came by anyways. I'm glad I did. You look beat."

"Gee thanks," I said acerbically. "You didn't spend the last three and a half hours running errands for your sadistic, slightly absentminded history teacher," I sniffed.

Nick raised his eyebrows. "Good point. And why, may I ask, did you do that?"

"Well, it turns out that I really did have a 68 in that class. And that Mr. Johnson didn't think it was fair that I just get an 86. So she offered to 'let' me be her 'helper' for the afternoon, and she said she'd raise my grade. She didn't mention that in the history wing at Randwell High, 'let' means forced and 'helper' means slave."

"Oooh, that sucks."

"Yeah, I know. But guess what?" I said in excitement, bouncing on the seat. "I got a ninety eight on my C&R test!"

"That's great! Nick leaned over and gave me a one armed hug. "So now will we be in the play together?"

"Yup!" I grinned. Maybe my life wasn't so horrible after all.

We pulled up in front of my house, and I got out of the car. "Thanks Nick!" I said as I ran up the front walk. "Anytime," he replied. He waited until my brother opened the door for me before driving away.

"What are you so happy about?" My brother asked me curiously. "Nothing," I replied, a smile still on my face as I wandered into the kitchen where my mom was cooking dinner.

"Guess what?" I asked as I walked up beside my mom.

"Chelsea! I'm glad you're home. Will you make a salad for me?" my mother asked distractedly without turning around.

"Uhh, sure," I replied and began to chop up some vegetables. "Mom--"

"Chelsea, would you hand me that wooden spoon?" my mother interrupted me again. "Uh, sure..." I handed her the spoon. "Mom?" I tried again.

"Yeah sweetie?" my mother replied. "Guess what I got on the--"

"Oh, Chelsea, I almost forgot. Megan called a few minutes ago, and wanted you to call her back."

"Sure mom, in a minute. But first--"

"Oh, and Sammy wanted to know if you could spend the night on Friday. I told her I'd ask you and-"

"MOM!"

"What?"

I took a deep breath. "I'll call them. Now, could you listen to me for a sec?"

"Of course," my mother replied, looking almost indignant that I would suggest that she wasn't listening to me.

I took a deep breath. I was about to start speaking when Stephen ran into the kitchen. "Mom, can Kevin come over after dinner?"

My mother turned her attention to my younger brother. As they began to argue over the importance of it being a school night, I wandered out of the kitchen to find my dad. He'd appreciate my science grade-he was an engineer after all.

I found him in his study. "Dad?" I asked hesitantly. He held up a hand, and I noticed he was on the phone. "Yes Jack. Okay Jack. Alright, I'll look it up and get right back to you."

As he finished his phone conversation, I took a look around the office. I hadn't been in there for a while, but everything looked exactly the same. The huge oak desk that took up three walls of the room, and Compaq computer that sat in the middle. There was also a small window that overlooked the driveway, and a huge comfy chair that I had fallen asleep in practically every night when I was younger, as my father read me bedtime story after bedtime story. I smiled at the memory as my dad hung up the phone.

"Hey Pea," he said. "What's up?" I grimaced at the childhood nickname, but smiled at him in return and waved the science paper in the air.

"I got an-" The rest of my sentence was covered as my mother yelled from the kitchen, "Chelsea! Rick! Time to eat!"

I groaned as my father leapt from the chair and walked into the kitchen calling, "We're coming!" He talked to me over his shoulder as he entered the breakfast room, "You can tell us at dinner Chelsea."

"That's okay," I muttered as I took my seat at the table. My family could be so irritating.