My Actual, Real, Gosh Darn Life, a Romance story

THE NURSE'S OFFICE

This is my actual, real, gosh darn life.

You don't even understand how much this actually, legitimately, entirely is my life.

All events are real, all the people are real, and every freaking second of this story down to the the millisecond is real.

You don't even understand how true this all is.

You can't even begin to understand.

CHAPTER ONE: THE NURSE'S OFFICE

So I was feeling real legit today, and I woke up real early. You know, for school and such. First day of tenth grade, first day as a sophomore. I woke up early, because life, and because my mom going on and on about how I'd better wake up if it was the last thing I did. She was making a racket, and my sister was too, because hey if we're all gonna wake up this early then you know what why not make a lot of loud noises? Really I hate people. A lot.

But it was the first day of school! And for some reason I was supposed to be excited!

And I actually did make it to school fine, like you know without the bus running off the road or anything. But I be just standing there in the hallway, when I see the one person that I just plain didn't want to deal with at the moment: my ex.

Anna Jogy is someone that is pretty annoying once you get to know her. Her horrible personality and rash way of acting is part of the reason why we didn't stay a couple for long. I mean. I'm sure she's right for someone just not me. She runs up to me, completely ignoring our past as a couple because that sort of thing doesn't matter just because I'm me. If you break up with me or if I break up with you it's completely fine because I've dated the whole entire freaking school. She flies into my face, screams out, "BARBIE OMG I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN LIKE THREE MONTHS OMG OMG OMG"

Sometimes I have this feeling that she wants to get back together but then I just remember that that's ridiculous.

I grab her by the shoulders, try and make her calm down, but nothing works and so it's obvious she's overdosed on kpop. Holy crap I knew she liked it but I didn't think she would be so stupid as to OD on it. Really. And her eyes are extremely dilated and she's shaking like a leaf in a tornado and I know it's bad. I take her hand and pull her along. "Let's go idiot"

I take her to the nurse's office, which is by the gym, and which is cleverly hidden by like four walls and only has one sign pointing towards it. We walk in and we're the only people there, besides the nurse, and really nothing is a surprise anymore. Nurse Kretsky stands up, and with his hairy hand he picks up the clipboard and tells us to sign in. I tell him that I'm not here for me I'm here for this stupid idiot here.

He says okay.

Good Kretsky. I knew he'd understand. He was also really understanding last year when we broke up. He knew that it wasn't me, it was him. So understanding. Great guy.

Somehow while Anna is getting treated for her overdose on kpop, another person walks in and so apparently we weren't the only ones to find the nurse's office. The person that walks in is none other than Jenevieve Winters, who has a blonde bun that sits on her head like a beehive. We dated briefly as well, but just like with Anna we share no awkward feelings between the two of us.

Jenevieve sits down in the waiting chairs next to me. She pokes me with a pencil, asking, "HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO TAKE" in a not-whisper.

I give her a good whisper back. "I DON'T KNOW MAYBE LIKE TEN MINUTES?"

"OH," she says, not even trying to whisper anymore. "WHAT HAPPENED TO ANNA?"

"SHE GOT HOOKED ON KPOP OVER THE SUMMER AND IS APPARENTLY EXPERIENCING WITHDRAWAL OR OVERDOSE OR you know what I don't even know at this point."

We stop talking, and just watch Anna, watch her make a fool of herself as Nurse Kretsky asks her to walk in a straight line, or read an eyechart or some other random test. I catch out of the corner of my eye something that makes me a bit uncomfortable. Jenevieve licks her lips. WTF? OH NO DON'T TELL ME THAT SHE'S INTO ANNA. DON'T TELL ME THAT IT IS SO. PLEASE NO NO NO ANYTHING BUT THIS

BUT I JUST SHIP IT SO HARD AT THE SAME TIME

No, I wouldn't say "ship."

This isn't a ship that I support.

This is a freaking navy.

And I will support this all the way, every day, all day.

THE NAVY HAS SAILED IT IS TIME TO START THE CONQUEST

I WILL DO ANYTHING I HAVE TO TO GET THIS COUPLE TOGETHER

ANYTHING

And then Ashley walks in, and she immediately goes over to Jenevieve and sits next to her and hugs her. She pulls her into a kiss, but Jenevieve seems a bit inattentive. Seems like she's watching Anna.

