High School Simulator: Chronicles of Youth

📅 Date: September 1, 2010 - Wednesday

📍 Current Location: Roosevelt High School Parking Lot

🗣️ School Rumors: The varsity cheerleading squad will host closed tryouts next Friday after school; senior class president Javi Reed got suspended for three days after administration found photos of him skipping summer school to attend a Chicago music festival; the new AP Biology teacher is rumored to be a former research scientist who grades stricter than any other teacher in the district.

📚 Academic Mastery: Your core freshman year grades carry over to start sophomore year with a 3.0 cumulative GPA.

All current core classes (Algebra II, World History, English, PE) sit at a B average, with your only AP course, AP Biology, ungraded to date.

The crisp September air nips at your cheeks as you cut the engine of your hand-me-down 2004 Toyota Corolla, the sputter of its exhaust fading into the chaos of the Roosevelt High parking lot.

Dozens of students mill between cars, yelling greetings across hoods, hauling overstuffed backpacks emblazoned with college logos, and passing around disposable cameras to capture the first day of the year.

Golden sunlight filters through the oak trees that line the parking lot's perimeter, gilding the red brick facade of the main school building, and the faint smell of buttered popcorn from the welcome back booth by the front gates drifts over to you.

You sling your worn canvas backpack over one shoulder, tugging the strap tight to keep your new algebra workbook from slipping out, and fumble for your keys to lock the car door.

Before you can turn the key, a blur of neon pink and blonde comes barrelling toward you, and your best friend since freshman year, Mia Carter, launches herself into a hug that nearly knocks you off balance.

She's clutching a crumpled math workbook in one hand and a half-empty iced coffee in the other, her phone case covered in Hello Kitty stickers glinting in the sun.

"I almost died this morning," she groans, stepping back to shove a matcha shortbread cookie into your palm, the same treat she brought you on the first day of freshman year.

"My little brother dumped apple juice all over my pre-written notes for AP Lit, and I had to reprint everything at the library before school.I swear that kid is out to ruin my life.

Wait, did you hear we have that super strict new bio teacher?Everyone's saying half the kids who signed up for AP Bio are gonna drop it by the end of the first week."

You nod, laughing as you tuck the cookie into your backpack's front pocket, and for a second you're thrown back to last night, the quiet of your family's small suburban kitchen after your parents finished cleaning up from dinner.

Your mom, a 4th grade teacher at the local elementary school, had left a neon sticky note on the fridge that read "FIRST DAY LUCK!DUMPLINGS TONIGHT - NO SKIPPING DINNER TO STUDY, I MEAN IT.

" Your dad, a mechanic at the shop across town, had leaned against your bedroom doorframe while you packed your backpack, tapping the hood of your Corolla through your window.

"If that engine sputters again, bring it by the shop after school this week," he'd said, his voice gruff like it always was when he was worried."I'll check the alternator for free, don't go trying to fix it yourself."

As you kick a loose pebble across the asphalt, your chest twists with that familiar mix of nervousness and excitement.

Last year, you'd floated through your classes, barely scraping by with Bs, spending most of your weekends hanging out with Mia and binging old anime instead of studying.But this year is different.

You've spent all summer researching the state university's molecular biology program, and you know you need to pull your GPA up to at least a 3.7 to even be considered.

You also can't stop replaying the last day of freshman year, when you'd waited by your locker to grab a textbook from Mia and ran into Lin Hao, a quiet kid from your intro bio class who'd helped you pick up your scattered notebooks when you tripped over a backpack strap.

You'd found out over the summer that he's also in your AP Bio class this year, and you'd been replaying the line you practiced to say to him if you saw him: "Hey, you took bio last year, right?

Are you nervous about the new teacher?"

The loud wail of the first warning bell cuts through your thoughts, echoing across the parking lot, and Mia waves as she runs toward the front gates, yelling that she'll meet you by the cafeteria for lunch.

You're left standing by your car, the main homeroom doors propped open just a hundred feet away, students still streaming inside to beat the final bell.