Seventh grade we left the school open house to the parents and teachers. I stayed home doing the copious amounts of homework. Mom walked over by herself as Dad must have been in the hospital or sick. He was spending a lot of time recovering from his whiplash a year before.
Mom followed my classes, but I think unlike Hickory, there was no schedule. Most teachers in October spoke well of me. The gym teacher told my mom if she didn't know me this early in the school year, I was behaving myself. The gym class was unwieldy with all grades in it, from seventh to twelfth.
Mom brought back the report. She still beamed with my performance. Rebellion hadn't fully reared its ugly head, yet. The transition to seventh grade in the baby stages, clinging to elementary expectations. I was still the quiet student, bringing in my homework.