Control, Freak.

They're all staring at me again.

I knew I shouldn't have worn this shirt.

Who wears a Star Trek shirt in 8th grade? I guess I do.

They're still staring.

Is there something in my teeth again?

Am I making a weird face?

Control yourself. You're fine.

But why are they still staring?

They look away for a second, but I know their eyes are still fixated on my akward construction.

Tiny damp pools are forming in my armpits

Did I forget deoderant today?

Did I even brush my teeth?

I quickly breathed into my fist and took a wiff

Now they're definitely staring.

If it's not my breath, what is it?

Does my hair look weird?

I knew I should have brushed it better.

I vigoursly threw my head upside down to collect my hair into my rainbow scrunchie when I heard,

"Excuse me mam?"

I wisked my head up to see a blurry outline of a teacher who was not my teacher.

"Excuse me mam, you are in the wrong class. We've been trying to get your attention for the past 5 minutes. You really were zoned out weren't you?"

I half smiled at the stranger as I carelessly whisked myself out of the classroom.

On my way out the door I tripped over my untied sneaker and heard the class erupt in laughter.

"Control yourself freak!"