Faith

Faith
. . .

Whoever says that Catholic girls are the good girls have obviously never seen what a real Catholic school looks like. We don't wear socks up to the knees and skirts that go down to our ankles while the shirts are just these ugly polos. If anything, they got the assumption on the shirts correct but the rest is far from true. If I counted the number of girls that I saw with skirts way too short and shirts buttoned halfway, I'd get half of my school's population.

"I wish they'd get a room," I muttered to myself when I caught another couple near my locker deciding to lock lips as intensely as possible. Being with your boyfriend or girlfriend is fine with me. Just not in front of my locker.

"Why? It's like free porn." My friend laughed. Kendra had always been one of the sanest people I had ever met but that was far from what I had expted to hear from her.

I just rolled my eyes, showing how agitated I was getting by the little show nearby. "But you don't have lunch yet and he doesn't even go here. I swear, they need better locks on the doors here. We can clearly see by the fact that her hand is in his pants that the genetics are not the same."

Kendra slammed her locker to a close, startling the couple. "Well," she said, suddenly chipper by how she disturbed them (and that's why she's become my best friend), "the dean will come around and see that the guy is here and gladly escort him back to the guys' academy next door. Not like it's a long walk,"

That's how convenient things are for other people. The boys' school is right next to the girls', making for an easy escape to go see your beau if you want to. On the other hand I don't need to be in a relationship to be happy or miserable. Even if I wanted to go out with someone, nobody would ask. I'm alright with it too. It's just a lovely perk of being Faith Livingston.

*

The story between Kendra and I happens to be a good one. Catholic schools are only comprised of so many people and after a while they aren't only your classmates but also your family whether you want them to be or not. Kendra happens to be one of the rare people I hadn't minded sticking by since grade school. She should be honored but she likes to joke that it's destiny instead. The dork.

Three more periods left of the day without her drag for sure. History is boring, science is hard and religion—oh wait, in high school it's called theology—is something that I've been learning since I was five so I basically know all that is to be known anyway. I get small reprieves from the kids I can't stand during passing periods but that's nothing.

"Miss Livingston," I hear just as I thought I was free after sixth period.

"Yes," I answer, turning slowly with a smile that maked me feel like my face was about to crack. Trying too hard is something I have well accomplished.

"Your paper you turned in is the wrong format. It's MLA instead of APA. You need to change it or receive an F for the assignment." The substitute teacher said to me as sweetly as possible. The only reason she wasn't the official theology teacher was only because the real teacher I was supposed to have got knocked up and had to go on maternity leave. So much for an easy A with her class. "I'll give you two days to fix it."

"Two days?" I parroted. "That's just the weekend."

"I know," she nodded as if she honestly believed I didn't understand. "I know it's a long assignment to reformat but at least I'm giving you a second chance. I'm doing this for your own good. Every teacher wants their students to do good Miss Faith Livingston."