I stood outside the entry way of my old high school and stared at the front end doors. Remembrances assailed me and I appreciated graduation time. My close friends and I swore that people were never coming back to this place again. Yet, here I stood, ready to walk up leading measures of Everett Armstrong SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL. Again. Only this time, they couldn’t keep me here.

Heading inside, I proceeded to go in to the main workplace. The receptionist, a mature female with graying hair looked up and gave me a warm smile.

Good afternoon. CAN I help you?

I found myself smiling back again at her. Hi there. I was thinking if I could see James Parker. He shows music here.

The girl glanced at plastic protected schedule. Well he’s teaching right now. He will have got a planning period at 2:00. Why don’t you have a chair? The bell will end up being ringing in a few minutes…