HMMMMMM

NOPE STILL SUPPORTING ANNA AND JENEVIEVE

ASHLEY YOU CAN GO EFF YOURSELF

STAY OUT STAY OUT STAY OUT

I KNOW WE USED TO DATE BUT NO I WON'T LET YOU DO THIS

YOU WON'T RUIN MY OTP I WON'T LET YOU

2: BLEACH ROOMS

BLEACH ROOMS

CHAPTER TWO: BLEACH ROOMS

And so when everything was said and done, all four of us started walking to first period together. Nurse Kretsky gave us passes so shhh don't worry about it. I tug Ashley aside and motion for Jenevieve and Anna to go on without us. I'm always doing weird things so they don't really question it. Once they're out of sight I hold Ashley by the collar and shove her into the locker.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"What's my problem?" She sounds so confused, as if she doesn't even understand.

How do you not understand Jenna. JenevievexAnna. Ship name. Couple. OTP.

Wait. Ashley doesn't know any of this yet. Ashley is

OMG SECRETS ARE FLYING AROUND IN THE AIR LIKE BULLETS OR BEES OR SOME OTHER RANDOM ANALOGY. THIS IS GETTING INTERESTING, YES IT IS.

Should I tell Ashley, or should I not? Hmm...

"Oh, it's nothing," I smile sickly-sweetly at her. She's disturbed beyond words, and when I let go of her shirt she runs away. A lot of people do that too. I don't take it personally. Wait. Maybe I should. But my mommy tells me I'm a happy child and that everybody loves me and that I'm real special on the inside. And so naturally everyone should be my friend and not run away from me. Maybe everyone in this school is weird. I have no idea wtf is going on in my mind.

Crap we're by the bleach rooms aren't we. Toxic chemicals are melting my brain.

Why do we have bleach rooms in this school?

What even is a bleach room?

(Answer: They're the old abandoned chemistry rooms that were shut down but never cleaned after a huge explosion including bleach... and Naomi. Poor, poor Naomi. She was too young. Too young for that. Dear God, she wasn't even fifteen yet. She didn't deserve to have that happen to her. It isn't fair)

SHUT UP BRAIN

NAOMI WAS A NICE PERSON AND ALL BUT WE HAD A TERRIBLE BREAK UP

TERRIBLE

AND MAYBE SHE DESERVES WHAT SHE GOT HUH

wait crap no sorry naomi i'm really sorry

please forgive me

(THE DEAD CAN'T FORGIVE)

brain i said SHUT UP

(k)

omg

So I ignore my brain all the way to my actual chemistry room, the one with the teacher named Mr. Denver, and I walk right in and strut all my imagined stuff. I mean stuff. Just stuff. Leave off the imagined part. I have stuff I have stuff I have stuff.

Walking into that classroom was just really weird. You know that feeling where you walk into a room and recognize every face because you've dated them all? That's the feeling I had.

Well, I would be lying if I said "them all."

There's two people in there I haven't dated yet. One, Sarah Putty. Two, Brendan Bote. They're not officially dating yet but they're pretty much a thing. And I just ship them so hard that there's no way in hell that I would ever break up such a beautiful couple. Unless, of course, I felt like it, but you know nah I don't think that'll happen ever. They're so cute together. God why can't I get a relationship like that. Instead of all these worthless ones with all the kids/faculty in school. It's like, sometimes we just don't have good chemistry (lol) together, or they're married, or both, or they're secretly a made-up identity of a sad, lonely person hiding behind their phone and pretending to be someone they're not. I would like to say I don't know someone like that, but I do and it's unfortunate.

Um.

Well. Internal monologue aside.

Sarah and I are suddenly lab partners, and Brendan gets matched with Jeffrey. Perfect. Now I have alone time with Sarah to annoy the living crap out of her and to tease her about her "not" relationship with Bote. Mwahaha things will be perfect this year I just know it.

The bell rings too soon, and suddenly we're kicked out of the room, Mr. Denver screaming at us to never come back, except for tomorrow, and I guess the days after that, but just because we have to, and not because he wants us there. Brendan, Sarah, and I all walk together to Health class, everyone third-wheeling everyone. It's an awkward phase to live in, when it's not clear who the third-wheel is. I would say me, but why the hell would I be the third-wheel in my own story. I'm the main character here, I'm the hero, why would I be the third-wheel. Honestly.

