Mikaela entered her brightly colored fifth grade classroom in Boston Public School, taking in the familiar faces of her classmates from fourth grade.
"Hey, Mikaela. Will your mom be teaching us this year?" asked one of the boys as she took her seat.
"I don't know. I think she teaches seventh grade," sighed Mikaela.
The classroom door opened, and Mikaela's friend, Anna Stanislaus walked in.
"Hi Mikaela," she greeted, settling into the seat next to her.
"Hi Anna. You're looking... different," said Mikaela, taking in Anna's new short cropped haircut that made her look fairly boyish.
"I cut it myself, you like it?" asked Anna, tossing her head.
"Well, if it's what you want. Your dad might have been pissed though," chuckled Mikaela.
"Oh he totally was. But it was the only way to get him to let me stay here instead of being shipped off to some fancy-ass private Catholic school," grumbled Anna.
"Well, I'm happy you're here," chuckled Mikaela, as the teacher entered.
