All my brothers and I have gone to the same school all our lives. I was already quite used to my high school by the time I began classes. However, my oldest brother and I are nine years apart. Things can change a lot in nine years. Sometime before I came here, the school day switched from seven periods to eight. Study halls became almost expected of all students. And, the requirements to graduate changed. This is where my brothers lucked out.
Beginning with my grade, all student are required to take a one semester course of (please read the following in a snobby British accent) Financial Literacy.
Ugh. What a load of bologna.
Why in the world is bologna spelled like that? It should be spelled bolony.
Ugh. What a load of bolony.
It’s such a pointless class. No one gets anything out of it.
I took it last semester. Thank God it’s over with. All anyone ever did was sleep. Or play games. Like cash cow. You know that game? It’s on webkinz. Oh, classic.
This one time, I found pacman on the internet. That was awesome. It became my usual fin. lit. game. I got so good at it. I was a pro. This one time, I went to pull up the game on my laptop. I looked around. I knew the teacher couldn’t see me playing it. He was in the front of the classroom, droning on and on.
The page loaded. *Enter coin* I clicked the button, ready to begin. Crack crack when my fingers.
All the sudden the shrill, piercing music of arcade pacman blasted throughout the room. Panicking, I switched off the noise. My stupid, dang mute button was DYSFUNCTIONAL! DYSFUNCTIONAL I TELL YOU!!
The room went silent, and I could feel all the eyes boring into my head. The unstoppable rush of blood to my face gave me the appearance of a ripe tomato. I sank into my chair. I never played pacman in that class again. Humiliated.