(I am sitting at lunch with a group of my friends, when one of my other friends excitedly runs up to our table.)

Friend: “Guys! Guys! Guess what? I got elected president of YADDAP!”

(YADDAP is our school’s anti-drug group. It stands for Youth Against Drugs, Drinking, And Pregnancy. She is wearing one of their red ribbons that say: ‘Celebrate a drug-free [Home City]!’)

Me: “[Friend], you got elected president of YADDAP?”

Friend: “Yeah!”

Me: “Didn’t you have a pot brownie before coming to school this morning?”

Friend: “Yeah. What’s your point?”

(I’m in my history class. The boy that I’ve been told to sit next to for the last six weeks likes to copy my work. I’ve asked him to stop but have found he’s copied me word for word for the last three weeks whenever we have to take notes from the textbook.)

Teacher: “Right, guys. Turn to the chapter on medieval medicine. I want you to write a paragraph summary.”

Me: *writing* “The practices of the medieval doctors were not all bad; there were some valuable contributions. Practices improved when the doctors realised that they needed to…”

(I look down and see the boy sitting next to me has written the same word for word. I stop writing in pen and get out my pencil.)

Me: *continuing writing* “…needed to stop copying my work.”

(Needless to say, once he realised what he’d just copied down, he stopped trying to copy my work!)

(At our school, there are multiple choices for science classes after freshman year. It is towards the end of my sophomore year, and students are talking as we change classes.)

Student #1: “Hey, does anybody know where we go for the cat dissection?”

(Nobody responds for a moment, then…)

Student #2: “Wow. I’m really glad I took chemistry.”

(Our band director, while possessing a sense of humor, tends to be rather strict in her teaching style. As a result, a few students develop a rebellious sort of attitude with her. One has been making rather rude comments to her section for the past few minutes.)

Director: “[Student #1], I’ve had it with your comments. If you think all of this is beneath you, then go stand in the foyer until we’re done.”

(Student #1 actually does go stand in the little area in the entrance to the band room. The class proceeds normally, until the director tries to talk and is constantly interrupted by another student making noises with his trumpet.)

Director: “[STUDENT #2]!”

Student #2: *panicking* “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m REALLY sorry! PLEASE DON’T SEND ME TO THE FOYER!”

(The class is dead silent for about three seconds, and then everyone bursts out laughing. The class ends, and as I go up to the director to return some music…)

Director: *muttering in a high-pitched voice* “Please don’t send me to the foyer!”

(A boy has come to school wearing makeup after losing a bet to his girlfriend.)

Male Student: “Oh, you look fabulous.”

Female Student: “Oh, my god, [Boy’s name]! You would make such a pretty girl!”

Teacher: *to female student* “Yes. And someday, you might too.”