A Throwback Gem - High School Thoughts

          The following is a rediscovered gem from writing in high school, exact date I'm unsure of. I found it amusing enough and a serious reminder of how people were in high school (especially a lot of girls) to be posted.

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          Saturday evening and still there was no call regarding whether or not her and her unaware crush's plans would actually occur tomorrow or not occur for that matter. Patience, hers, was beginning to wane as she sat there on her twin size bed just staring at her neon orange phone. He had to call, that was her make believe rule. If he didn't then all hell would break lose and whatever last bit of faith she had in the opposite sex would fail her for the last time. No, if he didn't call by midnight all the hope she had left would be distinguished. Oh well, one more lost star among thousands.

          She couldn't, no she wouldn't think about what he had said. That would simply make it worse, shatter her faster and in a more deadly fashion. Except she was thinking about what he said over and over again, the words the hamster of the wheel in her head. Round and round the words went, we'll meet up Sunday - I promise. Run little hamster, run your little heart out and don't let the world hurt you. No, no that wasn't right - this was just a nightmare, it couldn't real. He would call, yeah he bloody well would call - she hoped, oh god did she hope that was true. Hope doesn't work that way though, so it was time to spiral away from herself into a new existence, into a new pocket of life within herself surrounded by ice.          The phone wasn't going to ring by will power, hell no. If it did then she would be dreaming, having fallen asleep waiting. Damn it, she should just call him - let him know she was dying to know and give away her secret of liking him. Never, that wasn't a solution to ever be considered, regardless of how desperate she was to hear his voice again. Then just like that it rang and her heart began to soar towards somewhere above the clouds, into her special pocket of happiness reserved for making herself a walking lie outside of her room.           Yet just like that all of her happiness disappeared. Okay it had everything to do with her picking up the phone only to hear the voice of someone else, someone else telling him that he was to busy with her to hang out with her. With that a nerve snapped and she just hung up the phone without a single word. It had come from his house, caller ID had told her as much. Except who the girl was she didn't know. That didn't matter one bit though, he had broken a promise to her and for that she would disappear into the unknown.          Curling up into a ball she quietly sang to herself. The words had been memorized after hearing them enough, after all her father had sang it to her multiple times when they were closer, when the whole family was closer. Then soon enough none of them were particularly close, a family of arguments healed over by overly fake happiness. No one needed to know that inside she was dying and through that everyone was an unwanted presence, which was the real reason that her relationships with her family was dying.          Crumbling defenses and a bubble of darkness - eternal darkness, that was her on the inside. The outside was a combination of happiness, sadness, and everything in between. Maniacal laughter to crying and back again to the laughter. Snapped, a dry twig stepped on with every intent to destroy it. Ruined, eroded metal that had never been taken care of. Exaggerated to an extreme, oh well it would all be okay. That lie was sanity, a tree branch to cling to in hopes of survival - her grip weakening with every second. And then it was all over in a few seconds and she was simply herself once more, the same old Rebecca Leigh Jones that everyone knew and loved, hated, liked, or disliked.

Matthias Quinn Jamenson

  An exasperated sigh escaped from the almost constantly pursed lips of Ms. Pickrell as she stared up at Quinn. “Do you ever get tired of being such a nuisance?” She asked with as much calm as she could muster, quite tired of reminding her student that he had work to do.
  Quinn thought it over, casually leaning back against one of the desks in the room; calloused hands gripping on to the edge. “Do you ever get tired of my mother’s room?” He shot back finally, lips curving up into his all to well known smirk.
Ms. Pickrell’s eyes narrowed at the reference, hands moving on to her hips as she became defensive. “Different situations Quinn,” she replied carefully, the words turning over in her head. “What her and I do doesn’t concern you and you should know well enough to behave in class unless you want to deal with her being... disappointed.” The pause before disappointed thought over well before it came out; such a well calculated hit as far as she was concerned.
Tightening his grip on the plastic top of the desk, Quinn’s smirk lost a little bit of its normal luster. “Fine, I’ll have the assignment done in time for class and I’ll even refrain from disrupting your oh so well thought out lesson plan,” he managed to say at last as he pushed himself off of the desk; standing up to his full height of 6’3. “Now, if you don’t mind ma’am, I have some excess energy to burn off ahead of time.”
With that Quinn was out the door, long strides removing himself from the room before he could even hear a response. Said strides continued to propel the youth towards the doors leading to the outside at the front of the school; black backpack bouncing against his back with each step. As he approached the door the occasional wave, hello, and head nod was given to a familiar face, but nothing more; a boy with a mission one might say. A mission that was accomplished with ease as rough hands earned through hard work making contact with the handle of one of the main doors and pushing it open with more force than intended.

Birdsong High School - Olivia Marie Gomez

Birdsong High School was as bright as the name tended to imply; almost perfect looking in the photos on the school pamphlets and site. What most parents deemed to be the best school in town; not that such a roaring recommendation meant much since it was the only high school in the small town. Regardless, staff members took the glowing praise to heart and tried their best to keep things up to standard for themselves and the growing minds of the student body.

Of course, the students didn't always agree with this. At times finding the freedom to self educate on specific projects to be frustrating; especially those in their ninth grade year when the concept was first introduced. Though even those in their later years occasionally floundered with the idea of an education tailored better to suit their interests while also being educated on the basics of Math, English, and a language of their choice.

Olivia Marie Gomez, currently in her senior year, had been one of the multiple students to find herself overwhelmed at the teaching strategy of the school. Unsure of how to accept being thought of and treated as someone capable of their own decisions for once despite knowing it was coming thanks to an older brother. However, now that she had managed to stumble forward with a wavering 3.5 GPA into her senior year, she found herself grateful for how the years had turned out. Well, at least to the point to think the situation over as she impatiently tapped her foot behind someone in line to get herself an unhealthy drink fix for lunch rather than some actual food.

This particular habit of hers wasn't new; unless of course the student stuck in front of her was new to the area. Otherwise it was a well known lunch time ritual kept in place to keep control of parts of the day when there wasn't as much structure in the surrounding area. Not that the classroom environment was much better for that, but at the very least there was a noise control system in place.

"You know, there's always five choices. Never four, never three. They never run out and yet every day one of y'all manages to stare at it as if there is a new choice," she grumbled quite audibly, black Vans decorated with gunmetal gray zombies hitting against the ground louder in an effort to show her dislike for waiting more than five seconds for her afternoon caffeine fix. Which was, quite possibly, one of the few things she considered herself to be rude during; otherwise it was as much about sunshine and lollipops as she could handle. Better friends first then enemies to start off the bat after all.

Once the student was done making their choice, Olivia happily and quickly inserted the correct amount for a drink and punched in her choice of the day; a Dr. Pepper. Opening it up, she stepped away from the small room for the machines, walking into the main lunch area, drink already open. Beginning to take a sip she stumbled on the shoelaces of her own shoes, falling forward and managing to spill some (rather entirely too much) of her drink on a student she didn't recognize. Screaming an apology shortly after an expletive, she began to flee from the scene to get some paper towels or something.