There were a few things I was looking forward to on the first day of my Sophomore year. One of them being, one of my electives this year was yearbook. I had taken yearbook in my 7th and 8th grade year of middle school and by 8th grade I was editor in chief. It had become sort of a comfort zone for me and I wasn't really worried about the class.
When I got my schedule for the year, yearbook wasn't on it. I later found out since I had applied late, my schedule had to be fixed. Meaning I wouldn't be in Yearbook for a few days maybe even weeks. I would have to survive the first few weeks of school without the class I was (oddly enough) looking forward to.
A week or two later my schedule had been changed and I was placed in yearbook. I arrived late and everybody already looked like they had been best friends for years. The majority of the student's were seniors, way taller than me (minus a few), and payed no mind to me. (Little did they know, my voice was louder than all of theirs combined.)
I was throw into the life of a staffer, new assignments every few weeks. This wasn't the yearbook of middle school days. Every day I was running around with my first amazing partner Kristine, interviewing everyone from the shorter than last year's freshman (Is it just me or do they look tiny?!) to the kids who look old enough to be in college.
Before I knew it I was part of the yearbook staff.