
Chapter 2.
"Big day today at school?" asked my mother.
I gulped down my orange juice and said, "Well, uh . . ."
Tiffany didn't say anything. Dad didn't say anything either because he had already left for his office.
Maria said, "We've got a killer practice this afternoon."
"You have swim practice this afternoon, too?"
Maria looked at Mom in surprise. "Of course," she said.
"The bus is here," I said and we made a break for the door.
"Shannon?"
"Uh, yeah, Mom?"
"You'll be home this afternoon, of course."
"French Club meeting, then Baby-sitters Club," I said. " 'Bye. . . ."
I hurried out of the house before Mom could ask me any more questions. She knew I had BSC meetings every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Why didn't she ever listen? Plus I hated when the bus driver sat there with the door open, waiting, while everybody watched from the windows as I ran toward the bus. Maria might like sports, but beyond soccer at school, which I happen to like a lot, I'm not into running or moving fast. I like to do things at my own speed, my own way. It is one of the things that makes me a good student — that and the fact that I like school.
It's true. In spite of having to wear uniforms (we all do at Stoneybrook Day School, from kindergarten right on up) and having major amounts of homework and a lot more rules than, say, Stoneybrook Academy, or Stoneybrook Middle School, I like learning things. And I like having teachers who know the things I want to learn.
In spite of how conservative it is, SDS is pretty good about letting you take interesting courses. For instance, this year, I was taking advanced French, accelerated math, and philosophy, I was playing soccer for my gym credit, and I was taking an astronomy unit as part of my science requirement — an astronomy unit that I had set up with four other
kids. Sometimes, if you are interested in a subject, SDS will even let you set up a unit for credit, a unit you study with just the teacher, like an independent study in college. But then, at SDS, you're expected to go to college.
