#2 - Maybe Things Won't Be So Bad After All
"Jacob! Dude! That's crazy!" I was still rather awestruck. My gray-gold eyes widened at the
height of him. He had become a six foot mountain of black saxophone player. He grabbed me and gave me a huge bear hug, crushing my chest.
I hit him a few times to get him off of me. "JACOB! You didn't give me a real Myspace or email! Leyla and I couldn't contact you!" The school I went to before Cedar Oaks was a living hell except for four important people in my life, Leyla, Nicole, Chloe and, for a very very short time, Jacob. Jacob graced us with his presence as a "new kid" for about four days and disappeared off the face of the earth.
"I had to move, the band directors..." he trailed off. Algebra teacher had come over to see what the commotion was. She leered up at Jacob and stomped off. Jacob placed his hand on my shoulder - "I'll see you at lunch." - and then he walked into the classroom and sat a table not far from where I had just been sitting.
I left the classroom and walked into the large crowds of people who were trying not to get to their class. No one wanted to be early to class, except me. I wanted to be early. My next class was outside at a portable, according to some really Puerto Rican guy in the hallway. He smiled at me and told me it was across the basketball courts in the far portable. I had the theater teacher, Mr. MacKenzie.
I thanked him and stepped outside, where even though passing periods were about six minutes, kids sat in the dry dirt and on the steps, talking, drinking snapple and water just... socializing. At the old school, no one would have sat down in the dirt. They might have gotten their Abercrombie jacket dirty or messed up their new flip flops. I looked up at people as I walked, and watched the stream of track atheletes walk in their P.E. clothes down to the track. As I followed them with my eyes, I looked up across the horizon. The school was built on the edge of a a real Texas Hill Country-style hill. In the distance, painted against the rising sun and a sky of vibrant purples, grays, reds, oranges and yellows, was the outline of the brand new highway and the hotels and assorted business places, about five miles away. It was a beautiful sight, and I had to stop and catch my breath. Ah, captiolism.
I continued my rather short journey to the theatre portable, across broken cobblestones and pavement and climbed up a handicap ramp to his classroom. I came in. Kids sat strewn across couchs, on the floor, and on random chairs that were lying about. It was really laid back, kids just talking and discussing the UIL compeition coming up for theater. The teacher was no where to be found. Zeppelin music played faintly in the background, which eventually turned in the Doors when the next song came on. It seemed like I should have been handed a joint by now or something.
I stood in the doorway, looking confused, when a large, white haired elderly gentleman came in.
"And who, may I ask my dear lady, are you?" he inquired. I could tell I was going to like him already. I reached out my hand to him.
"Danny. Danny Wheatly, my good sir." I replied in the same grandiose way he had spoken to me. He shook my hand firmly.
"I can tell Danny, that you will be quite the asset to my class. Please, sit anywhere." He waved his hand, gesturing around the class. This led to my next daunting task. Do I sit with the stoners, who would never accept me and think I'm a nerd? Do I sit with the obvious loser outcasts, whom I feel superior to? Or do I sit with the goody-two-shoes Jesus kids?
I choose the Jesus kids. They like to give new people tours and introduce you to everyone they've known since kindergarten, generally including a large variety of hot guys. By some miracle, I had found a chair and pulled it up next to the least scary looking Jesus kid. The class didn't fall silent, but I could tell Mr. MacKenzie was about to address us- meaning the Losers who didn't talk anyway and the Jesus Kids were quiet.
"Please, welcome Danny to our class. I'm sure you'll all be nice to her and will make sure she feels welcome, riiight?" He attemped to be stern, but he was too nice and it broke rather quickly. The stoners rolled their eyes and the other kids all nodded their heads ferverently, but it was obvious everyone respected him.
I spent the whole class feeling rather left out. Everyone had a project to work on already, and I didn't. I just watched everyone else work, and talked to the people who were laying around. They all had pretty good tips and I gained a few new faces.
From there was back across the basketball courts to US History. I came in and like I had the other two times, immediately found the teacher and shook her hand. "Hi! My name is Danny Wheatly, I'm a new student." I said as the small, dumpy african american woman gave me an odd look.
"Listen kid, I'm just the sub. Go find some place to sit." Although I knew I had no idea, I felt retarded anyway.
I sat down somewhere, and was immediately verbally apprehended for sitting in someone else's seat. I stood in the corner of the room and waited for everyone to fill in their seats. There was one spot left. I sat in it and was attacked again by everyone sitting behind me.
The creepy kid behind me, Michael, had atrocious teeth, obviously only wore black but was rather friendly, and the heavy kid in front of me, Matthew, was even more friendly. I attract weirdos like peanuts and butter.
The sub started class, droning on about how Mrs. Webstin will be back and something blah blah Reconstruction.
Reconstruction?
RECONSTRUCTION?!
We weren't even to the Civil War yet at my old school!
I almost cried.
Really, I almost did. I MISSED the Civil War. How do you MISS the CIVIL WAR?
After I got over suffering that injustice, class was over. I walked promptly across the hall to Ms. Rachette's room. Eighth grade science.
I walked in the room, and it looked like any other science classroom. I walked up to the desk, and looked around. The teacher was no where to be found. All of the sudden, her head popped over the edge of her desk. Her frail little gray head peeked over the top.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh..er.. I'm err.. Danny Wheatly. I'm uh, new student." I was still rather taken aback by her sudden appearance.
"Oh yess, the office told me you'd be coming. Go, sit down anywhere. We'll figure it out." She smiled at me. Her tiny little body was hunched over, she looked like she was either a billion years old or had some pretty bad cancer. Her eyes were small and blue, her nose was pointed. She looked like a mouse.
I took a sit, and kids filtered in around me. Ms. Rachette passed out papers to each desk. Across the top read, "WORTH THE WAIT PERMISSION SLIP". I read farther down.
Oh gawd.
No.
NOOO.
Sex education.
Again?
Once the other kids saw what the slips read, the room got louder and more excited. The Indian girl on my left stared at the paper, then noticed me.
"Hi! My name's Felicia!" she smiled at me.
"My name's Danny." I smiled back.
Ms. Rachette quieted us all down and then I saw HIM. He was the single most beautiful thing I had ever seen on the planet.
His knees hunched under his desk from his height, his fluffy brown hair fell down in kind of a bowl cut around his ears, fraying out at the ends. His blue eyes were framed heavily by thick, large glasses. His clothes screamed dork, nerd, pencil pusher, band geek,
anything that might have insinuated "I don't give a shit."
It was a wonderous sight. And for all the pretty guys I had seen today, even the model worthy ones- this was my favorite. He stared ahead at the screen as Ms. Rachette started talking about male genetalia. And I think I had the biggest crush on someone known to man.
