Phillip was in a terrible mood. Tracy could tell that even before they'd started talking. She walked over to him, and he scooted off to the side like he always did, in case of an unwanted hug. She could guess what was wrong, and it made it worse that the bell made him raise his long-fingered hands to his ears. It was louder to him. 
"They should make school all year. Or summer all year. I don't care which," grumbled Phillip, adjusting his glasses. 
"You'll get used to it," said Tracy. "And not everything's different. The number of calories in your lunches are the same. You still get to see me every day," she continued, as they trudged into World History and took their seats next to each other. "And boy do I wish I had grades like yours." 
He slouched in his seat, scowling. "I miss my old schedule." 
"I know." 
Phillip let out one more loud, long sigh to vent his frustration. "Make sure no one touches me," he mumbled, adjusting his glasses again.