She opens up the door to let out the stuffy air. It’s cold outside, so I sink into my warm seat. It’s almost too warm, I’ve been sitting for too long.
She rants on about denominators and I decide not to listen. I debate leaving. The cool air feels fresh as it whips around my legs, leaving only goosebumps. I can smell the wet pavement, and while nauseating, i's seemingly sweet.
'I could get up right now and leave.' I think to myself. 'I could drive away in my car and do whatever I wanted, provided it’s cheaper than the faded-five-dollar-bill that’s stuffed in my back pocket. Would they even notice if I left?' I can imagine the confused expressions on their faces as they realize my seat is empty. I can hear the gasps as I stand up and leave without a word. 'What would they do?' I shift uncomfortably in my seat. 'I’d sneak away and they’d never know. I wouldn’t be a perfect little girl anymore. I would brave the wet pavement. Should I leave?' But I knew the answer, even before I asked the question.
I’m afraid. Afraid… to leave…to stay. I’m afraid of leaving the classroom and staying. I’m afraid of breaking the rules and following them.
'I’ll bear through it today and leave tomorrow.' I know I won’t, but I’ll wait until tomorrow.
I settle back into my seat, still not prepared to listen. I’m still lost in my own little world. The door swings shut with a crash and I am awakened to reality. I forget all my thoughts. 'I’ll remember them tomorrow.' Tomorrow…
