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Today is the first day of school. Yay. "Mom, can I just stay home from school today?" I ask before we walk out the door. I won't get into the car. "No, honey. It's the first day of school and you aren't missing it now get in the car," she says. "But Mom!" I try to protest. "No! Get in the car!" she exclaims. "Fine."
I get in the car, buckle my seat belt and fold my arms over my chest. About halfway to the school, I turn to her. "Mom, I'd like to propose a suggestion," I say. "Oh, yeah? And what's this suggestion?" she asks. "How about you homeschool me? You're such a great teacher and that school isn't near as good as you are at teaching." I smile questioningly. "Awww! No." "But, Mom!" I exclaim.
"No, Allyson, and that's final," she says pulling into the school parking lot. I sigh. "And fix your skirt. You wouldn't want boys looking," she tells me tugging at my skirt. "Okay, Mom. Bye, see you after school," I say stepping out of the car.
"Wait, Ally—" I cut her off by slamming the door shut. Then I pull out my schedule and look for my first class. "Honors English with Mr. Brown," I murmured to myself. I go to my locker, put my lunch bag in it, and hurry off to his class and sit down in the back. Hm, I love English so it shouldn't be that bad of a class. And it's honors so it won't have… him in it.
I'm glad I got here so early because I could avoid the people in the hallways. Unfortunately, walking to second period won't be so easy because I get dismissed at the same time everyone else does. Mr. Brown walks in about ten minutes later.
He doesn't notice me until he sits down. "Ah, you must be Ally," he says and I nod. "The ninth grade teachers told me that you come to class very early. May I ask why?" He seems very nice but I don't think I want to tell him.
"No reason." I shrug. "Oh, okay well you may go ahead and open your textbook to page three hundred two," he tells me smiling. I smile back and get out my English book. "Um, sir?" I say quietly walking up to his desk. "Yes, Ally?" "My textbook doesn't have that page," I say showing him how it goes from page three hundred one to page three hundred three. "Ah, I'll just give you a new one," he tells me.
I look out the door and see him. He mouths an unspeakable word and I roll my eyes. "Ally?" I hear a voice ask. "Oh, I'm sorry," I say taking the book from him and making my way back to my seat. Five minutes later, the bell rings. Everyone files in and takes their seats.
"Class, turn to page three hundred two," Mr. Brown says. I turn to the page and look it over. This lesson will be really easy since this page looks familiar to me. The period flies by… a little too quickly.
Two minutes before the bell rings, I shove my things into my bag and get ready to run. Mr. Brown turns the page but I've already read that page. He starts reading the page but is cut off by the ringing of the bell. "Read the rest of the chapter tonight for homework," he tells us. I run out the door and down the hall remembering what was next on my schedule.
I run into chemistry and see that only a few kids in here. Hopefully, they are the only other kids in my class but I would never be so lucky. I walk to the very back table and sit down. I look to the front of the classroom and see a balding teacher. I glance at my schedule. Mr. Baldwin. Ironic, isn't it? It's a joke in itself but he seems really strict.
I see a flash of messy blond hair walk through the door. No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no! Please tell me he's in the wrong class! "Mr. Baldwin?" he asks. "Yes, take your seat," Mr. Baldwin says in a rude tone.
He turns around, sees me, and smiles mischievously. No, no, no, no, no, no! I look at the chair beside me and notice that it's empty. Somebody else come sit beside me, please, I think to myself but he's already making his way to my table.
His buds follow close behind him. Yay, him and his friends are in here, I think sarcastically to myself. Blondie sits beside me and his buds sit in the table next to us. I slam my head down on the table. He takes his book bag off and sets it on the floor.
I roll my eyes. He gave me this dumb 'nickname' in seventh grade and hasn't called me Ally since. Maybe he forgot my name altogether. Who knows when it comes to Austin? "Hello, whore," he says to me. I bang my head down on the table before turning to him. "Can you kill me now?" I ask seriously. "Huh?" he asks cupping his hand around his ear.
