{ALICE'S POV}

Right before registration period I meet up with Agnes. It's the only period I have with her besides lunch. She's in all the advanced classes.

We walk and talk. This is my favourite time of the day. I actually feel . . . normal.
When we get to registration period we split up. Ag (last name: Addison) is seated on the left side of the room with the talkative kids while I'm seated on the right with the quiet ones. It's so unfair. I'm only a couple seats away from being her neighbour.

I sit down at my desk and keep to myself. Easy enough since most of us don't really know one another (or don't want to) really well. We're just grouped together because our teacher thought we would fit. I've been sitting behind Ailsa Arden since year six and I think we've spoken exactly nine words to each other.

Also, she's been dousing herself in cinnamon-ginger body spray all year and smells like literal Christmas, so I've been too busy sneezing to say much.

Registration period is where I get most of my homework done . . . a fact I keep from my parents. Easy enough. They got tired of helping my brother and sister with homework all those years ago, so by the time it was my turn, they encouraged me to be an "independent worker." Therefore, I independently think I will do 1/3 of my homework at night and finish the rest in registration period. This works about 3/4 of the time, as long as my dad isn't running late.

Anyway, here I sit, sandwiched between Ailsa Arden and Harris Anderson. Two not-so-very-important people who talk over me as if I'm not there.

I start working on English, mainly to avoid maths, my worst subject. I wish Ag sat next to me so she could help me.
As if she read my mind, I get a text from her. Glad I remembered to put my phone on vibrate. We're not supposed to have phones in class, but everyone does anyway. Once in a while teachers allow them for in-class assignments. Well, not my phone because it's, like, three thousand years old.
       Anyway, I noticed Ag's text and sneak a peek behind my English binder:

Agnes:  U going to talk to him today?
Me: yeah right.

         The "he" she's referring to is . . .
         Well, I'll get to that later.
         Since we're still on the subject of my BFF, maybe now's a good time to tell you more about Agnes. Besides her big brain, I mean.
        We've known each other since midnursery. I say "mid" because her family moved from Stornoway in December of that year. Her dad took a new job, and Ag has been mad at him each and every winter since (we don't get a lot of snow here).
I think we became friends because I was always nice, and she was always bossy.
It was a good match.

I told you Agnes is smart. That's not really a good description. "Gifted" is what parents and teachers say. She was always the smartest student in our primary class. She aced the spelling bees and won all the science and maths fair awards.
Even though she is super smart, she is fun to hang out with (aside from her bossiness). We like the same music, movies, and books. We both have wild imaginations and make up a lot of pretend games. She even likes helping me with maths, which I'm hopeless at.

Ag's parents got divorced right before year five. I hate to admit, it was a tough time for her but a great time for me. She ended up having lots of sleepovers at my house.

By the end of that year, Ag was happier, and we were totally inseparable. Well, except for the time she went to robotics camp for two weeks. Otherwise, we were always together.
But things changed when we got to secondary school. We're still best friends, but she was put right into the gifted program, which left me alone. This was especially rough because Agnes managed to make new friends in her classes.

And the more alone I was, the quieter I got.

As I said, we're still best friends, though. And despite my shyness and everything, she gets me. She's about the only one who does. We have a lot of history.

Anyway, back to registration period. Ag texts:

Agnes: I'm gonna have to push you into his arms!! :P

I giggle, sigh, and get on with my homework. Or try to.

For the rest of the period, I take peeks at the other kids sneaking texts and notes back and forth or whispering over messy desks. They don't seem to mind if they're sitting next to friends or not. Anything will do.
My stomach knots up a little.
Right before the bell rings, I realize I still have one more essay question to get through. I hurriedly scribble out a paragraph, vowing for the billionth time to stop procrastinating (doodling) at night and finish all my homework at home.

Home.
Only seven hours and counting . . .

{MARIA'S POV}

Registration period. It's my fave class. Wait—is it technically a class? Since I got all my homework done after volleyball, I can catch up on important news...like the going rumour that a certain someone likes me. Still, I try not to listen to gossip (even if it's true). I really am excited, but a rumour's just a rumour. I try not to get too distracted with thoughts of you-know-who. I people-watch instead. I LOVE people-watching. Sometimes I feel lucky I'm so organized. Yep, lots of time to relax.