Pshh. I think too much these days, and I mark it down to being in a school. Why can't I just go crazy and start dancing through life? I know some ballet, could that work? Maybe? Ugh this is just ridiculous. We say goodbye to Brendan, who doesn't have Health class with us and instead has social studies, and Sarah and I walk to our class silently. I don't know why she's silent all I know is that she's silent. I don't give a flying eff about it.

And the teacher is nice. I guess. Her name is Mrs. Wok, and she's out in the hallway greeting us as we go in. Sarah and I sit next to each other, obviously, and the class begins.

Everything is great.

Sarah leans over to me, and whispers in my ear: "EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!"

3: SIXTEEN SQUARE FEET

SIXTEEN SQUARE FEET

AN: hey guys the author here

um so apparently some people don't know if i'm a guy or a girl or SOMETHING. well you'll find out eventually, but um to my friends out there that read this shhh you guys know what i am. um. also due to a complaint from the person portrayed by Sarah i will now be writing all her text in caps because she hates it.

ok let's rocK AND ROll ThiS JOiNt

â€‹.

CHAPTER THREE: SIXTEEN SQUARE FEET

Mardi Gras isn't happening right now, because that's in like a couple months and it's ridiculous to even be thinking about it this far in advance.

We watched a movie in Health class, because you know. Health. Class. Movies. SEX.

Jk we didn't watch a movie about SEX we watched a movie about SEX I MEAN STRESS MANAGEMENT.

Really these words just slip out. But class is over and Sarah and I be walking to the next class aka band. She plays this weird bass clarinet thing or something yeah I don't even really know anymore. We see our teacher as we walk into the 4 foot by 4 foot band room and he pulls us aside. I'm curious about what he wants to talk to me about. I mean, it can't be about our break up a couple months ago because he's talking to Sarah as well. Hmmmm HMMMMM HMMMMMMMMMMMM

IT IS A MYSTERYYY

"We're going to Orlando SHH KEEP IT A SECRET," Mr. T tells us. I dunno why he told us if it was such a big secret but anyway ORLANDO. I mean. ORLANDO. This calls for a mandatory song reference because come on ORLANDO.

I hop back to the hallway and burst out in a Andrew Rannells-esque fashion, "ORLANDOOO ORLANDOOO I LOVE YOUU ORLANDO! SEA WORLD, DISNEY, AND PUTT PUTT GOLFINGGG"

Nobody notices but when do they ever.

I head back into the bandroom to set up. I, of course, play recorder, and it's pretty darn special let me tell you. Mr. T's been yelling at me for a while to "get a real recorder" instead of my "old plastic one that I bought at the dollar store." Come on Mr. T. It's not that bad. And it only squeaks a little bit. Just. A. Little. Bit. Like. A. Rubber. Ducky.

I don't think that Mr. T appreciates the fact that I play a plastic recorder, or even a recorder in general, because that means that he has to alter all the music we play so that he can accommodate for me. A lot of pieces that we play don't already have recorder parts, which is surprising to me. I thought the recorder was a really popular instrument. I guess I was wrong. And I guess that's the reason why I'm the only recorderist in the band. Wow I am a UNIQUE person, aren't I.

SUCH UNIQUE

SO RECORDER

Out of the corner of my eye I see Anna with her damn saxophone. Dammit god dammit I just really hate saxophones. They kill me inside. They're like the serial killers of instruments, like the Jack the Ripper of criminals. Nobody likes them, nobody respects them, and everybody just wants them to freaking GO AWAY. And they're the only section of the band that even sounds good, which makes us all look bad. So it's kind of self explanatory why we hate them, I guess. Unless you're dense, in which case I don't understand why you're even reading this.

I'M THE MAIN CHARACTER SO I REFOCUS THE ATTENTION ON ME. Wait crap it's slipping over to my stand partner, who's suspiciously named India. AND SOMEHOW NOT FROM INDIA. FREAKING SUSPICIOUS, I TELL YOU. VERY SUSPICIOUS CRAP HERE.

She looks like a slutty Von Trapp child. SORRY andrew SORRY SORRY SORRY IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN

But anyway she does look like a slutty Von Trapp child. I'm not saying that to be mean, I'm saying that because I care. But what does it matter? We broke up ages ago - and unlike most of my other ex's, she actually got a new significant other. (kk side note here is significant other looks completely like sig other or sig fig which is totally creppy and spoopy) IS MY MIND TALKING AGAIN

I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP

(k)

YOU SAID THAT LAST TIME

(es broma)

? ? ? ?

