Chapter 8

 

          Bridget faced the bland locker in hopelessness. Henry has to be here today. He has to.

She spent all of the previous night frowning over it, wishing she could apologize to him for refusing his thoughtful offer. He had been nothing but kind and considerate since she met him at the airport. And she just catapulted his generosity back in his face. She felt terrible about treating him like that.  Though, to an outsider, refusing a new friend’s “will you sit at my table for lunch” offer to sit with the popular girls wouldn’t be that terrible. But to Bridget, who knew she was very sympathetic and especially intellectual about reading people’s feelings, it seemed as though she had committed an awful crime in the book of “how to keep good friends, especially ones you just met”.

          Bridget continued to stare at her beige locker. She had focused on moving to it as fast as possible so she could possibly have more time to apologize to Henry, and tell him that she’d love to sit with “the group” today…and the rest of the school year. But to her disappointment, he wasn’t at his locker yet. So she stood alone, at the end of the hallway, pretending to do something other than what she already was doing. Hopefully, he would arrive soon so she get the awful feeling of hurting someone like that off of her shoulders…and so she could know that she was his friend again.

          After four minutes of lingering by her locker, watching various gaggles off people wander by, Bridget decided that she should probably gather her things and head to science. After all, the bell was set to ring in a matter of a minute and a half and she was definitely not going to be late to Mrs. Jefferson’s class.

Bridget thudded her head against the metal surface that had been staring at her in the face for the past two and a half minutes.

          “Ugh.” Bridget said to herself. She then picked up her notebook and pencil for class and decided to wait one more moment to see if Henry all of the sudden would just burst through the school door entrance. But he didn’t come.

                               ~

          Mrs. Jefferson sat at her plain desk wearing the same expression she did the day before--- firm and unpleasant. She reminded Bridget of one of those teachers with long yardsticks that taught boring arithmetic in the early 1900s. She wondered if she had always been this way around students. Nonetheless, everyone in the class sat side by side, in neat columns, not uttering a word.

          Bridget noticed, as she dared to turn her head, that there was someone next to her chair that hadn’t been there yesterday. It was a girl with shoulder-length brown hair and dreary gray clothes on. She looked like she dreaded to be here ten times more than everyone else. Thus, Bridget did not spark conversation. It’s not like she could have, anyway.

          A moment later, the bell rang and everyone shifted in his or her seats, eager to do something other than listen to dead silence.

          Mrs. Jefferson rose from her desk and strolled up to the board.

          “Good morning.” Mrs. Jefferson pursed her lips. “I trust you all brought your notebooks to class?”

          The students nodded quickly as if they were being timed.

          “Good,” she said. “I’d like you to open your notebooks and bring out your pencil. You are going to be taking notes today.”

          As soon as the class opened their new, crisp, notebooks, and got out their pencils, Mrs. Jefferson flipped the double-sided dry-erase board to its other face. Bridget could have sworn she heard people gasp as they saw what was on it.

          There, on the board in vivid color, were diagrams of branches of the animal kingdom. There were also colorful definitions in neat rows. Every bit of it was pristine and neat, as if transferred from a computer. Bridget was appalled.

          “These,” Mrs. Jefferson paced to the other end of the room. “Are the many branches of science.” She pointed to it on the board. “What I want you to write down is the diagram, and the definitions next to it.” Mrs. Jefferson walked back to her seat. “That is all.” She said, as she seated herself.

          Bridget quietly exhaled and looked at the board. The definitions were just big enough to see, and they were written in black. But the rest of the board was vibrantly colored. Bridget took her time writing down those, considering she saw that both of her neighbors (seat wise) were still drawing the diagram. Even so, she still finished before a lot of other people, so she just sat there, and pretended to work.

          She sat there thinking that if Henry was in fact at school today that she would have to see him, and sit next to him in math. Since it was a small class, she probably could not avoid him, so she most likely would have to talk to him. Hopefully, he was a forgiving person. She did not want to have a bad connection with one of the ICGS members if she was going to be in it.

          In a matter of twenty more minutes, the whole class finished and just then did Mrs. Jefferson start to speak again.

