Genius

Chapter One

Chapter One

Young Adult Novels vs Real Life (also a study of dramatic irony)

    "If a boy and a girl are best friends they will automatically and inevitably fall in love, and their 'getting together' will most likely be precipitated by several misunderstandings and awkward situations along with their general proximity to each other." I finish jotting down my notes with a flourish of my pen very closely related to that of a lunatic with a god complex I saw on the television. It only took me thirty-six teen fiction novels to reach that conclusion. I pick up the thirty-seventh to solidify this fact and add to my compiled list of resources and continue my research.

    The point was moot. As the thirty-seventh novel so boldly declared "The books lied. Best friends don't get together. There are no epic high school romances. In life, those foolish dreams are crushed. Welcome to the real world.", but in that book the best friends do participate in romantic engagements with each other. And a third party.

    "If a boy and a girl are best friends they will automatically and inevitably fall in love, and their 'getting together' will most likely be precipitated by several misunderstandings and awkward situations along with their general proximity to each other. Amendment: they will automatically and inevitably fall in love thirty-six out of thirty-seven times." At least that's how it works in the genre of books I'm currently reading (I may need to expand my research on the subject as some point for a more accurate ratio). One might wonder why I'm taking such detailed and furious notes on teenagers but, as a soon-to-be public school attendee, I thought it was of critical importance to learn how teen minds function. It's a good thing too, who knew that kissing involve tongue? I make a mental note to avoid kissing people, it may be rude to refuse to greet someone with a kiss on the cheek but I don't feel comfortable licking someone's face.

    The reason for my transfer to a so-called "public" school (which is definitely a misnomer, I looked it up: they don't let in citizens unless they have visitor passes so it obviously isn't open to the public, they should fix that) from my prestigious prep-school, St. Williams Academy for the Exceptional (according to my classmates it was also known as an "Asscademy" [most likely a crude reference to the gluteus maximus or the result of a rather tragic lisp] and the "prep school on steroids") is my parents. Or rather, my guardians. I heard them talking about transferring me to a boarding school, one on the east coast, away from the murders. The prep school was supposed to serve as a transition from homeschooling to college so I would have asked them why they were so desperate to send me away, but whenever I try to speak to them my chest gets strangely tight and my throat freezes, it's an inconvenient condition. The symptoms also include the paralysis of my facial muscles, they're forced and stuck in their resting state (which I am told is "blank" [and am later told that a blank expression is one without emotion, not one without facial features]), and selective mutism.

    I didn't look at them when I thrust a letter towards them, one detailing my imminent transfer to a public school after only a month and a half in the private academy, and fled the scene. The action did its part and derailed their plans of sending me away to the east coast, the worst of all coasts. According to Mysteries of the Deep, a documentary, evil blood-sucking mermaids live there and periodically steal people and drown them. I ended up receiving a harsh letter in the mail from the headmaster saying that transferring schools was a terrible mistake that I would apparently rue for the rest of my miserable life as an acclaimed, but not Nobel Prize worthy, genius. "They won't even know what to do with your 7.0 GPA!" is what he wrote, "Make it a more reasonable GPA." I wrote back. He never did reply to that.

    Back to my research: I watched movies, read books, heard dialogues, and memorized plot-lines. I memorized everything, in fact. I stuffed my trusty notebook with prudent information from the literature I had absorbed until it was practically bursting. I packed and organized my backpack with all of the supplies the list said I would need. I was prepped and prepared; the goal? Become normal.