I don't understand why my mind knows (some) spanish, whereas I know, hmm maybe like NOTHING. Just kidding I'm absolutely perfect. ES BROMA ES BROMA ES BROMA wow that's three I think they cancel themselves out or something.

Back to the story, because somehow I got off topic talking to my brain. India is going out with Jared, who is actually part dolphin and has gills on his neck. It's really weird but nobody asks him about it. And yes he is part dolphin. No he is not a merman. That would mean he's part fish.

WAIT DOLPHINS ARE FISH

! ! ! !

My life has entered that point where it's about to exclaim the periodic table in one gasp but I'm not at that point yet. The point I'm reaching is that it's too damn small in this 16 square foot band room and we need to get another room in the school because this is just ridiculous I mean we have like eighty thousand kids in this band and only 16 square feet. It's stupid, and this is a problem that needs to be changed.

I nudge India, and tell her my thoughts exactly. She is too busy being faux Indian so I nudge nudge Aubrey. She's real down with it, so we begin plotting. It takes about five minutes of planning until we realize that OH MAYBE WE NEED TO RAISE MONEY OR SOMETHING.

AND HOW BETTER TO RAISE MONEY THAN TO DO A FUNDRAISER

A COOKIE DOUGH FUNDRAISER HMMM?

just kidding that's stupid. Instead, Aubrey's dumb ex Ryan comes over and suggests that we do a candy bar fundraiser. He suggests that we could do what Spongebob and Patrick did in that one episode, except not fall for a customer's ploy to sell crap to us. We agree with him that that's a great/gr8 idea and then he walks away. We glare at him in angry silence because come on he's still Aubrey's ex and it's our duty to be mad at him even if everyone knew the relationship WAS A FAILURE FROM THE START AND THEY NEVER SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN TOGETHER BECAUSE THEY ARE SO EFFING INCOMPATIBLE THAT IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE. RYAN YOU BASTARD YOU MADE MY FRIEND AUBREY SAD

But Aubrey got over it quick so it's k now

After band, we ignore the fact that we did nothing during that class and we all walk together. All of us. Sarah. Bote. Anna. Aubrey. Symmer. Wait Symmer's walking with us that's a first. She usually does her whole loner thing and stuck up thing where she walks to class by herself because she thinks she's so much better than everyone else. Um, news flash Symmer: I AM THE BEST I AM THE ALMIGHTY I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA I AM PERFECT

That may have been slightly unnecessary. Then again, it might not.

I tell Sarah about what Aubrey and I were planning and she seems down with it too. "WOW BARBIE WOW THAT'S A GREAT IDEA"

...I said 'seems' because that sounded a bit forced and sarcastic.

SHE'S ALWAYS LIKE THAT GOD SARAH I CAN'T TELL NOTHING WITH YOU

I CAN'T

EVEN

I CAN'T EVEN

HEAR

MYSELF

think

4: POP ESSAY

POP ESSAY

CHAPTER FOUR: POP ESSAY

Magically it's fifth period, and I'm wondering where in the world all the time went. Honestly this is just getting buttersnapping weird. Almost as weird as the word 'buttersnapping.' But what even is 'buttersnapping?' I have a feeling it's something like when you put a stick of butter in the microwave, and it starts to melt and all of a sudden it POPS and BUBBLES and yeah I think that's what buttersnapping is. New word of my, your, his, her, everyone's vocabulary now. But I digress. I digress a lot.

There's an announcement on the speaker, foretelling the future and saying that a baby is born on October 7, 2014. It's my last year's spanish teacher's wife's baby, and I hope they choose one of the names I suggested: Caligula, Xerxes, or Artaxerxes. I know he said no names that start with 'A' but you know what Artaxerxes is a really good name and if you don't like that name then um I guess you can just use Bucephalus? I guess.

HEY THAT RHYMED
FOR NOW RHYME OR REASON

Stop it now

So I'm sitting in English class, watching Mr. Chester walk around and give a speech about life and six word memoirs and podcasts. I've got Symmer sitting next to me, and Bea the annoying little brat who ruined everything last year (stay tuned, more on this subject later, ladies and gentlemen) is sitting next to Ally right across from me. It's um a weird class set up. Four desks turned in to each other and placed like squares around the room. I feel like I'm in kindergarten again. That's the best way I know of to describe it to you. Mr. Chester drones on. He has the voice of a person who likes to bike.

