How long has it been? A day? A month? A year? An hour. An hour? Only an hour. Theres still 45 minutes left in class. How could time move slow when I need it to go so much faster. I quickly glance over at Jon where he is sitting next to me. He looks so calm; so uncaring. I want to stand up and hit him with the nice, fat textbook sitting on my desk. How can you pretend like nothing happened? When he turns to look at me, I realize I have been staring. Great . . . now he thinks I’m going to be his psycho ex-girlfriend. I look away and act like I have been drawing on my desk with an invisible pencil. Fool. Now, I am stuck for 18 weeks next to my ex-boyfriend who left me for my best friend. Maybe he deserves to be hit with the textbook. As I lift all 1000-plus pages of it off the desk, I can’t help but think, I bet psycho ex-girlfriends have a lot of fun.