By Kristin Walker
Whilst the critical broadcasts that each senior needs to perform a compulsory year-long Marriage schooling application, Fiona Sheehan believes that her lifestyles can?t get any worse. Then she marries her ?husband?: jerky jock Todd, whose cheerleader female friend, Amanda, has had it in for Fiona considering the fact that day one in every of moment grade. Even worse? Amanda is paired with Fiona?s long term overwhelm, Gabe. a minimum of Fiona is doing higher than her ally, Marcie, who's paired up with the very quiet, very mysterious Johnny Mercer. Pranks, fights, misunderstandings, and reconciliations happen in a nearly Shakespearean comedy of blunders approximately fallacious first impressions, convoluted coupling, and hidden crushes.
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Extra resources for A Match Made in High School
That’d be if Amanda actually had brains. Which was doubtful. The only time in history that she’d demonstrated the least bit of cleverness was in second grade when I wet my pants on a pony ride at Callie Brooks’s seventh birthday party and Amanda started calling me Pee-ona instead of Fiona. Then she’d say, Your last name should be Pony. Then you’d be Pee-ona Pony. Get it? Pee-on-a-pony? Yeah, I got it. Hi-freakin’-larious. She still called me Pee-ona, too. In ten years she hadn’t been able to think up anything more original.
But candy offers no sustenance. Meanwhile, the solid, nourishing potato that you married lies rotting in the cupboard. Make the choice before you make the commitment, ladies and gentlemen! Don’t choose a potato if what you really want is candy. ” It was pretty clear that none of us did. Even though she studied our stony faces for an answer. A tear dribbled down her cheek. She swiped it away. “So. Marriage. Yes. Marriage is a commitment between two people . . a commitment that . . that . . Oh, you know the rules.
I had just convinced myself that the stupid picture was so beneath my contempt, when I noticed Todd Harding line up about five people behind me. I tucked my book in my backpack, took a “cleansing breath,” as Mar would say, and decided I would say hello. Just to make sure he knew about the appointment on Friday and all. I pride myself on my maturity. When I got to the entrée counter, I stood back, like I didn’t know what I wanted. “Go ahead,” I said to the girl next in line. And the next: “Go on, I’m still deciding.