I've never dated Mr. Chester before, which is strange because I've dated like everyone - oh wait just kidding! Turns out I did. The relationship didn't last long though. Maybe like two minutes or something? Before I got kicked out of the teacher's lounge. Yeah.

Mr. Chester is perhaps gay. Nobody really knows, but everybody kind of actually cares. In the words of my friend and ex-girlfriend Camilla, "he's the school's most eligible bachelor." I mean. Except for the part where he's married. And kind of frightening. He's scary how amiable he is. Literally he walked up to me when I walked in the door and was like "So how was your summer? Did you save the world or anything?"

WHAT THE HELL

\\.RAGE QUITS ELA

SO DONE WITH

THIS

And because this is a story, and apparently everything goes oh so quickly in stories, the bell rings, and we all jump up from our seats and run out the door as quickly as we can. Mr. Chester isn't a bad guy. He's just kind of scary. He has one of the faces that can haunt your nightmares if you look at it too long. Trust me, it's happened. If you don't believe me, just check out his facebook page. The url is:

OH WAIT SORRY GUYS NOT GONNA DO THAT

NAMES AND oops just names HAVE BEEN CHANGED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT

So k guys you'll never find him by typing in Mr. Chester.

Not that would work anyway, because I've tried.

I digress, once more. SO TO GET US BACK ON TRACK let me tell you about our wonderful principal! So our principal is this awesome guy who everyone loves and respects because he's just so great and absolutely not annoying at all. He just absolutely doesn't make you want to stab your eyeballs out whenever he makes an announcement over the loudspeaker because he just absolutely doesn't start talking over it at random times. God all these lies are just killing me NO MR. SLETTA IS THE MOST ANNOYING MAN ALIVE HE LITERALLY JUST GOES ON THE LOUDSPEAKER AND TALKS ABOUT HIS LIFE AND WHAT THE DAYS OF THE WEEK MEAN AND HOW WE ARE ALL THE NINETY NINE PERCENT AND THAT THERE'S THIS ONE PERCENT OF US THAT'S GIVING THE SCHOOL A BAD RAP BECAUSE THEY'RE THE TROUBLEMAKERS

WHAT

areyoukiddingme WHAT

And that is enough Mr. Sletta backstory, because before I know it I'm at the door of my AP World History room, walking in, walking in, walking in

Mister Doctor Professor Michael is our teacher. He's super fancy because he has a PhD in African Studies. It's ridiculous, I know, for a guy like him to be teaching in a horrible public school like ours, and I have a feeling he looks at himself in the mirror each morning and asks the question WHY ten times before kissing the mirror goodbye and good luck. I'm convinced that that is what he does.

But Mister Doctor Professor Michael is a great guy, and he's one of the only teachers that I like. Except for one thing.

"POPPPPP ESSAYYYY," he flings the essays around him like confetti. We stare at him in shock, in awe, in stupefaction. He's serious.

It's the first day of school. And already a pop essay.

He hands the first paper to Gabby Weatherwax (who btw is sitting right next to Jenevieve who FOR SOME REASON isn't sitting next to Anna. Come on guys get your act together. My ship is sailing and if you guys aren't going to add fuel to it then WHAT IS LIFE ANYMORE) and he gives her this "srynotsry" look and just about everyone in the class looks like they're about to stand up and punch him in the face.

Except Raissa. She looks happy.

F U RAISSA I DIDN'T STUDY F U

I stare at my paper.

5: DEEP PUDDLE

DEEP PUDDLE

CHAPTER FIVE: DEEP PUDDLE

It feels like every night that I go to bed, there's a spider crawling on my face.

But we're not there yet.

We're back in sixth period, where I'm sweating it out, trying to piece together SOMETHING that might be acceptable for me to write in my essay. It's a dumb topic. And by dumb I mean extremely difficult and oh goodness oh goodness I'm loosing my marbles. I try the technique where you cry on the test and choose the answer closest to where the tears fall. It doesn't work. Of course it doesn't. That only works for multiple choice tests. Dammit. I read over the essay topic again.

