Essay: Swapping Schools For A Day

by Gillan Ritchie

I stood in front of a building–the entire front, all windows, with sun gleaming off every inch of glass–and let out a sigh.

I was nervous, I’ll admit, but there was really no reason to be. Or was there?

I walked into the lobby, looking for my liaison, Mrs. Hunley, to receive my schedule. Rachel Bergman, my “unofficial guide,” found me first, however–my look of confusion and utter disbelief probably gave me away.

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