Читать книгу Inanimate Heroes - Zack W. Van - Страница 5

Boom, boom, boom; my heart could probably be heard from miles around. Where could I sit without instant rejection? I was the organ transplant and my only hope was that the student body wouldn’t reject me. There were a few tables where I would see an opening, but then the seats all too abruptly closed as the musical chairs game from hell ensued.

All I had to do was sit with one table with a majority of friends or nice people. Then it was virtually my seat to have for the remainder of the year; or at least until second semester started. After finally spotting my best friend, I made haste to grab her attention. Apparently she had met some nice new friends. Spectacular, she did all of the hard work. All I had to do was associate myself with her and act politely.

As I sat down, I noticed that it was a rather miss-match of a crowd. There was a very skinny girl with a thick layer of knowledge and education about her. She had thick glasses and usually right in front of them, there was a text book. Then there was a boy who she would occasionally speak with if he just happened to speak first. He would also claim to have all this homework that needed to be done, yet I had never seen him work on anything. Then there were my new-found friends. Unfortunately, as I sat down, they stood up to get their hot food. I myself was not too enthralled with the idea of eating at a time when my heart felt the need to break through my ribcage. Then, out of nowhere, homework boy initiates a conversation.

“How’s your first day of being a freshy?” My initial reaction was to say something witty. But all I did was smile and sigh, as if the stress had finally popped my insides and they were releasing the built up energy that was stored.

“Ah don’t worry too much about it. At least you’re not as annoying as most of the freshman.”

Annoying? How do freshman have any time to be annoying when there is all this worrying to be done? I finally thought up a sentence to say.

“Well thanks. At least I have that going for me.” If only it sounded as polite as it did in my head. I scrambled for a way to dilute the words and make a nicer sounding follow up.

“At least I don’t have too much homework yet.” The sentence worked as a double edged sword. I didn’t feel awkward about the first sentence anymore, but now it opened up the floodgates for his view on homework and why it should be banned from schools.

Like a galloping brigade, my saviors from the lunch room had arrived. My best friend Faye had made some friends with a couple girls from her classes. One girl was a friendly girl with a very noticeable lisp. She later showed me that it was because she had pierced her own tongue. Her mother wouldn’t let her get it pierced so she did it herself and got an infection. That’ll show her to tell her what to do. The second girl was slightly larger, but was also very sweet and kind. She seemed like the type that would drop herself into a puddle so people could walk on top of her and avoid getting wet.

As they all began to eat their food, the conversation began. The girl with the infected tongue, whom I later learned was Brittney, apparently had a crush on a boy in front of us. He would shoot glances at her with that little smirk on the side of his mouth and she would smile and even wink. All I could think of was what I wouldn’t give to be able to just walk up to a guy I like and flirt without worrying about a cross being burned on my lawn. Then the conversation shifted, and like a giant expanding bubble, I was involved.

“So what do you think Andy?” I quickly looked around and tried to act as if the name didn’t belong to me; like I was objecting her field of vision toward some other person.

“Yeah he’s ok, I mean I don’t really look at guys that way but, yeah he’s alright.” I instantly felt a laser beam shoot at me from Faye. I had come out to her in about 6^th grade and she knew full well that I look at guys that exact way. I felt as if I had betrayed her and myself by constantly denying it to everyone. “

Oh-” Britney realized that she made a mistake as if she had called me by the wrong name as I originally thought. “-right why would I ask another guy that? How about you Faye?” Suddenly the spotlight that burned my cheeks was averted towards a more expecting recipient.

“He is cute and I can see him giving you the eye a lot.” The very sweet girl seemed to have some sort of reflective qualities because she managed to stay out of the conversation altogether. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the boy that Britney was so enthralled with begin to walk towards our direction. What if he heard her ask me how he looked? Would he get suspicious that I had been asked or would he be pissed off that I didn’t feign interest towards him? I looked down at my feet as if I had never seen the shoes I was wearing.

“Sup Britney,” he said as he strut over to her and flipped his hair all at the same time. Britney pulled off the act of being casual like a pro.

