Someone Like You by Sarah Dessen Read Free Book Online Page A

“Okay. There’s really no avoiding it.”
    â€œI agree,” I said, unlocking my door.
    â€œLet’s go then,” she said grudgingly, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind her, hitching her backpack over one shoulder. I followed, merging into the crowd that carried us down through the teachers’ parking lot to the courtyard in front of the main building. The first bell rang and everyone moved inside, suddenly thrown together in front of the doors and causing a major traffic jam of bodies and backpacks, elbows and feet, a tide I let carry me down the hallway to my homeroom, keeping my eye on the back of Scarlett’s red head.
    â€œThis is it,” I said as we came up on Mr. Alexander’s door, which was decorated with cardboard cutout frogs.
    â€œGood luck,” Scarlett called out, pulling open the door of her own homeroom and rolling her eyes one last time as she disappeared inside.
    Mr. Alexander’s room already smelled of formaldehyde and he smiled at me, mustache wriggling, as I took my seat. The first day was always the same: they took roll, handed out schedules, and sent home about ten million different memos to your parents about busing and cafeteria rates and school rules. Beside me Ben Cruzak was already stoned and sleeping, head on his desk, with Missy Cavenaugh behind him doing her fingernails. Even the snake on Mr. Alexander’s counter looked bored, after eating a mouse for the audience of science geeks who always hung out before first bell.
    After about fifteen minutes of continuous droning over the intercom and a stack of memos an inch high on my desk, Alexander finally handed out our schedules. I could tell right away something was wrong with mine; I was signed up for Pre-calculus (when I hadn’t even taken Algebra Two), French Three (when I took Spanish), and, worst of all, Band.
    â€œHave a good day!” Alexander yelled above the bell as everyone headed toward the door. I went up to his desk. “Halley. Yes?”
    â€œMy schedule is wrong,” I said. “I’m signed up for Band.”
    â€œBand?”
    â€œYes. And Pre-cal and French Three, and none of those are my classes.”
    â€œHmmm,” he said, and he was already looking over my head at the people streaming in, his first class. “Better go to your first class and get a pass to Guidance.”
    â€œBut...”
    He stood up, his mustache already moving. “Okay, people, take a seat and I’ll be sending around a chart for you to fill in your chosen spot. This will be the seating chart for the rest of the semester, so I suggest you choose carefully. Don’t tap on that glass, it makes the snake crazy. Now, this is Intro to Biology, so if you don’t belong here...”
    I walked out into the hallway, where Scarlett was leaning against the fire extinguisher waiting for me. “Hey. What’s your first class?”
    â€œPre-cal.”
    â€œWhat? You haven’t taken Algebra Two yet.”
    â€œI know.” I switched my backpack to my other shoulder, already sick of school. “My schedule is so messed up. I’m signed up for Band.”
    â€œBand?”
    â€œYes.” I stepped aside to let a pack of football players pass. “I have to go to Guidance.”
    â€œOh, that sucks,” she said. “I’ve got English and then Commercial Design, so I’ll meet you after, okay? In the courtyard by the soda machines.”
    â€œI’m supposed to be in Band then,” I said glumly.
    â€œThey can’t force you to take Band,” she said, laughing. I just looked at her. “They can’t. Go to Guidance and I’ll see you later.”
    The Guidance office was packed with people leaning against the walls and sitting on the floor, all waiting for the three available counselors. The receptionist, whose phone was ringing shrilly, nonstop, looked up at me with the crazed eyes of a rabid