          “I will teach you more about your notes tomorrow, so you can have full comprehension of the branches of science and technology.” Mrs. Jefferson paused as the bell rang. “Good day.” She said as everyone hopped out of their seats, keen to move on to a move eventful class.

          Bridget made her way to her locker, exchanging her science things for her algebra binder and calculator. She knelt down to get them, and just as she got back up, she saw the person she wanted to see most.

          There, was Henry, once again carrying a very large stack of books about Greece. He approached his locker and, to Bridget’s surprise, smiled at her.

          “Hi Bridget,” he said, spinning the dial on his locker.

          An enormous wave of relief came over her. “Hey Henry,” she said. “Where were you before first period?” Bridget asked, curious.

              “Oh! I forgot to tell you. Mrs. Streisand had a meeting this morning with us to collect all of out possible project ideas and schedules. So, I got here a half hour early…I got to miss my boring study hall in the cafeteria.” He said cheerfully, glad that he got to go to the meeting instead.

          “That’s great,” Bridget was immediately comforted at the fact that he wasn’t being distant to her at all. In fact, they were talking like good friends.

Bridget picked up conversation again. “When do you think Mrs. Streisand will start picking possible students to be in the club?” Bridget asked.

          “Oh, she’s already started thinking about it. She’s got access to all of the records so she can figure who is eligible.” He paused as he was transferring all of the books into his locker. Then he stood up. “Did you ever ask if you have your records here?”

          Bridget nodded. “Yup! Mrs. Hunt, my “parent” for while I’m staying here, told me they were already with the secretary.” Bridget said.

          “Then Mrs. Streisand has admission to them.” Henry said, taking a look at Bridget before he continued shoving numerous books in his backpack.

          “Great!” Bridget said. She could hardly contain herself. It was exciting beyond belief, like when you were chosen to be in the Olympics or something. “When we will find out who is in?”

          “Probably sometime next week, I think.” Henry said.

          “Wow, you guys get moving pretty fast, don’t you?” Bridget said.

          “Well, we have a lot to get done, considering we have to research almost every single detail about the country. Plus, we have to get our main presentation together. But it’s really fun, so it’s worth it.” Henry said, leaning up against his locker.

          “I could imagine. It sounds really interesting. I’d really like to learn more about it.” Bridget said, hinting that she’d really like to sit at the lunch table.

          “Charlotte could probably tell you a good bit about it. Is she in any of your classes?” he asked.

          “I don’t think so…” Bridget said. “Maybe I could talk to her at lunch.”

          “That’d be great. Everyone’d be thrilled to meet another member of the club.” Henry said.

          Bridget assumed this was her pass to sit at their table. “Well, I’m not a member, yet.” Bridget said, trying to sound humble.

          “I’m sure you will. Mrs. Streisand really wants some fresh members. Every time we mention that ‘‘so- and- so’’ is eligible to join, they always turn the offer down.” Henry said, looking at the floor.

           “Why?” Bridget asked.

          “People think it’s too ‘nerdy’…even though it’s really not.” He sighed. “If they took the time to actually ask what it’s about, they’d be interested. But, a lot of people are too into sports to take the extra time to be in it.” Henry said as he pulled out his things from his book bag.

          “Well, I’m looking forward to it.” Bridget said, hoping that would mean something. “Well, do you want to head to algebra?” she asked.

          “Yeah,” he said, smiling. “It takes a while to get to that class, so we better get going.”

          And with that, they both started off to Algebra. Bridget was calm now that she knew Henry didn’t hold anything against her. And, what the most exciting thing of all was that she was getting closer and closer to knowing if she was going to be in ICGS. She was almost positive that she had above and 3.7 in the past two years, but she wasn’t certain. Hopefully, she would be accepted into the club, and have a wonderful time practically exploring Greece in books and the computer with intellectual, smart people. And there was nothing she wanted to do more than that. Nothing.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Short.Nerd]

O.o something's gonna be wrong with her transcript or records or something. Oh gosh I hope not! Like Fafa said she has to get into ICGS!

[compositionc]

OMG! Bridget HAS TO MAKE IT INTO ICGS! She has to! This entire chapter I was worried Veronica and Julie wold steal her away and she wouldn't be able to talk to Henry...