“Hey Kevin! So I heard that you and Emily aren’t together anymore. That’s such a shame.” She pouted her lips and everything to complete the effect.

“Yeah well it’s for the best. She was so controlling.” The bell abruptly rang and cut off the conversation. Faye got up and said she had class somewhere way out of the way of where I was going. I asked desperately if any of the girls were going to 256. They all shook their heads and wished me the best of luck for finding where I was going. Once again I walked to class by myself.

I finally arrived 2 minutes late to room 256. Mrs. Stout was apparently my new biology teacher. It seemed to me that she had everything going for her. She was pretty, obviously intelligent, and she was very proud to be from the hustle and bustle of New York City. I sat down and realized that there were some kids that I knew from previous classes and even from my old grade school.

Today we were playing some kind of get-to-know-you game where you had to remember the students name and then an alliteration for their name. The concept of the game didn’t quite make sense to me. Remembering that Tara took tomatoes to Troy’s tree-house didn’t really seem to assimilate me into the group. But what was important was that Mrs. Stout was at least a person with a fun side.

Suddenly it was my turn. Andy ate all apples around Alaska. Snickers ensued as they did with everyone else’s and I felt more at ease. Soon the game was over and we all had to choose seating arrangements. I always hated when I was in a class with kids I didn’t know and they made us choose a seat or a partner. At least if the teacher made us sit together and the kid didn’t like me, I could pretend like I couldn’t stand him either and that I was “stuck” with him. Everyone began to sit down and I sat down with the jackpot. She was quite possibly the sweetest and most effervescent girl you could ever meet. She reminded me of Meg Ryan because she would scrunch her face every time she laughed or smiled, as if a bright light was being shinned into her eyes.

“Hey there! How are you today?” With the way she said it, I almost expected her to shake my hand and tell me to vote for her in the next election. I smiled; half from relief that she was so nice and half from the fact that her kindness was infectious.

“I’m doing pretty good; and you?”

“Well I am sorta annoyed that my schedule got changed. But I guess I can just take foods next year.” Ah the ever elusive foods and family management class. So many kids had tried to sign up for that class assuming it was an easy A, just like gym or shop. I actually liked cooking and hoped to be in it next year.

“Aside from all that though I’m just fine.” She was like a girl out of Better Homes and Gardens. My head was instantly flooded of her having a photo shoot; holding a glazed ham in one hand and a flower pot full of roses in the other. Suddenly the bell rang and she said something funny about getting lost and skipping the rest of the day’s classes. Mrs. Stout told us to have a nice day and to bring our newly acquired and heavy books tomorrow. That could only mean one thing; a text book scavenger hunt. Maybe Betty homemaker had a good idea after all.

Luckily for me, my next class was directly parallel with Mrs. Stout’s room. I sat down and threw my book-bag under my desk of choice. This was a class that I assumed I would like. I was always into politics and loved keeping up with everything that was going on in the world. Even though Civics class was required for freshman to pass on to sophomore year, it was ironically called an elective. The girl next to me was enthralled with whatever book she was reading but then looked up at me and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Lauren.” I introduced myself and then I noticed Pink Floyd lyrics on her binder.

“Wow you like Pink Floyd? I thought I was the only kid my age who even knew what Pink Floyd was.” She smiled and her eyes flickered as if she was just awoken from hypnosis.

“No way! You too?” We began reciting all of the songs that were our favorites to listen to. She also marveled at how I loved Pink Floyd but was not a pot head, just like her. Our conversation was short lived as the teacher walked in and turned at the head of the class to address his new students. Mr. Carver was an interesting man to say the very least. He was too young to be old, but too old to be considered young. He was quite tall, had thinning grayish hair, and deep bags under his eyes. However, he had no wrinkles or signs of age in his skin. He reminded me of Anderson Cooper if he didn’t look as well put together and cool.

