L-Sama

 "Man, that possum sure is good at playing dead."   I rolled my eyes. "You say that every time we pass it, dad. It's been a week. I think it may actually be dead." "Pffft. Says you." "Yeah, says me. For I know all." "Ooooh, and so modest." "Ha ha." I said sarcastically, turning away from the short, balding man that was driving. My window was rolled down, letting the breeze rush through my hair. It was a warm, mild day, perfect weather for my first day of grade twelve. My father was currently driving me the thirty-four kilometers from our house to the high school, Cromwell Private Secondary. An elite school for kids who's