The Cassie Chronicles: Freshman Diaries

By Catherine Davis

Balancing her schoolwork, friends and budding relationships proves to be a difficult feat for Cassie Hawkins as she struggles to make it through her first year of high school in one piece. The Cassie Chronicles: Freshman Diaries is a comical, true to life depiction of high school from the eyes of an outcast. From bullies to bad grades, Cassie finds out how hard high school can really be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 2, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452085524

Catherine Davis

Catherine Davis resides in a small town in Indiana with her husband of four years. She co-wrote her first book, Conversations with My Father, with author John Cunningham (My Girls) in 2009 and plans to continue her writing career with the four part series, The Cassie Chronicles.

Book preview

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Epilogue

Chapter One

Fourteen long years had passed and the day had finally come. It was the first day of high school for Cassie Hawkins. Dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a tee shirt with her favorite band and Converse tennis shoes, Cassie felt invincible. Her older sister, Taerynn, was now in college, but had been the most popular girl in school and the prom queen her senior year. Cassie’s brother, Christopher was still in high school and was a senior the same year that Cassie was a freshman. Cassie rushed to the kitchen to shove a toaster pastry in her mouth as she tried to catch up with her brother.

Cassie! Where are you going? Her mother yelled after her.

I’m going to catch Chris so he can take me to school!

You’re riding the bus. Get back in here and drink your orange juice! Cassie stomped back into the kitchen and slouched in her chair to wait for the bus. Quit slouching, you’ll get a hump in your back. Her mother said.

Cassie rolled her eyes and sat up as straight as she could, obviously mocking her mother, and drank her orange juice. She listened for the sound of the bus and shot up when she heard the screeching of the brakes.

Bye mom! Cassie was out the door and half way to the bus before her mother could say goodbye to her.

Cassie stepped onto the bus, expecting the normal, quiet ride she was used to with being in elementary and middle school. Instead, she stepped on the bus to see kids twice her size that looked like they belonged on the set of Gossip Girl. Cassie looked for an empty seat but could only find one next to a boy with greasy hair and Coke bottle glasses. She walked slowly to the back of the bus hoping to find a better seating alternative on the way. The end of the bus was nearing and it didn’t look like she was going to find a seat near anyone but the greasy boy with glasses.

I’m Andrew. The greasy boy looked up at her from his seat. His glasses made his eyes look like those of a bug.

Hi, I’m Cassie. She pulled her backpack onto her lap and sat down with him. She focused on the front of the bus, trying not to stare at his bug eyes. She could hear him wheezing through his nose finding it hard not to be disgusted.

The bus pulled up to the school and a symphony of groans and moans came from the students accompanying Cassie to school. She stood up, swung her backpack around her shoulders and moved forward. As she ventured to the school’s entrance, a couple of kids smiled at her. Maybe this day won’t be so bad, she thought. As she got closer to the doors, more kids were smiling and some of them were laughing. She couldn’t figure out what was so funny. She laughed, trying to pretend she understood the joke. She got into the school building and was immediately stopped by a teacher.

Honey, do you need some help? A tall, elderly woman who smelled like candy mints towered over Cassie with a concerned look on her face.

Um, I think I’m okay. Cassie said as she inched away.

The students around her continued to point and laugh as she walked past; she walked faster in search of a bathroom and soon found herself in a full sprint. A sign on the wall that said ‘Restroom’ pointed to the right. Cassie turned the corner into the girl’s bathroom and immediately saw her reflection, complete with a wet spot on the front of her pants. She dropped her backpack and gathered paper towels to dab on her pants. Her attempts to make the wet spot go away were lacking result. She picked up her backpack from the floor and noticed a wet spot on the floor where it had lay. She pulled the zippers apart and reached her hand in the bag. A thermos container lid lay separate from the container itself which was oozing liquid. She picked up the container and smelled the inside of it.

Chicken soup. She mumbled to herself.

Her mother had put a thermos of chicken soup in her bag for lunch but had obviously not mastered the art of closing the lid securely. Cassie dumped the remainder of her lunch in the bathroom sink and attempted to clean off her notebooks that had gotten chicken broth on them.

As she was thinking of a solution to her problem, a high pitched noise rang over the intercom speakers and startled Cassie, it was the class bell. Cassie let out a shriek, shoved all of her things in her bag and ran through the halls in search of her homeroom. She saw a door still open in a hallway near the cafeteria with the room number A210. She pulled her schedule out of her pocket to confirm that was the correct room, rushing in the door before the teacher had time to close it. She scanned the classroom for the familiar faces of friends but found none. She slid herself into the only open desk in front of the teacher’s desk and waited for instruction.

Psst. Cassie heard a whisper from behind her but decided to ignore it. Pssssst. Cassie didn’t even flinch, determined to focus on her class.

Psssssssss…, the person behind her was relentless. It was obvious that whoever this was would bother her until she responded.

What?! Cassie hissed back as she flung her body around in the desk. The boy looking back at her looked familiar.

