[h3][color=3C9699]Lucy Miller[/color][/h3]
September 5th, 1969
0700 HRs

[i]The early bird catches the worm.[/i] Lucy repeated that to herself as she pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of the school. She was still used to getting up at noon everyday like she had all summer and she had been less prepared to wake up at five than she had expected. But she had always arrived at school with plenty of time to spare, and she wasn't going to let a little obstacle like sleep deprivation get in the way of that. Cheryl had taught her that showing up early was the best way to make sure one was prepared to face the day, and if one was prepared to face the day, then they were ready to succeed. 

She grabbed her bag and slid out of her car, taking care to lock it. She headed inside the foreboding building before her, wondering why no one bothered to make this place look more welcoming. Only a few students had already arrived, mostly underclassmen who didn't have cars of their own and got dropped off by their parents on their way to work. She ignored them as she went to gather what she needed from the counselor.

[hr]
0725 HRs

There hadn't been a line in the counselor's office when she arrived, and she was able to get in and out with what she needed in very little time. She decided to head to the school paper's room and make sure everything was still in functioning order. She had scheduled their first meeting after school that day to welcome any new students who were interested in joining and starting to work on their first issue of the year.

The paper's room was pretty small, with a few desks, three typewriters, and an endless supply of paper. Lucy set down her bag at the desk she had used for the past few years then began setting up. First, she taped a sign-up sheet to the front of the door that also listed the time of that day's meeting. Then she went and tested all of the keys on the typewriters to make sure they all still worked. A few keys stuck, but it wasn't too bad and she could probably fix those later. She tidied up the room, picking up stray papers and dusting off the chalkboard the club used to keep track of who was writing about what. Satisfied with her work, she took her seat and pulled a battered copy of [i]The Second Sex[/i] by Simone de Beauvoir, which she settled in to read until it was time for class.