POV: On campus without a pandemic (Part 1)
Take a quick jaunt in a world without time where there was never a pandemic and you are still on campus
February 23, 2021
Disclaimer: This experience is not 100% realistic; this combination of classes is not necessarily possible. It is tailored to highlight some of the universal pleasantries on campus. At the same time, though, a lot of this stuff is pretty spot on and based in reality.
The bell just rang, and you are only just getting out of your car. Even though you got to school forty minutes ago, you still could not find a spot- screw it, you’re parking in the visitors’ spots today. You slide out of your car, wiping those eye boogies away as you begin your speed walk to the New Building. You’ve got a Yerba Mate in one hand and a binder that has most definitely seen better days- seriously, if duct tape is the only thing keeping you together… reevaluate.
You pick up your speed as Jonathan begins to drive by on the cart, you’re kinda racing him, but neither of you acknowledge it. Why won’t he just offer a ride?
You have finally reached Chaker’s math class. But, everyone is still outside and Mr. Chaker can be seen coming out of the fog on his bike. At least you’re not really late.
Walking into his absolutely freezing cold classroom, you are greeted by the familiar sensation of “Oh gosh, I forgot a jacket.” You sit down, eyes still droopy with the sleep you wish you had gotten enough of, and crack open your Yerba Mate when someone asks from over your shoulder, “Hey, can I borrow a pen.”
“Yes,” is your audible response, but in your head, you are questioning if they really know the definition of borrow. Their bag has become a graveyard for the pencils you bought with your mom’s credit card.
You return your attention to your Yerba Mate. Your saving grace of 150 MG of sweet, sweet caffeine. You give it a shake. But wait. Oh my god. You had already opened it a minute ago. How could you have forgotten?
Your mid-shake, the can is tilted all the way upside down, and now half of that Yerb is down your back, pooling in your seat. Your butt is wet.
Who saw? Everybody.
Mr. Chaker stops talking about the garden for a second and looks at you like you are actually insane.
“Make sure you put that can in the right bin.”
Your cheeks turn scarlet. You spend the rest of the class cold, jacketless, soaked in your own tea. Sticky hair, don’t care as they say. Finally, the bell rings. Goodbye quadratic equations and cherry tomatoes, hello to the sweet embrace of homeroom.
Homeroom. It’s warm in here. No kids to steal your pencils. Only friends, and thank god someone has a sweater. You wrap it around your waist, and you can now pass for the kid who did not pee themself.
Homeroom. Calm washes over you. Here you are safe; here you are in bliss. Here you can write your essay that is due in fifteen minutes. Time elapses too quickly in this class, as the bell chimes with your last sentence, except it’s not the sound of a regular bell- it’s a train horn. Kids keep complaining about the sound of the bell, and it just keeps getting worse. Thanks, guys.
You shove your stuff back into your mess of duct tape that could maybe- only maybe- pass as a binder and begin the crowded-can’t-move-your-arms-or-legs-shuffle down the hallway to your second period class: history with Mrs. Duck.
You sit down at the seat you choose yourself, a privilege given in very few classes. You look around, walls covered in memorabilia, the water polo homeroom echoed on the walls. It’s still pretty cold, but at least you have started to dry off.
As Mrs. Duck talks, making history seem more like a story than just some far-off set of wars, you begin to drift off into your own thoughts. It’s not her fault, she’s doing a great job, it’s just that you had to leave so early to get that parking spot that you didn’t even get that you skipped breakfast, and lunch is coming up next. You can’t help but fantasize about the East Coast pizza you’re going to get.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts of cheesy goodness when you see Mrs. Duck indeed has a pencil stuck up her nose. How did you get here? You might never know. Sorry.
The bell honks yet again, and you’re off. You have 35 minutes for lunch, and the clock starts now.
Follow up with us later for Part 2: Lunch, 3rd, and 4th.