By Kayla Rugenstein
He turned around, two rows up, and our eyes met, neither blinking. Wade Scott, with a colic flaring like a peacock with bright yellow feathers. Mrs. Van Workem announces, "Kayla and Wade, after lunch at recess, you may choose to use the computer if you’d like." Break came around, and we both wanted to play a game. I set my hands down on the keyboard and BAM!!! Wade smashes my hands on the keyboard. That game didn’t last very long. Just our luck, Mrs. Van Workem announces our new seating charts; "And in the second row, in order, Wade, Kayla…" we are placed right next to each other. Now we are making our spelling lists, and I feel a slimy, cold, eraser being wiped down my cheek. After about the 3rd time of this, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I asked to switch seats. Was the day over yet? No. Last thing of the day, the work stations. I had left my station for a second or two to get my marker. I went back to my station, sat down, and a second later, popped back up, screaming. While I was gone, Wade had placed a tack right side up on my chair.