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4th Quarter Report Card
Name: Monet Stevens
Year Of Graduation: 2011
Date Printed: 5/28/07

Course Name: Grade: Teacher Comments:
Algebra 1 :...............F..............Doesn’t follow. Absences hurt understanding.


Biology CP:..... ........D+... ........Poor test grades. Incomplete labs.

English CP4:...........C+........... Journals interesting to read. doesn’t talk much, but gets material.

History CP:..............B+...........Shows interest in various topics. Takes good notes.

Homeroom:..... ........A.............Shows up and goes to library.

Art:..........................D-............Refuses to believe in own abilities.

....

I examined the split ends of my hair, while sitting in front of a blank piece of paper. Every few seconds, I would make it look like I was actually working by at least picking up the pencil. At one point, the art teacher Mr. Spearman stood behind me, just watching.

“What’cha drawing?” He asked. I sighed, having stopped fiddling with my hair. “Nothing.” I answered truthfully. “Ok, let me rephrase, What are you trying to draw?” I pushed the Monet book over to the edge of the table where he leaned.

“Ah, Monet’s famous water lilies. Are they not going so well?” He asked. I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just can’t draw them right.” I said. He nodded, flipping through the books detailed pages.

“Then may I suggest doing one from the Haystack Series? It’s a lot simpler; not at many colors being used all at once.” He showed me an example in the book. “I probably can’t do that one either.” I sulked, erasing was little I had on the paper - my name, and re-writing it.

“Have more confidence young grasshopper; you are Monet.” The girl sitting beside me laughed at that. I looked at her, and she stopped and continued on drawing. I didn’t think it was that funny.

“Give it a try, Monet.” He said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder and then walked off back to his desk. I watched him sit down, and then looked at the book. I breathed deeply, blowing bits hair out of my face before grabbing my pencil and realizing that this was completely impossible for someone like me to do.

...

“Can we talk?” August asked, in the lunch room, at our table. I still wasn’t sitting with Imogene and the others. “Or, I could talk.” She said awkwardly. I waited. “Um, people expect me to be a real party kinda person.” She started. “Because I’ve been hanging out with you a lot, people think I’ve changed.”

I looked at her with a black stare. I really didn’t know what she was trying to say. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea that we hang out anymore.” She said gently, although it still felt like I’d hit a brick wall. “Why?”

“I’ve got a reputation. It’s not good that I’m seen hanging out with the depressed girl.”

“I’m not the only one. What about Leannza or whatever her name is?”

“Yeah, but she’s scene, she acts like that for a reason. You’re like legit, the most depressed person I’ve ever met.”

“People get depressed all the time.”

“Exactly. And they get over it! Once you get through this whole, ‘the-world-is-going-to-shit-’ phase, maybe get a tan and dye your hair like brown, everything would be fine.” She perked. “But, until then, If you could just not talk to me, which I somehow think you shouldn’t have a problem with, It be better for both of us.”

“......................................................................"

She offered me a parting smile, and stood up, taking her tray with her and sitting at a different table across the room. I glanced at my bands table, and then looked down at the table. Great. And I thought for a second I was doing so well this year.

Personal Report Card
Name: Monet ??
Today’s Date: 6/1/07

Course Name: Grade: Comments

Friends:................... D-...................Not counting the ones in my head?

Boyfriend/l................F.....................Hell would freeze over first

Weekend Plans:.......D....................Just call me The Hermit

Parents:....................Undecided.....Don’t even get me started!!!