We weren't really told much about the project; just that it would start during the trip, we will have to work closely with our partner, and that it'll last the whole school year. I don't know what jerk thought that up, but they really should be taken out back to suffer. Possibly being tied to one of the uncomfortable desk chairs, with a broken loud speaker stuck on, and to top it off a just-for-show air conditioner in August of New Jersey would be a good enough punishment for this person. Leave it to Adams High to do a project all year. I always had such bad luck with group work; it really was hell on earth.
"Think positively, maybe you'll get someone you really don't know."
I raised my eyebrow again. "That won't take much, our grade is what, four hundred people?" I inquired, thinking I really didn't care to know most of them.
Bridget shrugged. "Sounds about right."
"Aren't you worried about who you're working with?" I asked, trying to figure out if she was only as calm as she was because she was still waking up.
"Not everyone is as crazy curious as you are," she continued, rubbing her eyes a little. "Did I mess up the eyes?"
I shook my head. "I can't help it, I don't want to screw up a grade and that is a long time to work with someone."
"True, I'll worry about it when we cross that road."
I fused my eyebrows and my green eyes met her dark brown ones. "Why can't you and I ever be calm at the same time?"
She smirked. "We balance each other out, what can I say love?"
I gave a light laugh. "Isn't that the truth."
An hour later our bus finally pulled up behind the other buses from our school at our hotel. The girls and boys were separated on the buses, which wasn't a detail that was presented to us until people started to tell what their bus numbers were. Nick March and I, we’ve have had classes together since kindergarten, were talking about our bus numbers when the whole homeroom noticed the segregation of the sexes.
Nick March and I have an odd relationship and always have for as long as I can remember. We were school friends, talked when we had classes together, might say "Hi" in the halls, but never tried to hang out with each other outside of school. We were not on that level. Nick and I talk about whatever; school, movies, and random jokes or comments during class when we are near each other. This was a guy who saved me a swing once in kindergarten the day we met. He hung out with a slightly different crowd when we got to high school.
I've heard him in homeroom talking about the parties he's gone to, and having to sneak back into his house at godforsaken hours. That would never happen to me in my wildest dreams. I never really saw that side of him and I was more than okay with that. However, I was pretty sure he wanted to wring my neck for trying to figure out what the project was. He was trying to push away the thought of doing more homework and I knew it. We've worked enough together in class for me to know when he was trying to avoid school work.
Our two chaperones on our bus, Miss. Barnes and Ms. Dixon finally seemed to remember the purpose to this trip as their discussion stopped. Miss. Barnes was my English teacher who still had a very sweet childish face even though she was probably in her thirties. She had dark red hair that curled at her shoulders, and freckles across her nose. She was fishing in her purse for something as Ms. Dixon, my math teacher, had her everlastingly formed glower on her face, raising a dark eyebrow towards Miss Barnes. Ms. Dixon had dark curly hair in a low ponytail that she wore every single day. Ms. Dixon unlike Miss. Barnes did not have an endless supply of patience.
"Tell me you did not lose the room keys," Ms. Dixon spoke, her words direct, and sharp.
"I did not misplace the keys, Ally. I just have a lot of stuff in my bag." Miss. Barnes giggled. "Companies make bags so big these days. It's hard not to put a whole lot of stuff in them!"
Ms. Dixon didn't even crack a smile as Miss Barnes’ head bobbed left to right, probably humming to herself as she searched for the keys; she did that in class…
"Aha!" She wore a grand grin on her face as she held up the bundle of keys. Ms. Dixon’s stone face lacked the enthusiasm that Miss Barnes' had.
"Lovely, you can do your job," Ms. Dixon remarked.
Miss. Barnes rolled her eyes; she did work with high school students after all. Understanding sarcasm was Teaching 101. Comments never seemed to penetrate her optimism. "Was your sense of humor accidently tossed out of the bus window? Live a little!" Miss. Barnes stood up in the middle of the aisle. "Ladies! I'm about to pass out your keys so we can get the ball rolling. Make sure you listen to the directions very carefully and answer the room phones because you guys were not allowed to bring any electronics on the trip. Now, Laurie Doyle where are you?"
I turned my head, taking a deep breath before letting it go slowly, in an attempt to
