No matter how many times he read his English assignment, he couldn't think of anything worth writing about. You can't write about an experience you haven't experienced. He sighed and raised his hand, the universal sign for "I have a question teacher please answer it".
His teacher glared and cut him off. "Mr. Kirkland."
"Uh... yeah... right... Mr. Kirkland," he said before being officially called on by his teacher. "I don't think that I can-"
"Don't speak unless called on, Alfred," his teacher said cutting him off. "I haven't given you permission to speak-"
"My bad," Alfred apologized cutting Mr. Kirkland off.
His teacher rolled his eyes. "Whatever, now Alfred do you have a question?"
He smiled and lowered his arm. "As a matter of fact, Mr. Kirkland, I do have a question! I find our class essay stupid-"
"You're grade in this class-"
"Let me finish, Mr. Kirkland," Alfred said before Mr. Kirkland could lecture him about his grade. "I find our class essay stupid, because I have yet to experience the experience you want me to write about. And the rule of writing is to write about what you know."
His teacher frowned. "You never found comfort in a friend before?"
"No sir," he stated, "and by the laws of writing I am unable to-"
"If you understood the rudiments of writing, then your grade in this class would reflect that," Mr. Kirkland said cutting Alfred off annoyed. "I have offered tutorials, extra credit projects, and test corrections. And yet you refuse to take advantage of any of these opportunities to improve your grade-"
"Tutorials are during baseball practice, extra credit projects are stupid and a waste of time, and nobody wants to do test corrections. If you wanted me to do well in your class, then you really should just teach it better-"
"I teach my class just fine," his teacher spat cutting him off. "You are my first student to make a-"
"Hey, you're not supposed to tell everybody my grade," Alfred said cutting him off. "School policy states that grades are supposed to be kept secret-"
"Its not like we don't know your grade," a girl sitting next to Alfred spat.
"You may be a smoking ten, but nobody likes you, Natalia. You got a stick shoved way up your-"
"Hey, that's not very nice. I think Natalia is-"
"Shut up, Toris! I don't care if you try to stand up for me; I'm still never going to go out with you. And nobody likes you either!" Natalia said cutting Toris off.
"Yeah, 'cause you got this fetish for creepy janitors-"
"Ivan is not a creepy janitor!"
"You know his first name?"
"Why is it a bad thing if Natalia knows his first name?"
"Toris, Natalia, please be quiet and let me speak to Alfred," Mr. Kirkland said trying to return as much order to an unorganized class possible.
He laughed. "Ha! School policy states that you two lovebirds have to shut up, because-"
"School policy also states that you have to be passing all classes to compete in athletic activities," Mr. Kirkland stated as Toris blushed, and Natalia darkened. "But school policy had to find a loophole for its star pitcher-"
"Dude, have you seen my curveball?" he asked cutting his teacher off. "Its like one of the twelfth wonders of the world. Without me this school won't even make it out of district. This school lives off of my awesome baseball skills. Its like my skills are the blood and body of this school, and everything else is just useless organs like toenails-"
Mr. Kirkland cut Alfred off. "Oh dear goodness, I pray for the sanity of your biology teacher."
"That's Mr. Bonnefoy-"
"Whatever," Mr. Kirkland teacher said rolling his eyes. He clearly had something against Mr. Bonnefoy. "I don't care how great your baseball skills are. All that's important to me is that you pass my class. I don't want you having to repeat British Literature-"
"I thought this was English IV."
"Same thing! I don't want you having to repeat English IV because you didn't do one simple assignment."
"Well, jokes on you teach. I can't write about what I don't know," he said. "Maybe I can just not do this assignment, and you can pretend that I did. You know like what they did with the moon landing."
"No. You might be able to get away with this certain thing in your biology class, but my in my class-"
"But, it's totally a win-win! I don't want to write about finding comfort in a friend, and you don't want to have me in your class again next year. So, lets say that I wrote this essay when really I didn't-"
"Why don't you write your essay on baseball?" his teacher suggested cutting him off. "I'm sure that there was at least a time when you found comfort in a teammate-"
Alfred cut Mr. Kirkland off with a laugh. "Ha! Me relying on somebody else for comfort? That's a good one teach. I think I might post that as my Facebook status-"
"It wasn't a joke! A essay on finding comfort in a teammate would be perfect-"
"But, I've never found comfort in a teammate! And even if I did, I have too many teammates. And I call all of my teammates friend. And I don't rank my friends. Maybe you judge your friends but I don't, Mr. Kirkland. So, I can't write this essay. If I did all my friends that I didn't write the essay about would get jealous. And I have over four hundred Facebook friends-"
"I'm sure that your friends won't mind if you-"
"But they will mind! I'm friends with everybody! Except the creepy janitor guy Natalia daydreams about. But he doesn't count as a person or human or anything."
Natalia sat up in her chair. "Excuse me-"
"This essay is impossible, because I'm best friends with everybody, dude! Everybody just loves me romantically or bromantically for some strange reason! I think it's my awesome essence or the fact that I use Axe body spray."
A loud groan was heard from everybody in Mr. Kirkland's class. This wasn't the first time Natalia, Toris, and the other classmates had heard Alfred boast something ridiculous like this.
"That is a very bold thing of you to say," his teacher said ignoring the groan.
"But its true! How can anybody not like the star baseball player, and the guy who holds the record for the most hamburgers eaten in on sitting?"
"I don't think that's something worth bragging about," a quieter student who looked a lot like Alfred mumbled.
Mr. Kirkland shook his head. "What if you weren't the star baseball player?"
"That's stupid. Why wouldn't I be the star baseball player?"
"But, what if you just didn't have baseball in your life and were just a-"
"Dude, then I would play football-"
"No, what if you weren't any sort of star athlete? What if you just played the game, and without any skill or anything? What if you were just a player and not a star player?"
