Saved by the bell again. I guess that's sort of harsh; I don't hate science class or anything, but lunchtime beats it by a mile. I gather my binder and things and weasel my way out of the room and into the hallway.

In the five minutes we get as passing time from class to class, the hallways are mad highways. But the hallways after second block are highways during an evacuation. All us ninth graders are either shoving everyone around to get to the cafeteria or walking painfully slow. Since assertiveness is a quality I lack, I find myself in the latter group.

I spot Amanda and Grace at their lockers. They lucked out this year and had Homeroom together. Amanda is gesturing wildly, and as soon as I come into earshot, she turns her red-speckled face to me and asks, "What gender is our school mascot?"

I laugh, glancing between her and Grace's expectant faces. "It's a wildcat. Why does its gender matter? What kind of question is that, anyway?" Grace gave me a pleading look behind her glasses, and Amanda demanded I answer. "It's a male, definitely."

Amanda snaps her locker shut and snatches up her lunch. We wait for Grace to get her lunch as well, then head off to my locker. "It is not. The lion at the high school is male. Our mascot is a female."

"I love how this matters." I commented, rolling my eyes. I reach for my lock, but Amanda beats me to it. She likes to break into her friends lockers, but I have to remind her of my combination. She's not a numbers person like I am. I shove my stuff into my locker and quickly close it. Organized I am not.

"It does matter, Jill!" Grace chirps in her always-happy way, skipping along beside us. It's odd how we're friends, we're so vastly different. She's an optimist whereas I'm more of a… pessimist with a positive outlook. We're both geeks, though. Come to think of it, all my friends are geekish. "Amanda's going to put sunglasses on the cat in the lunchroom."

"Oh God," I sigh and Amanda pushes me.

"You can't say that, you big Atheist."

"Oh nothingness," I amended as we walked into the lunchroom. We sat down at the last table closest to the door. A curly haired red-head was already seated there, gazing off at all the other ninth graders eating.

"There you guys are!" she exclaimed. "About time! You walk so slow!"

"Hi Carrie," we greeted. Of all my friends, Carrie was the girliest, always wearing something pink.

Lunch went by like always. We talked straight through it, the only breaks when they ate or threw away their trash. I never ate lunch, so I chattered straight on, which is drastically different to how I am in class. My friends are interesting, I'll give them that. They actually think, a scary thing for some people, but for a conversation it's dream-come-true.

After saying my see-yous to my friends, I got my stuff back out of my locker. Well, it fell out of my locker, surprise surprise, and I picked it up, but same difference. I walked down the hall, juggling my math textbook, binder, and calculator, no easy task.

"Hey, Jill!" Oh God, I knew her voice. I spun around, lucky not to get whiplash. Or a heart attack, considering my sudden irregular pulse. "I like your shirt!" Hannah said. My mouth combusted into an automatic grin.

Hannah is one of those perfect girls. Good looks, popular, great personality… I'd hate any other girl like that, but this is Hannah. I can't hate her, even though I never talk to her anymore. We used to be best of friends, but things happen. What things, I'm not quite sure.

I keep her smiling face in sight until she turns the corner, I watch until the last of her caramel colored hair disappears, then I walk into my math class, on cloud nine the rest of the day. I'm such a dork, but I can't help it.

"How was school today?" My mom asks me as soon as I walk in the door. She works from home now, so I bug her constantly and it's fun, which must seem weird to any other teen, but my mom is like my older twin sister.

"Good," I reply, my grin making a reentry on my face. I'm off in my own little world, but she either doesn't notice or doesn't comment on it.

"That's good. I ran into Grace's mom today when I dropped Becca off at school." Becca is my little sister. "She said you look great, but she didn't know if she should tell you. You don't take compliments well," she added at my questioning look.

"Do I look that much better?"

"You're forty pounds lighter, got short hair and bangs, contacts, wear make-up like a pro," Mom rattled off. "Yeah, you look better."

My grin grew. I know she's my mother and has to say those things, but it's still nice to hear them. "Thanks."

The rest of my day was the same old same old, but it seemed somehow spectacular, wonderful. I was still floating on cloud nine, and probably would be for another week. I can't help it, I'm a dork.