"I think you meant 'Can I blow you now?'" he tells me smirking. He leans back in he is chair and puts his hand behind his head. "Be my guest." "Excuse me?" I ball my hands into fists until my knuckles turn white. Finally I turn to him, ready to explode, but the bell rings and Mr. Baldwin starts talking.
My lips morph into a scowl and I turn to the front of the classroom. I try to listen but am distracted every once in a while by Austin's unbelievably heavy breathing. Fortunately, he writes what he wants us to make on the board.
Austin and I start the experiment but Austin keeps messing it up. I begin to think he's doing it purposely until I look at his face and see the concentrated look on it. Finally, I shove his hands away and finish it right before Mr. Baldwin comes to our table to examine the experiment.
"Hm, excellent work, Austin and Ally. A plus," he says marking it on his clipboard and walking to the next table. It sounds weird, having our names put together like that. Wait a minute. Austin just got credit for the work I did!
I sigh angrily. After a while, Mr. Baldwin walks up to the front of the room behind his desk. "Look at the person next to you," he says and I look at Austin, no matter how much the sight disgusts me and he looks back. "This will be your permanent partner for the rest of the year!" "What?" I yell across the room at Mr. Baldwin. "Well, Ms. Dawson, you should have considered this when you sat beside him at the beginning of class," Mr. Baldwin says. "I didn't sit beside him! He sat beside—" "You could have moved," Mr. Baldwin cuts me off.
"Crap," I mutter kicking the table leg. "Glad we're partners, whore," Austin whispers in ear making a shiver run down my spine. The bell rings and I rush to my next class. Algebra 2. With Mrs. Nelson. I look at her and she looks very nice… but looks can be deceiving. We'll find out in due time.
The bell rings and the lesson starts. I finish the problems easily and quickly. This period went by as quickly as the first one did. I walk to locker number 382 which has been mine since I started high school last year. I take my bag of lunch out and walk to the side of the school where there's a large tree.
I eat my lunch behind this tree since no one comes over here. I open the bag and take out my ham sandwich. I take a bite before I notice a shadow. Who could be back here? No one comes back here! Except—
"Hello, whore," Austin says plopping down beside me. "How about that blowjob?" I stand up. With sudden courage, I squeeze my ham sandwich all over his head. He licks his lips. "Yum, ham juice," he says taking my sandwich away from me.
I walk away and back into the school. "Man, I really thought she was gonna do it!" I hear someone exclaim behind me. Probably one of Blondie's buds. "Hey!" an all too familiar voice calls out to me. I turn around and see my best friend, Trish, staring at me. "Oh. Hi, Trish," I say with a small smile.
"I thought we were eating at the tree," she says questioningly. "Yeah, I'm not that hungry," I lie to her. She rolls her eyes and takes my paper bag so she can throw it away. "But your sandwich is gone. Did you just eat without me?" she asks playfully mad.
"Nah, my sandwich just got into a little… mishap…" I say. "Mishap?" she asks raising an eyebrow. "I'll explain later," I say with a wave of dismissal. "No, you'll tell me now," she says smiling. "I— You know Austin Moon?" I ask. "Of course! He's the devil that's been tormenting you since the sixth grade!" she says looking angry.
"I squeezed my sandwich all over his head," I say shrugging. "I cannot even begin to believe you did that…" she says. "I'm so proud!" She gives me a hug and throws her paper bag away along with mine. "You're not gonna eat?" I ask. "Nah, what class do you have next?" she asks pulling out her schedule. I take mine out too even though I memorized it when I looked at it the first time.
"Pre-calculus," I say. "Me, too! Let's go and get our seats early!" she says grabbing my hand and dragging me to the class. "Hello, Mrs. West!" Trish calls out. I try to walk to the back but Trish's grip is too strong. "Oh, no. You're going to be brave and sit in the front, right?" Trish asks. I sigh and sit down in the front row.
Right when Trish sits down, I jump up and run to the back row. She comes to the back and sits down beside me. "You better be glad I love you. I never sit in the back," she mutters to me. "Aw, I love you too!" I tell her ignoring the rest of what she said and we both start laughing. We have about thirty minutes so I take out my songbook.
