I hate Mondays. It's the first school day and it's the first day of work. It's the end of the weekend and it's the end of fun. *** My alarm goes off. I untangle myself from my blankets. I hit the snooze button. Just five more minutes please. I stumble down the steps. I'm only halfway dressed. I'm still upstairs, cocooned in my warm nest of weekend memories and lazy dreams. I'm in the car by seven o'clock. I hate Mondays. *** I ride to school with my mom and my brother. My mom quizzes my little brother for his upcoming tests. I stare out the window at the other grumpy drivers. My iPod is too loud my mother says. I turn it up louder to drown out her voice. It's seven thirty. My little brother waves as we pull away. I hate Mondays. *** I stagger into first bell. I sit down in my desk. And just then it hits me. I didn't do any homework. I groan. My head already hurts. The teacher hands back the tests that we took on Friday. The one I didn't study for because it was Thursday night. A big fat red "D" glares up at me. I groan. My head sinks down into my arms. God, I hate Mondays. *** It's lunch time. It hasn't come quickly enough for me. I walk into the cafeteria with my friends. I open my lunch bag. I pull out the sandwich that I packed the night before. I bite into it. It's not peanut butter and jelly. It must be my brother's --