"Hey Mom," Gina asked at breakfast the next day, "is it weird that I'm 18, but I'm still in the 6th grade?"
The question caught Gina's mother, Dani, off-guard. "Why would it be weird?"
"Mom, I'm like six years older than all of my classmates. I'm doing trigonometry, and they're not even doing algebra yet. I'm halfway through reading 'The Brothers Karamazov,' and all my classmates are reading 'A Wrinkle in Time.' How are all of my teachers even grading my work when it's nothing like anyone else's?"
Dani shrugged. "That's just always how it's been. You've always been in the 6th grade, and it's worked out fine." She turned to face the kitchen counter, where a bowl of cut fruit was sitting. "Now do I want to squeeze a lemon over this cantaloupe to give it a tart pop? Or do I just want to go to the toaster and get myself a pop tart?"
"This is serious, Mom!" Gina whined. "It doesn't make any sense!"
"Hey, where is this all coming from suddenly? Are you having any problems with the kids at school? Are you in trouble for something?"
"No, it isn't any of that." A brief flash of memory popped into her head. Mikey Gibson staring at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. But he was just a harmless kid, that couldn't be the problem. "It just feels weird today. I don't know how to explain it."
"Well, today you're definitely going to middle school, and if you still feel the same when you come home tonight, we'll talk about it. Is that okay?"
Gina sighed. "I guess. I just--" Gina's thoughts were interrupted by the toaster releasing the pop tart it contained within.
"Ope! Here you go!" Dani removed the toaster pastry with a paper towel and handed it to her daughter. "Now go on, you're going to be late."
Gina sighed as she accepted the fruit-filled pastry, then got into her car and drove to the middle school.
Along the way, she thought to herself, how weird is it to have a middle schooler driving herself to class?