It's the first day of school
And I'm feelin' kinda silly.
I'm not so cool
And I wish someone would just kill me.
I've been saying that a little too much today. I tear out the page and throw it in the waste basket next to me. And that sounded like I hate myself, my life, and others which makes me seem emo and I'm not emo. Forget it, I'll just write a diary entry.
Guess what? It's the first day of school! Yay. I hate school. I have second period with Blondie and now he's my permanent chemistry partner for the whole year! Kill me now. I've been saying that a lot today. More than I usually do in one day. The habit started in sixth grade when Austin moved to Miami and began tormenting me. I started saying that on a daily basis. I really do hate him. With a freaking passion. But the good thing is Trish is in my fifth period which is Pre-Calculus! She'll be needing a lot of help. I think class is starting soon but I'll write in you later! Promise.
I didn't even notice the boy with blond hair sitting in front of me. It's a good thing I wasn't writing a new song or I may have missed the whole lesson if I didn't notice a boy sit down. He's also blocking my view of the board. "Excuse me, but I can't see," I say to the blond-haired boy. He turns around and I realize who it is before I even see his face. He has a smirk glued to his face.
"Blondie," I say through clenched teeth. "Hello, whore," he says. "What? Are whores blind now?" Trish starts to stand up but I stop her. "Trish, sit down," I tell her. She does what I say surprisingly. "No, Blondie. Your commodious head is in my way," I say to him. "My commo-what head?" he asks. I forget that his tiny brain has trouble understanding words with many syllables.
"Commodious, large, big," I say. "Oh… Hey, my head's not big!" he exclaims. "But it will be after you're done blowing me up," he tells me winking. He also put air quotes around 'blowing me up.' He turns around.
It takes a second before I understand it. "I will never give you a blowjob," I tell him. "We'll see about that," he says not turning around. "Settle down, class," Mrs. West says as the bell rings. Everyone listens to her and she begins giving out problems for us to solve.
I solve them quickly and Austin and Trish keep copying off of my paper. Trish, I don't mind but Austin, I do. But once I'm ready to say something to him, he's done copying and now he's tapping his pencil on his desk.
I'm so ready for fifth period to be over. Almost as if on cue, the bell rings and I'm out of my seat but Austin trips me. Of course. I get up and try to get to the door but he's holding me by the elbow now. "What?" I ask angrily. "Where you going so soon?" he asks. "Class," I answer. "Where else?" "Oh, cool. I'm going to class too! All I want to know is what you have," he says. Why in the world does he want to know that?
"World History." "Don't you want to know what class I have?" he asks with a cocky grin plastered to his face. He has something he calls fun in store for me. But it's never fun for me. I really don't want to stick around to see what it is. "Hey! Let go of my friend!" Trish yells from behind Austin. "And if I don't?" he asks turning around and letting go of me. "Wait a minute!" he says but I'm already out the door.
I run to World History and get there just as the bell rings. I sit in the back row (there's always an empty seat) and look at the board but there's nothing written there. Mrs. Lynch was sitting down with her feet on the desk and a People's magazine in her hands. "Sit down. Shut up. Take out your books. Turn to page whatever and pretend like you're working if the principal comes in," she says not looking up from her magazine.
She seems like an awesome teacher. I remember the sophomores talking about how awesome Mrs. Lynch was last year. The only thing I wonder about is how exactly she got her teaching degree. I roll my eyes and take out my songbook. This gives me a great idea for a song even though it won't be about me and what I'm feeling this time.
Today I don't feel like doin' anything.
I just wanna lay in my bed.
Don't feel like pickin' up my phone
So leave a message at the tone
'Cause today I swear I'm not doin' anything.
I'm gonna kick my feet up
And stare at the fan.
Turn the TV on
Throw my hand in my pants
Wait a minute… Did I really just say that? Oh well, it's going good so I'm going to keep it like that.
Nobody's gon' tell me I can't.
I'll be loungin' on the couch
Just chillin' in my Snuggie
Flip to MTV so they can teach me how to dougie
'Cause in my castle,
I'm the freakin' man.
She does kind of look like a man I guess…
Oh, yes, I said it.
