The Day in the Life of Eva Lewinson
I woke up at seven o’clock. “Woke up” is a nice way to put it. The more accurate term would be “dragged myself out of bed”. Anyway, since I slept at one last night, I had exactly ten minutes to get ready and get to school.
I stood before my walk-in closet with a frown. I had absolutely nothing to wear. After pushing through my heavy stacks of hangers and biting my nails (God, I just got them done yesterday!) I decided on a pair of super tiny black shorts, a lululemon tank, and an oversized grey zip-up.
I put on a swoop of mascara and a dab or two of concealer. Not even bothering with the cinnamon bun, fruit salad, and smoothie my mom had laid out on the table, I packed my The North Face backpack and was out the door.
My mom was already sitting in the driver’s seat of our black BMW XM, looking down at her lap, where I already knew her phone would be. I pulled open the car door, and she looked up.
“Eva, you’ve got to stop sleeping so late,” she said, for the thousandth time.
“I know, I’m sorry, okay. I just have school work, that’s all,” I said, in my leave me alone voice.
My mom sighed, but got the memo. We drove the rest of the way in silence, the only noises being the soft purr of the BMW and the clacking of my nails against my phone screen. There had been big, breaking news, as there was nearly every day:
Alex broke up with Caroline, and was now with Jess, all in the span of 1 hour. Everyone was going crazy. I barely knew Jess, so I really didn’t know what to think about the situation. So, I did what any other person would do, and just agreed with the majority.
When I got to school, Caroline was in tears.
“Caroline, don’t cry. He didn’t even deserve you,” Audrey said, squeezing Caroline’s hand.
“And have you seen Jess? You’re literally way prettier than her,” I said with conviction, even though I had barely seen Jess myself.
“Oh my god, right?” Kaitlyn’s eyes were wide. “She is so ugly.”
“Yeah, like have you seen her nose? It’s literally the size of Venus!” We all laughed.
“And that sweater she wore the other day? So disgusting. Like what was she thinking?”
“No, and she acts super entitled as well. She totally thinks she’s better than everyone else.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “It’s so ridiculous.”
We continued in this manner for another couple minutes, insulting everything about Jess – from the size of her eyelashes to how many cars she has.
Finally, Caroline wiped off her tears. “Thanks guys, I feel so much better.”
The rest of the day passed smoothly. Audrey, Caroline, Kaitlyn, Sofia, Olivia and I made plans to go to the mall right after school to buy outfits for the party on Friday. Afterwards, we would probably hang out with a bigger group until 9, but we would probably go to Kaitlyn’s house and stay until 12. It was all looking super promising.
For CP Algebra II, we got our quizzes back. I got a 79%, which I was really proud of. Normally, I get 60’s in Math, but it seemed like today was my lucky day. I walked out of my classroom with Hailey, still holding my paper, which had a big, fat, C+ on it.
The hallways were jam-packed. And deafening. People were pushing each other over. I could smell someone’s breath (God, they needed some gum) and got a whiff of body odour (do these people not know what deodorant is?). Without warning, a random kid from behind me shoved me forward, and I nearly fell on top of some girl (Chinese, wearing a random hoodie and leggings that desperately needed to see a lintroll). Her eyes snapped up from where they were fixed on the linoleum floor. They flicked up to my face, then slid down to the big C+ on my Math quiz. Our eyes met. Then her gaze dropped back to my paper, where it lingered. Her expression was unreadable.
For a single strange moment of rare contemplation, I wondered – just for a second – what it would be like to live like that girl. Sternly, rigidly, boringly.
The Day in the Life of Laura Hong
Contrary to what most people think, I am, in fact, not a morning person. Getting out of bed today was possibly the most painful experience of my day – as it always is, and always will be.
I looked in the mirror as I was filling up my toothbrush cup. My dark circles were extra prominent after a late night of studying for my APUSH test today. My heart raced in my chest just thinking about it. I needed to get above a ninety. If I didn’t, then my mom would literally- No, Laura, let’s not go there.
I changed in the matter of two seconds, downed my breakfast, and was out the door.
The crisp mid October morning air nipped at my bare face. It was just the right amount of cold that wasn’t too uncomfortable, but just enough for your clothes to feel especially warm and soft. I walked quickly, yet took in as much of my surroundings as possible. These were my favourite mornings of the year, with the chilly winds, the earthy musk’s aroma, the satisfying crunch of fallen leaves beneath damp soil, and the gently swaying branches flaunting their gold and ruby brilliance. I turned the corner just as my bus huffed to a stop.
On the bus, I tried to study for APUSH, but ended up drifting to my phone instead. Over text, Sarah was also freaking out about the test. I tried to calm her down, all the while ignoring my own sense of panic as I stared down my notes, my phone vibrating once every second.
School was going to be such a drag, as it always is. Honestly, every day felt like the one before: Drag myself out of bed, stress about a test, go to school, come home, do homework, and repeat. There was nothing to look forward to, other than weekends, but those vanished in the blink of an eye, always leaving me with a sad feeling of emptiness. The school year was an endless cycle of research projects, massively weighted tests, looming deadlines, breakneck tight schedules, and obsessing over every single percentage of a grade. Even though it was only October, I could already feel myself sinking into the sickening rhythm.
The bell rang, signalling the end of the second period. I packed up as quickly as I could, slamming my chromebook shut, snapping my notebook closed, shoving both in my backpack before wrenching the zippers together and throwing it over my shoulder. I sped through the halls, weaving in and out of clumps of people, hoping to get to the 400-500 wing intersection before-
The hallways were a different level of chaotic. People were pushing and bumping into each other tumultuously. It was sweaty, and the noise was deafening. Yelled conversations surrounded me like a tempest, swirling together into a melting pot of roaring noise. I was definitely going to be late for my test. I kept my head down, trying to drown everything but the causes and effects of the Progressive Movement and whatnot. Before I could even list my third cause, a girl stumbled forward, nearly knocking me backward. I looked up. Basic white girl – dirty blonde hair with blindingly bright highlights, lululemon, Nike socks. Figures. She was clutching what looked to be a Math test. Big and bold, on the very top of her paper, was a red C+. I could see the streaks in the red, where the marker was beginning to run out of ink. I could see that there was a gap the size of a centimetre at the top of the circle around the letter. The girl’s mascara-thick eyes – they were cold, but there was no mistaking it – She was happy with her grade.
I was no stranger to people like her. I knew there was no point in being envious of the type of life they lived – where they didn’t have to worry about their GPA or SAT score. Where they didn’t care if they went to community college, got no scholarships, or would struggle to find a job, because they knew that their parents had their back. But just for a second, I wondered what it would be like to live like that girl. To be spoiled, shallow and indulgent.