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p style="max-height: 999999px;"So it's been EIGHT years since I wrote this story. I was rereading it the other day and decided to rewrite it. So, I hope you guys will check it out and like the changes I've made so far!/p
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p style="max-height: 999999px;" s/3269729/1/Lessons-Learned/p
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p style="max-height: 999999px; text-align: center;"span style="max-height: 999999px; text-decoration: underline;"Distant memory/span/p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"That night is but a distant memory in my head, a headache, and even the memory causes trouble. I find it hard to look back to that Saturday without feeling it was all my fault, everything would have happened differently if I hadn't been there, it would've been like any other night, calm and uneventful. Of course, therapists and whatnot tell me that that isn't true, I still don't believe them. Now their making me write it all out, from the beginning to the end, all the pain and regret, that July night will not be easily forgotten./p
p style="max-height: 999999px; text-align: center;"span style="max-height: 999999px; text-decoration: underline;"The first day of school/span/p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"Most think it is the worst day of the year, but for a select few of us, it is all we look forward to over the summer. It is the day we will be reunited with our friends and talk as if we haven't seen each other in a few years instead of only nine weeks. It is my first day of high school; I feel a slight knot forming in the base of my stomach. I can't help but feel nervous, what can I expect from this day? I look at my schedule, and try desperately to find my homeroom. It wasn't easy./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"Twenty minutes later, I am settled in my chair in 900, my homeroom teacher seems nice enough, and a few of my friends are in here. I pull a chair over to them, and we compare schedules./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Lana, what do you have first?" Becca asks me./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""hmmm, Spanish." I say./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""oh, what about second?" she continues/p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Lit" this emits another frown./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Oh," she repeats, and I can't help but laugh./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""I have math third, lunch fourth, health fifth, PE sixth, and science last." I finish./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Oh, we don't have anything together unless you have someone named Williamson for health." She said, my face brightened, I had someone named Williamson for health./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""I have Williamson for health." Her face brightened. We carried on our conversation until the bell rang; our homeroom teacher said nothing, odd that, I guess that's just the way things are when you get into high school./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"First period was boring, our Spanish teacher needed to discover a comb, and a hairdresser. She talked WAY too fast, and in a different language. How fun. Second period was a step up. The teacher was slower talking, but a bit more elaborate. Third was math, do I need to say anything? Lunch was lunch. But fifth, fifth was where this all started./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"Fifth had promised to be an interesting class because it was the only one Becca and I had in common, but that wasn't the only reason it proved to be interesting. We walked into the room, thinking that this would be like any other health class that we had ever had. Heh, if only everything were easy. Our teacher, coach Williamson, walked into the room, emitting a few gasps from the female population. He was amazing, piercing amber colored eyes, a little short, but his muscular build and strong legs made up for that. He smiled, revealing pearly white teeth, as if he knew what we were thinking./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Hi, class." He said, in a thick northern accent, "I'm coach Williamson." His eyes made their way around the room, settling on Becca and me. My eyes fluttered, and my hand made it's way to my chest like it did every time I got embarrassed. Becca elbowed me in the shoulder./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Lana," she said, shocked, "Look at that!" Williamson's eyes brightened as he heard her talk, a laugh escaped his mouth, and Becca turned red as well. He laughed a little harder, turning Becca and me a little redder. He continued looking at the room, and his eyes made it to the two girls behind us they stopped talking, and an eerie hush made its way across the room./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"He scanned the room thoroughly, finally landing back on Becca and me. I gave him a brilliant smile, and said, "Hey coach." He snickered./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""She's flirting with you coach." A boy from the back of the room shouted. Williamson gave a nod./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""I know. She's redder than her shirt." He pointed to my shirt, which happened to be a bright red color. This made me turn even redder./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"" I a… ummm.." I stammered. I was more than beet red. I quickly covered the shirt I was wearing with the black jacket of his that he had draped over the chair./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Look now, Coach, she stole your jacket!" Oh, boy. The overly excited people of this world. Coach was smiling even wider./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Comfy?" he made a point of making me even more embarrassed. Funny how that works./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Just trying to cover up the red, coach, and it is very comfy," I turned to Becca, "Wanna try it?" it was her turn now. I am happy to say that she was redder than me./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Umm, I, uh, I." She was even worse than I was. All she was doing was giving him more firepower./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;"" Coach, Becca likes you even more than Lana!" it continued. On and on and on. Becca was ever so red. Coach was laughing now./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""This has to be the most entertaining class I've had today."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Too bad we're only 5th period." The smart one from the back of the room called. I whipped myself around in the chair./p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""You gotta name so I can throw something back at you?"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Umm.. Ryan, why?"/p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Well, Ryan," I started, "You seem awfully interested in who likes coach and who doesn't, do you have something to say for yourself?" I held out an imaginary microphone like he was on the news. He just turned away, resigned from saying anything else. "That's what I thought."/p
p style="max-height: 999999px;""Nice, Lana, now do y'all mind if we get back to class?" Ryan shrugged, still too shocked to say anything aloud. Coach snickered again. And so the happenings of the first day went. PE was all running, and Science was Science, what else was there to say? Fifth was by far the most interesting class I'd ever had, and not just because of the teacher. Or was it?/p
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