I said it.
I said it 'cause I can!
Today I don't feel like doing anything
I just wanna lay in my bed
Don't feel like picking up my phone, so leave a message at the tone
'Cause today I swear I'm not doing anything
Nothing at all, nothing at all
Suddenly, a bell rings in my ear. What was it? Oh… class is over, Ally. I gather up my things and head to Ms. Moreau's French class where I know that nobody I know will be in. I mean, who wants to take French besides me? I sit down in the middle and realize I was wrong. "Bonjour putain," I hear from my right side. Oh, no. He's taking French, too?
"S'il vous plaît arrêter de me traiter de pute," I say. He stares at me with a blank face before saying, "What?" "Figure it out," I say. He rolls his eyes and for the first time, I actually pay a lot of attention in this class.
"One! Un!" Ms. Moreau is yelling out the number in English then in French. "Two! Deux! Three! Trois! Four! Quatre!" I write them down in my songbook so I can study over them later. "Five! Cinq! Six! Six!" The number six looks the same but sounds completely different. "Seven! Sept! Eight! Huit! Nine! Neuf! Ten! Dix! Now let's review! Say one through ten in French!" She yells a lot.
"Un! Deux! Trois! Quatre! Cinq! Six! Sept! Huit! Neuf! Dix!" I think I'm the only one who didn't stumble over my words. "Now let's go through twenty!" Ms. Moreau yells. "Eleven! Onze! Twelve! Douze! Thirteen! Treize! Fourteen! Quatorze! Fifteen! Quinze! Sixteen! Seize! Seventeen! Dix-sept! Eighteen! Dix-huit! Nineteen! Dix-neuf! Twenty! Vingt! Let's review!" Do all French people learn this fast?
"Onze! Douze! Treize! Quatorze! Quinze! Seize! Dix-sept! Dix-huit! Dix-neuf! Vingt!" Again, I'm the only person who got it exactly right. Then we went through thirty and reviewed it. Then through forty and reviewed it. And then through fifty and reviewed it. And for the end of class, we reviewed one through fifty.
"Très bonne, Mme Dawson," Ms. Moreau says walking over to my desk. I smile awkwardly. "Um, very good, Ms. Dawson," she says translating her French comment into English. Everything she says in English has a French sound to it. "Thank you, Ms. Moreau," I say back, not knowing how to say it in French. She smiles and walks back to her desk.
The bell rings and I run out the door but I notice Austin hanging back to talk to Ms. Moreau. I run to chorus but that period was very boring. We didn't even get to sing today. Mrs. Roberts promised we would get to that tomorrow, though.
Then I walked to gym. Yay, everyone in this class gets to make fun of my chicken legs. How fun, I think to myself. I sit down on the bleachers and wait for Coach Blake to come out of the boys' locker room. When he does, I have to admit, he's kind of attractive for being a teacher. He must be the cute teacher that all the girls would talk about last year.
I see another flash of messy blond hair. "Why are you in every other class of mine?" I yell at him when he sits down. "No, why are you in every other one of my classes?" he asks just as annoyed. I groan and try my best to ignore him but it's difficult when he's elbowing you as hard as he can in the ribs every five minutes.
"Quit it!" I whisper-yell at him, hitting him on the back of the head when Coach Blake wasn't looking. But he just keeps doing it. Why don't you tell on him, Ally? I ask myself. Because then you would have to endure everyone calling you a snitch. And you don't have the guts to do it. Both of those are true.
Coach Blake just goes over what will be going on throughout the semester so I wasn't missing much. I just cannot wait to get home. This day wasn't as bad as I thought it would be but it was still pretty bad. It got even worse when I got home. When I found out, I couldn't help but think:
Bottom Author's Note: When they were talking in French, Austin said "Hello, whore" and Ally said "Please stop calling me a whore." Sorry that this chapter kind of sucked. I wrote it in the middle of the night last night and I was pretty tired. I reread and I thought: What in the world? But I didn't want to rewrite since it was so long. Hope you enjoyed it a little. If you review, I'll try my best to make the next chapter better!