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"…Morning Philadelphia!! It’s a beautiful day today, 68 degrees and the sun is starting to peek out through the clouds. And now for the daily news rep—"

"Uhhmn…" Jeff groaned as he silenced his clock radio and settled back into his slumber.

"Jeff, get up! It’s 7:30!"

"Whuh? 7:30? Aw, shit," he swore to himself as he woke up, late, as usual. Jeff examined the miniscule dorm room he called home. Carlos was already awake.

"Yo Jeff!"

"Yeah, I’m up." He shuffled through the books and papers cluttering his desk until he found his glasses. He sat upright and propped himself against the wall so he wouldn’t fall back to sleep. "What was for breakfast?"

"Shit. Oh, and cereal too."

"the usual ‘Green eggs and Spam,’ eh? Goodness, why can’t they just serve us real food instead of"—Jeff quoted the air with his index and middles fingers—"SYSCO ‘food?’ Christ, I haven’t actually eaten since Sunday."

Carlos shook his head dazedly. He was dreamily staring at the pictures scattering his wall. "Shh…sorry, I’m looking at the Spice Girls. Don’t talk to me now."

Jeff grinned. "Sorry, wouldn’t want to disturb you now," he remarked snidely. "Besides, I’ve gotta make sure I look pretty." He examined himself in the mirror. "I don’t wanna go to school looking like this."

"Alright dude, I’ll check you later," Carlos responded.

"’Kay man. See you in homeroom." As Carlos left, Jeff couldn’t help looking at the time. 8:10. "Damn, I’ll be late again." He grinned inwardly, realizing he hadn’t been on time for homeroom in nearly a month. Jeff smiled and began packing his bookbag to the tune of Sarah McLachlin’s "Black and White."

* * *

Jeff walked slowly toward the High School building. He was already late, so there wasn’t much sense in hurrying. As he strolled into the Greek-style building, he couldn’t help thinking about how habitual this was becoming. He found it rather amusing, actually.

Jeff entered the classroom at 8:17, routinely two minutes late. Mrs. Dugan wasn’t paying attention. If he could just reach his seat before—

"What’s your excuse this time Jeffrey?"

Damn, another detention. "I really don’t have one worth mentioning, Miss Doog."

Mrs. Dugan tsked. "What am I going to do with you Jeff?"

He shrugged defeatedly and flopped into the desk adjacent to Carlos’, letting his pack fall to the hardwood floor.

"What’s up, man." Carlos looked up from his belatedly completed Spanish homework after expelling a flat greeting.

"None much." Jeff resisted the urge to look at the clock on the wall. "Little behind, are we?" He gestured toward the Spanish text, which could’ve been Latin, Japanese, hell, it could’ve been Kryptonese for as much as he knew of the language.

A wry grin liberated Carlos’ serious manner. "At least I don’t do my homework at lunch! French must be killing you." They both laughed.

"Hey, it gets done, doesn’t it? French is actually kinda cool."

8:30. Jeff instinctively checked the clock, knowing full well what time it was. First Period: Math with Liebel. He grabbed his bookbag and slowly strolled to the door.

"See ya Miss Dugan," Jeff saluted with a loose wave of his left hand.

"Have a nice day Jeffrey," replied Mrs. Dugan.

Onward to Leeb’s class, Jeff thought to himself. "Another day, another disaster." Jeff smiled to nobody in particular.

* * *

Jeff traversed the hall casually. The late bell rang and he sped up his pace slightly. Jeff stepped into the classroom and observed his surroundings. Liebel was seated in the corner, in a desk nearly identical to every other teacher’s workspace; he was waiting for his first class to arrive. The greenish-gray chalkboards looked as though they hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned since colonial times. Most of the class was seated by now, all of them going about their business.

Jeff slouched in his seat, the second seat back in the first row. He stretched and yawned, thinking about how uncomfortable these desks were., with the flexible plastic seats that excruciated every part of his lower back. Then he slouched again, extending his legs to the empty desk in front of his, trying to get as comfortable as possible.

Class began. Mr. Liebel proceeded to return last Thursday’s tests while the class worked on the equations at the left end of the front board. At the same time, Jeff proceeded to retrieve one of the novels he’d been reading and flipped to his page. He never paid attention until Liebel started scrawling notes on the dingy boards.

"Yo, how’d you do?" Carlos inquired.

"83. God, I made some stupid mistakes," Jeff responded.

"Yeah, me too. I got a 91, but I could’ve done a lot better."

Carlos and Jeff compared each others’ test grades while Mr. Liebel began class. Jeff put his novel away and tried futilely to pay attention while Liebel spoke about square roots and radicals, most of which was just blurring together as Jeff began to nod off.

It was going to be a long day.

By: Jeff Gannon