Hi, Cassie. It was Andrew, the greasy kid from her bus ride. She forced a small smile and turned back around to see the teacher standing over her desk. He was a tall, robust man with thinning black hair and stains in the armpit of his shirt.

Young lady, there will be no talking in class. He waddled around his desk and wrote his name on the dry erase board with a blue marker. Class, my name is Mr. Elkins. I will be your English teacher this year. I’m not difficult to please - don’t talk in class, raise your hand and try your hardest. I do not accept late homework and tests are not retaken.

Mr. Elkins bellowed his rules as he handed a syllabus to each student. Cassie thumbed through the packet looking at the curriculum for the class. She was shocked at the sheer volume of information; and this was only the syllabus.

Everyone get a text book from the shelf. I’ll be making a list of the numbers in your book. These books are not to be marked! You will return them at the end of the year so take care of them and don’t lose them.

Cassie looked down at her pants and realized that the previously embarrassing wet spot seemed to have dried. She grabbed a book with the number seven written across the spine of the book. The book was intimidating and scared Cassie to think of what her other books would be like. She listened to Mr. Elkins read through the syllabus and explain the differences between middle school and high school. From the sounds of it, Cassie wanted to return to eighth grade.

Chapter Two

The bell chimed at the end of class and a rush of students fled to the exit door. Cassie pulled her schedule out of her pocket to find her locker number and the combination at the top of the paper. Locker number three hundred ninety one; Cassie looked at the numbers on the lockers around her and realized she must be in the wrong hallway. She wandered quickly through the hallways looking at locker numbers and classroom numbers. She found her second period class before she found her locker and decided that she didn’t want to risk being late again.

Cassie was the first student to enter her Spanish class. Her teacher was erasing notes from the whiteboard, not paying attention to Cassie entering the room. Cassie sat in the seat furthest from the teacher’s desk and pulled out her notebook and pencil bag. She sat watching the other students flood in from the hallways, hoping that someone she knew would come into class. Just as she was silently begging for a familiar face, her friend Annabelle walked through the door.

Freckles! Cassie exclaimed.

Cass? Anna looked as excited to see Cassie as she was to see Anna. Anna darted to the desk next to Cassie’s and sat down before anyone else had the opportunity to take the seat.

Oh my goodness, Cass! I am so glad that you’re in this class. I swear I haven’t seen anyone from our old class here today. I thought I was the only one that passed the eighth grade! Anna squealed.

They compared stories of the summer for a moment before the bell rang. Cassie hadn’t noticed that the classroom had filled with students.

The teacher introduced herself as Ms. Mendez and passed out a syllabus, which was just as thick as the one from Mr. Elkins. Ms. Mendez asked everyone to make a line to get a book from the back of the room, but Cassie was close enough to grab a book for herself and Anna without getting up from her desk.

When do you have lunch? Anna asked Cassie.

There’s more than one lunch time? Cassie replied. She hadn’t had much time to find her locker let alone actually look at her schedule. Anna told her that there were three options for lunch: first lunch, split lunch or third lunch. Cassie searched her schedule and realized that the school had not scheduled a lunch time for her.

I’ll go to the main office between classes. Maybe I can get to my locker, too. Cassie whispered to Anna as the rest of the students filed back into their seats.

Hola! greeted Ms. Mendez. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which was partially being held up by a pencil. I’m sending around a seating chart. Please sign it where the seat you’re sitting in is located on the paper. Then, turn your books to page 4 and let’s get started!

A hand shot up across the aisle from Cassie. Ms. Mendez was preparing to write on the whiteboard and did not see. The boy shook his hand and cleared his throat in an attempt to get the attention of the teacher. Finally, he exclaimed, Miss Mendez! nearly jumping out of his seat to get the attention of the pretty teacher.

Yes? Ms. Mendez responded without turning around.

Um, are we going to have homework tonight? The boy asked.

Yes, we are. Why do you ask?

We’ve never had homework the first day of school before. The boy said nervously. Ms. Mendez had turned from the whiteboard and was staring right at the boy that was sitting just a few seats up from Anna.

Well, there’s a first time for everything. Ms. Mendez smiled and returned to writing on the white board in the front of the class.

Cassie wrote vigorously in her notebook, trying to keep up with Ms. Mendez’s notes. After she was finished copying the notes from the whiteboard, Cassie began reading what she had just written. In her frenzy to finish, Cassie’s handwriting became almost illegible. She didn’t have great penmanship to begin with, and it was obvious that writing quickly would not be the answer. Cassie focused on each word she had written, trying to decipher and rewrite them. In the meantime, Ms. Mendez had asked her a question that she did not hear. Ms. Mendez picked up the seating chart and called on Cassie to answer the question.

Um…uh…I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. Cassie stuttered. She could feel her cheeks tingle and her face get warm and lowered her face to hide her embarrassment.

Please pay attention so you do not miss out on the lessons.

The class