Here it is. Part 2 of What If It All Means Something. Sorry it’s not too long, but I’m busy with school and it takes me a while to edit my writing. I could’ve posted it unedited…but that would’ve been garbage. The really bad, smelly kind of garbage. Well, I hope you enjoy!
What If It All Means Something Part 2
Gold Beach Senior High was a little bit smaller than most schools. It was a brown, stone building with a parking lot on one side, a field on a the other, and a set of large doors atop a wide stone staircase of half a dozen or so steps was front and center on the building. Basically, just like every other school, and it looked just as boring, lame and so not cool.
There was a group of guys smoking in the parking lot, a couple girls sitting beside each other one of the front steps and a several more laughing and talking around the bike rack out front. As I approached the school, I felt as if everyone’s eyes were on me. Watching the new kid. In a town this small and a school with fewer students than my entire Grade Eleven class, of course they knew who everyone was. Everyone except me.
Now they’re all staring at me like I’m some Goddamn freak show in a circus. I shouldn’t have come here. Not today. Look at these morons – how could I possibly ever think to make any friends here?
I passed the group by the bike rack and, as soon as I did, I heard not-so quiet whispers accompanied by not-so inconspicuous laughter. Great. What a way to end the summer. It’s bad enough I have to go to this stupid school-
“How do you like Gold Beach?”
My mind froze for a minute, everything kind of stopped. I had to make sure that the question was directed at me. When I looked over to who asked it, I saw a lone girl rising from one of the steps where she had been sitting and reading a book. Usually, if a girl’s into books, she gets crossed off my ‘list’, but there was something about her. She had straight, brown hair, an ordinary face without any make up and dark glasses resting on her little nose. Her blue jeans and green blouse were rather plain. Overall, she looked normal. Yet, there was something-
“You’re not an exchange student, are you?” she asked me, dropping the book from her hands into her shoulder bag.
“Me?” I asked, placing a finger on my chest.
“No, that dude beside you,” she said with an innocent smile on her face. It took me a minute to realize she was being sarcastic.
“Oh, yeah…funny.” Funny? That’s the best reply I have, really? Who is this girl anyway…she seems like a total nerd. I’d probably fit in much better with those good-looking guys and their hot girlfriends in the parking lot. So then, why do I suddenly feel so nervous? Must be the new school.
“So, you gonna answer me, city boy?” she said, her smile fading into a look of curiosity.
“Yes to the first and no to the second,” I replied, getting my thoughts in order. I looked back at the guys in the parking lot, with their cigarettes and ‘don’t give a shit’ attitudes. They were all staring back at me as if they were scientists and I was some lab experiment gone wrong. I quickly turned back to look at the girl. “So, how’s this hell hole?” I noticed, just for a second, a momentary flinch in her eye as if she was taken aback by what I said. Okay, miss goody-two shoes, it was just ‘hell’.
“Why do you keep looking at those guys over there?” she asked me. I could tell, by the look on her face, she was trying to read me.
“They seem kind of decent,” I said, not sure how to reply.
“Oh,” she said, glancing over at them. “I would stay away from them,” she advised. “They’re into drugs and other stuff.”
“Ah,” I said, feeling a little awkward. Who cares about drugs? Everyone has their own ways of having fun, and it’s all about having fun. Not for this chick, though. I guess she must be the teacher’s pet. I wanted to say thanks for the advice and walk away, but what came out was: “What’s your name?”
What the hell? She’s clearly not my type. She looks like she doesn’t know how to have fun…probably doesn’t drink. What am I doing? First day of school and I’m talking with one of those losers I didn’t want to meet. So why is it so hard for me to just walk away?
She looked at me for a moment, and then the smile returned to her face. “Laura. What’s yours?”
Not the end
Thanks for reading.
- Perspective – Chapters 2, 3 and 4 (allmeanssomething.wordpress.com)
- What’s On Your Bookshelf? (allmeanssomething.wordpress.com)
- Advice From Mommy & Daddy (allmeanssomething.wordpress.com)
- What If It All Means Something – Part 1 (allmeanssomething.wordpress.com)