OUR ESSAY QUESTION: Trade routes and networks have linked different regions of the world. Choose one of the following trade routes and explain how interaction with other regions developed the region (in the choice you make below) between 1000-1500CE.
-Trans-Saharan Gold-for-Salt Trade - Mali
-Scandinavia-to-Constantinople

I contemplate raising my hand and just saying "EXCUSE YOU MISTER DOCTOR PROFESSOR MICHAEL BUT I REFUSE TO TAKE THIS EXAM THIS IS A HORRIFYING EXAMPLE OF TRYING TO TEST ME ON THINGS THAT I'M SUPPOSED TO KNOW BUT DON'T AND WE ALL KNOW I'M JUST GOING TO FAIL THIS THING SO WHY SHOULD I BOTHER EVEN WRITING THIS THING COME ON" but I don't. And I just wing the entire essay. I feel pretty bad about it. It sucked.

It actually, really, gosh darnedly sucked.

So we skip on down to math class afterwards, where Mrs. Nem is teaching. I had her last year as my Computer Programming teacher and she was a b

Well anyway we enter her class after side stepping Mr. Sletta in the hallway. Mr. Sletta has this horrible habit of getting in my way, all the time, every time. I swear one day I'm going to punch him with a brick. Ahhh oh God I don't know why I keep saying that! It's crayzay. CRAY CRAY CRAYZAY. Oh wow oh wow AND NOW I'M STEVE JOBS oops a dead person joke NOT FUNNY NOT FUNNY

NOT FUNNY

I almost slam my brick-fist into Mrs. Nem's face but I manage to hold back. I have a lot of, um, pent-up anger against her, you could say. Like. A lot. She's a nice person, down in the black hole that she likes to call her heart, but she's just a really sucky teacher overall and that makes me hate her. Because seriously if you can't teach then. What. Are you doing here. Really. I take a seat anywhere because I know she's just gonna go batshit crazy on us anyway. AHH BAD WORD ALERT AHH

Mrs. Nem has a strange name, and we (and by we I mean I) like to call her Mrs. No because you know what foreign languages are the bomb. It's like if her name was Mrs. Igen (or for some reason spelled wrong and written as Mrs. Egan or something) we'd call her Mrs. Yes. It's all about the languages and you know what I need to stop write here write now and write away because I'm just an open book write now literally and I need to stop.

I want ice cream.

I want chocolate.

Well Barbie you can have your desserts in an hour just wait until this period and next period are over and you can go home is that okay? No of course it's not okay but okay? Okay. Okay. Okay. EVERYTHING'S COMING UP, WATERS! No this isn't supposed to be a time to quote The Fault in Our Stars by a particular John Green that should have stuck to his crash course videos on YouTube. THIS ISN'T ABOUT A ROCK STAR NAMED TOMMY GNOSIS. Okay really this is getting annoying. Stop it with all the references Stop it SToP iT

Hello my name is Barbie and I would like to explain everything to you.

Wouldn't that have been a great way to start this all. Like starting an essay with the words, "Hello, my name is (insert full name) and I will be telling you about (topic)." Lame but gets the point across. Oh and on an unrelated note my ear hurts? And so does my arm? Does that make sense? DOES THAT MEAN I'M POSSESSED BY DEMONS?

or the devil

Either or.

So. In math class. Officially it's called Algebra II and Trigonometry but shh we don't care about that type of stuff. We call it math. It's like how everyone calls me Barbie, even though that's not my name, and nobody knows it or cares or gives a flying monkey's tail about it. (FLYING MONKEY'S TAIL MORE LIKE MUSIC-PLAYING MONKEY'S CYMBAL badoom CHH oh nobody got the reference oops this is why I shouldn't put these references in. anyway) Sometimes I wonder if I know my own name, so I mumble it to myself just to make sure I haven't forgotten it. It'd be easy to do so.

WOW THE PUDDLE JUST GOT DEEP

Well are you surprised? Wait no no no I was going to use Fiyero's line here but that won't work. Um. Whatever I'll just say it anyway DEEP DEEP DOWN I'M VERY SHALLOW

DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME DEEP AGAIN

I guess?

Man I dunno. I've wasted the whole period, and Anna's got this weird expression on her face and suddenly I realize she's been sitting next to me the whole time. I ask her what's the matter, she says oh nothing much, and what do you know Camilla whirls around spraying her Pocahontas hair everywhere. "OH MY GOODNESS ANNA WHAT'S THE MATTER JUST TELL US ALREADY"

Because we all know drama when we smell it. Anna's weak, so she gives in. "Okay so you know that guy Otto I liked? Well when I asked him if we were going to talk about what happened last year, he said NO and totally ignored me!"

