Back in those days, I was driving that white Dodge Spirit that burned just the littlest bit of oil that you'd smell when you'd turn the car off and get out. I think I parked in space 54 or maybe 53 or 64. Leaving was always congested because the funneled everyone out onto A street because the people on Bonito couldn't believe that in living next to a high school they'd be some noise and traffic at the end of the day. Life in the Fast Lane would always play on ZLX.
I started sticking around after school. I never really did much in the way of extracurricular activities because I was busy or I wanted to go home and oh code or something. But I'd go to Mr. Corcoran's or Mr. Quinn's and talk about chemistry or calculus or computer science and stuff. Never really class-related stuff but just other ideas like aluminum/sulfuric acid powered cars or the relationship between colors elements burned and their ions in solution or what if I took two solutions to a fourth root(??) and solved for i.
I think hanging around after school was the closest thing you could get to freedom in high school. Wandering around the school, going where you wanted, when you wanted (though maybe this is different now). It really wows me that I was expected to be in certain places at certain times and if I wasn't, I wasn't just blowing off some obligation I would genuinely be in trouble. It seems so far away, even though 2005 doesn't really.
The teachers seemed really real (what horrid phrasing) then. More so than any college professors and I'm not sure why. I'd go to college professors for help with class material occasionally, but never just to hang like this. Maybe I did this in high school because it was novel. Maybe it's spending a whole year (or more) with these people. Or did I just have nothing better to do?
Overall, it was nothing to write home about.