by Jennifer Wright
He sits beside me; he has all year. For one hour a day, five days a week, he is there. Directly beside me, only one row to the right, he sits. I can see him out of the corner of my eye, and he doesn't notice, doesn't stop me. In those five days, I can see him whenever I wish. The weekends - the vacations - they're torture.
Jennifer Wright is fourteen, and has been writing for several years. She's not famous, but she will be one day.