"Dude, you're speaking fortune cookie. I'm not getting you-"
"What if you make a mistake and ruin the next game for everybody. Do you think everybody you call a friend would still admire you and like you? Who would be the person to comfort you and still admire you even though you have just proven yourself for what you really are truly a complete failure?"
"Like that would ever happen! I'm a topnotch player. Me making a mistake, and becoming a total failure would be like hell freezing over, pigs flying, or that creepy janitor guy wearing a sunhat and driving me home," Alfred stated ignoring the question Mr. Kirkland was trying to get him to think about.
"Ivan wouldn't even look good in a sunhat!"
"Nobody wants your opinion, Natalia!"
"I actually care about-"
"Natalia, Toris, please I'm trying to talk to Alfred-"
"Ha, y'all two have to shut up now!"
Mr. Kirkland sighed. Maintaining order in this class was like trying to give a cat its flea medicine. "Think about it, Alfred, what if you really fail at your next game? Who would be the one to comfort you even though you just ruined the game for everybody?"
"I'm not going to ever make a mistake in a game! The game I have tonight is going to be flawless!"
"I want you to really think about this, Alfred. Try to figure out who would be the one to comfort you if you made a mistake, and write your essay on them-"
"You want me to write lies and fiction?"
"No, I want you to-"
His teacher didn't get the chance to finish. The bell rang dismissing everybody from the class. Everybody left before Mr. Kirkland could say anything else.
Matthew groaned and opened his wallet. His brother was too busy looking at the lunch lady's chest to calculate the price of his average lunch. "How much do you need this time?"
"You still don't know the price of my average lunch?" his identical brother asked chuckling, and moving his eyes away from staring at the lunch lady's chest.
"Its sort of sad that I don't know the amount." Matthew rubbished through his wallet. "I mean I pay for your lunch everyday-"
"Wrong!" his brother corrected. "I don't eat lunch at school on weekends."
"True." Matthew signed and handed the lunch lady a five.
"Thanks," said the lunch lady, in her cute Ukrainian accent. Something about her accent and the way she smiled when she talked always made paying for his brother's meals almost bearable for him. "You two boys have a nice weekend. Oh and be sure to win that game tonight Mr. Jones."
"Thanks Ms. Lunch-lady. Oh and hey, its Friday," his brother mentioned as he started putting his wallet back in his pocket.
"Please don't start singing that one Rebecca Black song."
His brother laughed. "Actually, I was just implying to you that you should give Ms. I-still-can't-pronounce-her-name a Friday bonus." His brother chuckled again and walked off to find a table.
Matthew sighed, watched his brother walk off, and handed the lunch lady another dollar. "Enjoy-"
"You really don't need to give me-"
"Look I'm not giving you a dollar because my brother, Alfred, asked me too." He blushed. "I'm giving you uh... a weekend bonus because... I have..."
"Can you hurry up?" a whiny voice asked behind him. "I want to buy my pasta before it gets cold!"
Matthew turned a deeper shade of red. "Uh... never mind," he mumbled walking away to let the Italian kid buy his pasta.
"Dude, what took so long?" Alfred asked with about half his hamburger in his mouth. "All ya had to do was give Ms. What's-her-name a weekend bonus-"
"Her name is Katyusha Braginskaya and I don't like that you refer to her as-"
"Why are you getting worked up over the fact that I don't know the lunch lady's name?"
"Uh, never mind," Matthew sighed blushing. "Our time in lunch would be better spent with you explaining your actions in English class today."
"Don't you 'huh' me. You know better than to question an assignment Mr. Kirkland gives you-"
"My little essay rebellion bothered you?"
"It didn't just bother me. It bothered the whole class!" Matthew huffed. "Why can't you just shut up in class and not waste class time by getting Mr. Kirkland mad at you?"
"I don't think that he was really mad at me-"
"And why do you have to keep calling Toris and Natalia lovebirds?"
"Well everybody knows that Toris has a huge crush on Natalia because of-"
"The whole macaroni thing in first grade," Matthew finished cutting Alfred off. "Can you just stop calling them lovebirds? Natalia punches really hard for a girl-"
"Dude, she punched you? Where? That witch is totally going to pay for that."
He probably shouldn't have told his brother that. But it was too late to take it back now. "Just a little tap on the left shoulder. It doesn't hurt or anything."
Matthew stretched the collar of shirt to show Alfred the spot. "It's really nothing. She just thought that I was you, and punched me in the shoulder after class-"
"Natalia should know better than to mess with my little brother," Alfred said getting up from his seat.
"But she thought that she was messing with you when she punched me!" Matthew yelled as his brother walked off to do something even more stupid.
"Your brother really shouldn't leave his trash behind. It leaves me with more janitor work to do," a voice behind Matthew said.
Matthew felt a chill go down his back. Something about the janitor's presence made him feel uncomfortable. "Yeah... I try to make him more humane..."
The janitor laughed and took the seat next to him. "So what stupid thing is he trying to accomplish this time?"
"Oh, I uh made the mistake of telling Alfred that Natalia punched me, and now I think Alfred is going to get revenge by punching Natalia back or something," Matthew said before he could stop himself.
The janitor darkened. "Did you say Natalia?"
"I'll be sure to make sure that Mr. Jones receives punishment for harming my little sister," the janitor said before standing back up.
Once the creepy janitor was gone, Matthew was an alone at the lunch table. And for once in his life he felt like he said too much.
About a month ago Hunny The Monster asked me to write her a Russia and America hurt/comfort story. Since it's been over a month since I told her that I would write her one I decided to give her a multiple chapter story.
Reviews will help me not procrastinate. Oh, and feel free to point out the grammar mistakes.