Quick tip: Anna totally had the hots for this guy Otto last year, and then totally asked him out, and then he totally rejected her. And I totally laughed. Totally.

So. I guess she needs to get over Otto. I guess that's the current plan.

FINally this SToRy haS a PLoT

I pick her hand up and roll it into a fist, which I bump with my own. Fist bump. Yeah. "ANNA WE'RE GONNA DO SOMETHING TO GET YOU OVER OTTO K"

The bell rings before she comes up with an answer. She's a slow person so it really isn't that surprising.

6: E-BROAD

E-BROAD

Yo estoy cansada.

It's hard for me to write in Spanish, namely because I have a limited vocabulary and it isn't my first language. My first language is Yugoslavian, which is a lie, because Yugoslavian isn't a real language, and also my first language is English. That explains why I'm so great at speaking English, and writing it, whereas Anna Jogy is not. Her first language is Malayalam, and she sucks at both languages anyway. Whenever people support teaching kids two languages during childhood I always use her as an example of what will and can go wrong. She's a horrible example, though, because she's defected, but it doesn't matter as long as people don't realize that.

I step through the door to Spanish class, and somehow there's this great gust of wind that makes it feel like there might be a hurricane inside the classroom. One, two, three more steps and I prove that that idea is false. There's no hurricane, or rain, to blacken the cloudy skies that are not in the classroom.

OOH LOOK AT ME USING DESCRIPTIVE LANGUAGE

((OOH LOOK AT ME ON BROADWAY
WELL
MORE LIKE EAST OF BROADWAY
EAST-BROADWAY
E-BROAD
UM
WELCOME TO E-BROAD EVERYONE))

how many TIMES DO I have To TEll yOU

SToP QuOtInG HEdwIg AnD ANdREw RAnNeLlS

((but he's bae))

stop

STOP

stop

Okay now that that's settled let's keep going.

My seat is perf, my hair is fly, and everything is swell. I mean, except for the fact that I'm in a classroom in a mediocre school that I don't care about. Also Principal Sletta is major annoying and needs to get out of my FACE. Well he's not in my FACE right now but that's all kay kay because one day he will be and that'll be the day I punch him with a brick.

With my right hand, of course, because I'm right-handed, and also because my left hand has all these Gnasty cuts on it from this porcupine. Long story short: I was picking some flowers the other day for my flower-pressing collection when this random porcupine came along and attacked me. Or I attacked it. It really depends on who's telling the story. In my opinion, that porcupine attacked me. I totally did not start the fight, because I'm not a ridiculous buffoon who doesn't understand that a PORCUPINE HAS SHARP POISONOUS NEEDLES ON IT

Porcupines do not really have poisonous needles. It's more like. Sharp needles coated with Ebola.

(("WHITE PEOPLE BE LIKE "OH NO I THINK I MIGHT HAVE ABUELA"))

Wow good one brain. Offensive white people jokes. Well anyway transition back to real-life Spanish class yayyy. Just kidding I'm not actually happy if I was happy about that I would have capitalized the 'yayyy' and made it 'Yayyy' or 'YAYYY' or something. I dunno. So anyway, I be walking in, and Anna's behind me, and we just talk at her desk and wait for Gabby and Sarah to come in since they're in our class. Gabby takes absolutely forever even though she just had Mrs. Nem's class with us. I think she takes so long because she goes to her locker between every class. Pshh. What a freshman. Froshmen. So frosh.

My sister likes to say that Anna's her favorite freshman, which is fitting because she acts and dresses like one.

I don't say these things to be mean, I say them only to tell the truth.

I'm not even sorry, Anna Jogy, and I'm telling you that because I know you're reading this.

You, too, Gabby. And Camilla. And Raissa. And maybe Jenevieve but I dunno if you even read. This. I know you read. Just maybe not this.

Who else reads this.

I do.

I read this.

I like reading this in my free time, on like weekends where I'm feeling downright tired or don't feel like practicing piano or flute, or on weekday nights when I'm feeling upset about my lame flower-pressing hobby which is just so lame that I don't even. Like. Tell people about it. Except here. Pressing flowers is lame, and you shouldn't do it. Once you start you can't stop. Except if your grandma dies. But, um, more on that later. It's a very complicated subject that needs to be explained in full detail or else you don't even understand what the hell is going on. But trust me. It all makes sense. Everything will come together at the end.

