9th grade: Ferris wheel

The view from the top was beautiful. No longer did we have to deal with older kids because, well, we were the oldest kids. No longer did we get intimidated; we did the intimidating now. Sure, our locker area was all but eliminated due to the construction of the new campus (which to this day scares us) and the academics were kicked up a notch. We were in high school, with a couple dozen new members in our ranks. We were outgrowing our environment, though, as shown by the overcrowded buses that led us to force the seventh graders to sit three to a seat before getting scolded by the administration for our bullying. From the zenith of the Ferris wheel we could see the strange new world that is the Upper School. Our athletes practiced there from time to time, though we had to leave early to catch the late bus back to North Faring. Our freshman football team went unscored upon well into the second half of its season before tragically falling at Homecoming. We urgently vied to get one of the Pinkberry desserts that Catie Yagher brought for her birthday. We awkwardly asked our dates, pretended to know how to order corsages and strapped on our dancing shoes for our first-ever semiformal.

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