So I should have totally told Ashley that I wasn’t feeling good, maybe than I would be at home cuddled under the covers sleeping the day away than in math class staring at the piece of paper in front of my face that should contain a page of notes but was only half filled. The teacher was droning on about equations and formulas but I concentrated on the spinning desk in front of me, my head hurt like a bitch and my stomach seemed to be taking acrobat lessons from a high wirer performer, I felt so queasy.

“Spencer pay attention,” the teacher snapped me back into reality and I nodded to him so he turned around to continue on. I felt so tired I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up for like hundreds of years. Finally the bell rang for lunch; I packed up my gear and headed for the quad.

“Hey Spencer!” God what is it with people yelling for me, sighing I turned to see Madison and a few other cheer leaders walking my way.

“Yeah?” shifting my bag while trying to make sure my stomach doesn’t jump away from me.

“You so have to eat lunch with us today, we’re going over some new routines.” The leader smiled happily as we all walked toward the quad.

“Actually I’m sitting with Ashley today,”

“Really?” I could tell she wanted to say something else, her eyes flickered with hatred, darker than lighter, “Well…” she spoke between clenched teeth, “Have fun!” than they were gone letting me continue on my way in peace.

The hall way opened up into the quad where what felt like hundreds of students roamed around, shouting for friends, blasting music and dancing wildly or studying for tests coming up. Blinking several times to get used to the blinding sun I looked around all the different tables until I saw Ashley and her gang in the far corner talking quietly. Sighing I gripped my bag tighter and wondered over there.

“Hey kiddo what you doing?” John asked ruffling my hair making me scowl and everyone laugh.

Smoothing my blond locks out I ignored him, “Ashley I don’t feel good!” I whined sitting down next to her. The one good thing about being sick, you can sound like a little kid and get away with it. I remember one time Glen got the chicken pox, he grumbled about everything…cut my sandwiches like this, no crust, it’s to hot in here no now its to cold and what ever he said went. But I had to admit it made me want to get sick which I did about three weeks later, the bastard gave me the damn itching chicken pox, I wanted to kill him.