116 Street

By the time I got to High School, I was firmly entrenched in the in-crowd. I had perfected the technique of fooling my parents into thinking that I was still the geek that they were so proud of in middle school, and at fooling my friends into thinking that I didn't give two shits about my school work. But once high school was over, I couldn't really fuck around anymore.

I wanted to be a writer. My English teacher Mrs. Weeks really wanted me to go to journalism school. I got into Northwestern's journalism program, but when you have parents like mine, journalism, or any humanities subject for that matter is not an option. You may think that I'm just stereotyping, that there's no way that my family was really the way that I describe it, but I lived it. Yeah I may be exaggerating a bit, but do you think that I have the imagination to come up with some of the things I've told you? Like the Science Fair thing I told you about. Not only did I have to run a regular experiment for school, but my parents made me do supplementary reports complete with only god-knows-how-many charts and graphs and follow-up experiments to make sure that the data was accurate. And this was in third grade. Needless to say, I won first place.

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