OH WHO AM I JKING NOTHING HERE MAKES SENSE

((just gonna be honest here i almost made a "ghost" joke here but decided against it))

((just gonna be honest here it wasn't gonna be a ghost joke))

So Spanish class.

Let me explain a couple things to you.

My grandmother, not the one the passed away VIOLENTLY and SUDDENLY but the one who's still ALIVE and WARM and FUZZY and likes baking POGACSA for us, has this thing with her eye that makes it droooop. There's nothing she can do about it so she just lets it be and visits the optometrist every so often. She rocks her eye and is proud and happy. It makes her who she is insiiiiiiiiiddddddeeeeeeeeee

mulan

So anyway Mrs. EAGLE is like my grandmother, fashion sense and everything. I'm prrretty sure Mrs. EAGLE had a brain tumor or two but not certain. I've learned not to trust a lot of what my mother says.

Mrs. EAGLE stands at the front of the class, left eye drooping as she smiles at us and tells us with a thick Spanish accent, "Welcome to Eighth Period!"

I don't feel ashamed to admit that I all but fell asleep right away. Zoned out, more like it. Thought about more purposeful things. Such as, "When do we go home," "When can I leave," and "How do I fix the Anna/Otto issue. How how how how HOW." PRACTICAL. QUESTIONS.

Mrs. EAGLE has these beautiful red curls that I'm secretly super jealous of because when I was younger I always wanted to be a redhead because my favorite MyScene character had red hair. I also always wanted curly hair because Shakira and that's it. Mrs. EAGLE's hair is short, like Hedwig's wig during Exquisite Corpse GOSH DARN IT I SAID STOP WITH THE REFERENCES ALREADY but it helps with the point I'm trying to make so so what I'm still a rock star. Anyway. Mrs. EAGLE's hair is short like Hedwig's wig during Exquisite Corpse, except it's much curlier, and redder, and also it's not the movie version it's the Neil Patrick Harris On Broadway version.

If that helps.

She's short. Shorter than me. Which isn't really saying much because I'm like 5'8" and that's pretty tall considering the fact that the people I usually hang around with are like 5'4" or something. At least it seems like they are. They might be like 5'7" or something. Actually I think I'm 5'7". Um I need to go measure my height brb. This is something that seriously needs to be found out because otherwise I might write down a lie. AS IF I HAVEN'T LIED TO ALL OF YOU ENOUGH.

It's 5'7.75". Close enough.

Anyways. The last five minutes of class suddenly come, and Anna being the stupid idiot and UGH that she is decides to ask Mrs. EAGLE if she can go to the band room early to pick up her instrument because life and getting to the school bus on time and crowded hallways. The excuse doesn't make much sense but Mrs. EAGLE takes it. Naturally, Gabby, Sarah, and I all get up and follow suit because come on if she gets to leave class early then all of us get to leave class early. Naturally stays back because Mrs. EAGLE yells at him.

Naturally isn't a person, but that one sentence sure did make him seem like one.

We're in the hallways now, and Sarah's lagging behind because of her asthma and wow she's such a lame ball of success lately. I mean that in the most loving way possible. I'm kidding.

Okay.

In.

THe.

HALLWAY

SCHOOL'S OUT SCHOOL'S OUT YAY YAYAYAYAY TIME TO GO HOME SCHOOL'S OUT

We walk and talk all the way down to the band locker room, where we remind ourselves suddenly that WOW it's time to go home. And since it's a Thursday, there's only one day left in the week. And since it's the First Day of School, we have no homework. Emphasis on :we: since our parents still have homework SUCK IT MOMMY AND DADDY BWAHAHA

Yes. Yes I do still call my parents Mommy and Daddy.

I take too much pride in that fact.

We all walk out of the school quickly, but together, with Sarah only lagging behind SLIGHTLY now, and we peel off from the group one at a time as we pass by each person's bus. I am Stall Number One, other people are Stall Number Fourteen, or Picked Up By My Mom Even Though I Live Five Minutes From the School, or Staying After School With No Idea Why I Just Walked Out Here With You Guys Since I Have To Go Back Inside Now. It's obvious who's who.

I take my golden throne bus-seat, wait patiently for my sister to come on, and sleep.

something's missing

7: HORROR MOVIE

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