He addressed the class and shot out a few jokes which, to my surprise, got a few laughs. He would often make reference to the fact that he was a bachelor and lived at home by himself. He made jokes about how he ate TV dinners and burned his shirts when he ironed them. I honestly found it quite altogether sad. I always picture someone like that watching Jeopardy and knowing every bit of the trivial knowledge that made him feel important to society; even with having no family or even friends. He seemed to be a decently nice guy from what I could tell. So why couldn’t he find a girlfriend? My mind suddenly turned to suspicions of possible homosexuality. Maybe even when you’re as old as he is, you can never come out. My train of thought was broken by Mr. Carver asking me how many senators are in each state.

“There are two senators in every state and that makes up 100 in the senate all together.” I suddenly felt embarrassed sounding like such a know-it-all.

“Very good. What was your name?” Great. He is choosing to exacerbate the situation by asking me more questions I know the answer to.

“Andy.”

“Well Andy, I have a feeling you’ll be raising your hand a lot in this class.” God I really wish this guy knew when to shut-up. “That’s all the time we have for today class. Bell’s gonna ring in about 5 minutes so you can chat amongst yourselves.” Lauren turned to me as if she was waiting to speak since he first started talking.

“So you’re big into politics huh?” Aw come on Lauren. Not you too.

“Well I like to keep up with things. I don’t really think we can complain about the government if we don’t keep ourselves informed.” Lauren nodded politely but I didn’t really think she was too interested. I decided to shift the conversation back to a common ground.

“So what other music do you like?” She once again reanimated herself at the pronunciation of music.

“Well I love all of the good oldies. The Doors, The Beatles-“

“Do you like David Bowie?” Her mouth dropped as if I just shouted obscenities into the room.

“I LOOOOOVE David Bowie! I have all of his vinyls from my parents.” This was pretty awesome. I met a cool, down to earth person that likes good music in a class subject I really enjoy. I think this will be my favorite class period yet. Unfortunately the bell rang and it was time for me and my new-found friend to part ways. Now I was on to a class that I pretty much hated my entire life in grade school- Spanish. I walk into the class and I am already overwhelmed by the teacher’s enthusiasm.

“HOLA! Siéntate por favor!” About 5 people that I knew from grade school were in class with me. I quickly took a seat next to Miranda, a girl I used to sit with at lunch in 8^th grade. To my left was my childhood friend Sandy and we knew each other since kindergarten. We all began to laugh and joke about what we had gotten ourselves into. In Tomliw, you had a choice between Spanish, German, and American Sign Language. The only reason I picked Spanish was due to the fact that I was practically force-fed it since 1^st grade and figured it wouldn’t be too much of what I don’t already know.

The teacher walked in the room from the doorway singing some sort of Spanish song. “Ah Ey Ee oh oo. El burro sabe mas que tu.” I guess the Hispanic like to make fun of their kids while teaching them their vowel sounds. We all reluctantly admitted we liked the song and it stayed in our head for weeks. I was talking constantly to either Sandy or Miranda and knew that this was not a good sign.

“Silencio por favor! Levante la mana!” Even though the second part caught me off guard by not knowing what it meant, the first part sounded like she was pretty pissed so I kept my mouth shut. Mrs. Riggs seemed like a nice person overall, but I just couldn’t wait to get out of this class. The constant talking at a 300 decibel pitch was not good for my ears or the headache I had. My next class was in just five minutes and it was easily my favorite subject of any to exist. English was a class where you got to read a free book and then prove your comprehension. I wasn’t sure a topic left just for that reason was legal but I took full advantage of it. One of my favorite books, “To Kill a Mocking Bird” was in the curriculum and I was very excited to get that into my day as soon as possible. Finally, after what felt like a few years, the bell rang.

“Hasta luego!” I smiled at her and tried to hide my joy of being out of her class. My English class was right next to my 2^nd hour study hall and I was happy that I could figure it out so easily. I walked into the room and looked for a good place to sit. That was when I met one of the most influential women of my life.

“Hi! I’m Mrs. Carlisle. Go ahead and sit- well anywhere.” She laughed and I smiled at the atmosphere of the classroom. I instantly realized that this was now my new favorite class.