1998

I stared at the back of Blair Bradley's sandy blonde head as Mr. Fenton droned on about the structure of a leaf.

I'd always thought Blair had broad shoulders and a muscly chest in high school. What a joke! And what a Jesse Spencer try-hard.

Before the class had started, I'd sauntered past him on my way to sit next to Bec, looked him in the eyes and smiled. He'd looked confused. Robin had made a scoffing noise from the other side of the room. She and Teagan had then whispered something to each other and giggled. I was sure this was setting the scene for some sort of showdown at lunch.

'Does anyone know the name of the layer where most of the photosynthesis takes place?' asked Mr. Fenton. He pointed his chalk at Bec. 'Rebecca, photosynthesis mostly takes place in which layer?'

She focused her eyes on the chalk like it was the barrel of a gun.

'I don't know,' she said quietly.

'This is why you need to read your textbooks, people,' he said, exasperated. 'You'll never get anywhere in life if you don't study these things.'

A short, sharp, very loud 'Ha!' escaped my mouth. I couldn't help it. Not for the first time today, 30 sets of 90s hair styles turned in my direction.

'Excuse me, Samantha? Is something funny?'

'That's not really true,' I said. 'No one in real life cares if you don't know about leaves.'

30 mouths gasped. Mr. Fenton's chalk hovered in the air. He cleared his throat and went to say something, but I cut him off.

'Well, maybe they do if you want to be a biologist or something, but all this stuff,' I shook my biology text book in the air, 'doesn't matter to 99.9% of the population. I know it's not your fault Mr. Fenton. You're paid to teach us a curriculum that other people have set for us, but why doesn't the school actually teach us something that's useful, like how to pay a bill or apply for a loan or do our tax return?'

Mr. Fenton's face flushed a bright, purple-y red.

Mudsey started a slow clap. 'Yeah, go Sammy!' he bellowed. Blair, Jason and half the room started clapping.

'Finally, the dormant volcano erupts!' shouted Dimitri Christopolous from the back of the room. Trust the school's top English student to come up with a sophisticated insult for me.

I looked over at Robin. Her mouth hung open and her fingers were poised in the air, like she was about to click them. Props to the girl for pulling off the 'Oh no she didn't' look before we even knew what it was.

What did she do for a living now, anyway? She definitely wasn't working in the finance sector in Sydney – I'd know about her. Maybe she was an unreasonable and demanding marketing exec at some fashion house. That would have been about right. Perhaps I would stalk her on Facebook when I woke up from all this.

I almost felt sorry for Mr Fenton, who was trying to get everyone to settle down by banging his biology book on his desk. He was only doing his job and now here was this brat telling him that what he did for a living was pretty much pointless to everyone but .01% of the population – and that's if he was lucky enough to actually get a budding biologist in his class.

But this wasn't real - this was my drug-fuelled fantasy and Mr. Fenton was an imaginary casualty. I had to admit, if this was a drug-fuelled fantasy, shouldn't my mind have taken me back to a cloud of shoes or that weekend I'd spent in Ibiza with a tanned Adonis named Antonio? What the hell was I doing in Mr. Fenton's year 12 biology class?

I again pushed the thought that this wasn't a drug trip to the back of my mind as I was sent to sit outside the classroom. Yeah, what a punishment – I got to miss out on learning about photosynthesis.

****

By lunchtime, word had spread about my speech in science class. I may as well have been Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society.

'Gosh Sammy, you were so right!' exclaimed Martin, falling into step beside me as I walked across the oval. He must have momentarily forgotten that he hadn't spoken to me and Penny in three years. Penny lowered her head and slowed her pace so she could walk behind us.

'I mean, why do we learn all this stuff when we could be learning about the real world?' he asked.

'Exactly my point, Martin.' I shot him a dazzling smile. 'I mean, why should you learn about an isosceles triangle when you could be learning about something that could really help you out, like how not to use so much hair gel that it looks like you swam the English Channel to get here?'

He touched his head self-consciously. 'Weirdo,' he muttered before he walked away.

'By the way, we all know your mum makes you wear foundation to cover up your pimples – we can all see the foundation lines!' I shouted after him.

I looked back at Penny and winked. The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. She quickened her steps to walk next to me.

'Penny, how do you ...'

'Oi two-rounds of sandwiches, what was with you in science?' shouted Mudsey. The most noticeable thing about him was how greasy his long brown hair actually was. Gross. He came towards us with Blair and Jason in tow. 'Ya got your period or something?'

'Judging by way you act all the time Mudsey, you must have your period every day,' I retorted, not breaking my stride.

Laughter erupted from Blair and Jason.

'Holy shit, that's gold!' shouted Blair.

'Where are ya tampons, mate?' added the ever eloquent Jason.

'Hey, Sammy, wait up!' Blair called out.

I stopped and stood to face him, my arms folded.

'Sammy, maybe we should just go,' hissed Penny.

'In a minute,' I said.

Around us, other year 12 students were slowing their steps and pausing their ball games to look over.

'What you said in class was so cool,' said Blair.

'Well, it's true.' I looked around the circle of faces staring at me. Maybe now wasn't the time to cut Blair Bradley down to size. Maybe now was the time for Sammy to impart some of her sage adult wisdom to the class of '98.

'Look,' I continued, flinging my arms out, 'we'll do our HSC in a few months and most of us will get majorly stressed. But guys, all you really need is enough to get into your uni course. That's it. No one - and I mean no one - will ask you what you got in your HSC after you leave uni. You'll still get a job, regardless of if you get a 60 or a 99.9. Not once will an employer ask you what grade you got in bloody year 12 trigonometry and if they do ask you, they're a wanker who you wouldn't want to work for anyway.'

I expected them to start applauding, but they instead looked uncertainly at me like I was Mr. Bean who'd just landed on the school oval in a beam of light. It wasn't that far from the truth, but they didn't know that.

'Oh my god, Sammy, are you actually telling people not to study?' Like a scene from a teen movie, Robin stepped out from behind Dimitri and made her way into the circle to stand in front of me. She narrowed her eyes. 'Guys, Sammy just wants you all to do badly in life, like she will.'

'Yeah,' chimed Lauren, who stepped forward with Teaghan. 'How would you even know that the HSC isn't important, Sammy?'

'I know heaps of adults,' I said, raising my chin to try to look authoritative. 'They all say the same thing. Trust me, you're going to remember my words in five years.'

'Ooh, listen to her,' said Robin.

'I'm trying to say something to comfort you, Robin. What's that you got in the last English exam? It had to be something like 30%.'

It was just a guess, but it seemed like I'd hit a bullseye. And so did Robin.

She shoved me so hard in the chest, I lost my balance. As soon as I hit the ground, she lunged on top of me.

****

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