Define "Bad"

So, there are only 5 more days left of being a sophomore, and instead of getting ready for summer like my friends, I’m freaking out over a few B’s. Sound familiar? It’s a replay of my last B all over again, and still in math I might add, but on the bright side, it’s been a whole year since my mom was last majorly freaking out over my grades. I mean really, what are the chances of me, sixteen year old Sara Grace, getting straight A’s for my entire high school career on top of my job and living with my very dysfunctional family. So in the words of my last rant, “Here we go again.”
It all started when I missed four hours in a row of my “advanced” math class, so naturally I didn’t learn what I wasn’t there to learn, I’m starting to see a pattern in this whole math experience. So yes, my grades on that particular section weren’t the best. They weren’t the worst either, but let’s not get into that, it’s sort of a touchy subject at the moment. Anyways, my less than perfect grade led to a much less than perfect conversation with my mom this morning, which went something like this:
“Why can’t you get you act together?! Why must you continuously waste my time driving you out of zone to school for some special program when you can’t even make an effort? No college will ever accept you with your quitter’s attitude. Either talk to your teacher and get this fixed, or I’m pulling you out of that program and putting you back in your zone school….”
You can imagine what the rest of it was like; I’ll spare you the gory details. I do believe that the “conversation” was kind of one sided though; I barely got one word in. Well, I’m going to go watch this Donald Duck movie about magical math to try to get this “atrocious” B back to an A, and to continue harassing my dad with texts to try to get him to calm my mom back down. Maybe between the two, I’ll be able to retain what sanity I have left.

A month later, when report cards arrive in the mail…
“You’re such a freaking screw up! You will NEVER get a scholarship because you’re too worried about your best friend’s feelings and won’t try harder. I wish I had her for a daughter and not you, you’re worthless! At least she brings home the grades, and she doesn’t even need the scholarships to go to college, yet she’s going to get them because you’re such a failure.”
As you can see, the B still stands…
Well, I guess I’ll just have to work harder next semester; I’d honestly like to not have a repeat of this in Calculus next year. I am going to break this trend if it kills me, which it very well might. Looks like I’ll be doing math all summer to prepare for next year. Wish me luck!