I still remember my very first day of school back when I was just a confused freshman, trying to make it through the day. The five-minute passing period never seemed to be sufficient time for me to find the right room number, and I would walk in late to nearly every period.

As I walked up the familiar quad steps for my fourth first day of high school, smiling with my senior-year exuberance, I was confident I wouldn’t have to race to get to class on time like I did freshman year.

Well, I was soon proven wrong once fifth-period AP Government/Economics came around.

I had looked forward to fifth period all day, excited to finally be reunited with my sophomore World History teacher Kirk Abe, and was determined to make a good first (second?) impression.

This dream was shattered when the sound of the bell didn’t reach the ASB conference room, where I had spent my lunch, and where none of the ASB officers  were watching the clock. Five minutes past the bell, someone finally realized that fifth period had begun and we all waited as Mrs. Marshburn scrambled to write us notes for our next class.

Mrs. Marshburn finally handed me a slip and I immediately dashed down the hallway and up the ramp of the 500-wing, my flip flops obnoxiously slapping the ground all the way up the ramp.

I barged in, interrupting Mr. Abe’s syllabus review. The entire room erupted into laughter as I waved the note in the air and tried to catch my breath.

Mr. Abe then instructed me to pick up a workbook and a textbook, which were packed into a bunch of cardboard boxes on the floor. Leaning over, I tried to get a textbook out of one of the boxes, but it was stuck. I kept trying, but to no avail; the book wouldn’t budge.

I could feel everyone's eyes on me, and I suddenly feared that Mr. Abe was getting annoyed with my disruptiveness, no matter how unintentional it was. In a panic, I dropped to the floor, accidentally knocking over several empty boxes, and proceeded to try to pull the textbook out.

At this point the laughter grew, coming from all directions and ringing throughout the room. “Stop!” I yelled without thinking, which only caused more laughter. I could feel my cheeks turn bright red.

Finally, I yanked the textbook out of the box, picked up my books and ran to the nearest seat.

For the rest of the period, though, as Mr. Abe proceeded to go over his syllabus, every time he mentioned his tardy policy I got giggles and stares from all over the room.

After seventh period, I checked my iPhone and noticed several Facebook messages, all from my classmates, each all saying something along the lines of, “Nice entrance today.”

Now, about a month into school, things have calmed down and I’m perfectly comfortable heading to class. But my peers don’t let me forget that first day, and the whole situation has become somewhat of an inside joke for the entire class. Every now and then, they still laugh at me when I walk in.