⚠️ This is a true story, unfortunately.
🖤1st in a series
✅Completed
I labeled this as teen "fiction" because my target age group usually thinks of self-help books or text books when they hear "non-fiction" and don't realize a memoir reads like a...
We switched seats in Anatomy class, that next week. My friend, Jasmine, got the seat behind me. She was your stereotypical ghetto fab queen. I was surprised I could stand her but she cracked me up. I had turned around to talk to her and didn't notice my pile of books sliding down my desk, until they fell into my lap and some of Dan's pictures poked out of the sides. He had been on vacation and I missed staring at him, so I'd brought the pictures to school with me, until he returned. I scrambled to pick the books up, before Jasmine noticed the images, but it was too late. J: "What's that stickin' outcha book?" She hoisted herself up onto her desk, to get a better look. I felt my face get hot with embarrassment and my mouth went dry. I tried to think of a defense but my mind went blank with fear of the ridicule I would be subjected to for this. Not that I thought I was being creepy but she might. T: "Nothing! I don't have anything weird!" It seemed like the faster I tried to push the pictures back into my book, the more they'd stick out. J: "...Is that Dan?"
I got the most overwhelming feeling of dread. I would've never guessed in a quizillion years, that she'd have any idea who Dan was. I heard ringing in my ears; I was in such a state of terror that she'd tell him and he'd never speak to me again...or a first time. J: "He's in my choir class. He gets a little too into the Disney songs. He starts dancin' and snappin' his fingers and shit. Why you got pictures 'a him?" I pretended to have a coughing fit, to give myself a minute to think. I decided to go with my classic life motto: Everything is everyone else's fault. T: "He sent them to me. I printed them to frame and forgot I shoved them in there." I tried to sound as confident as I could, so she wouldn't notice the steaming pile of shit falling out of my mouth. J: "Why he sendin' you pictures?" I wanted to reach over and strangle her for asking so many questions. I had no idea how well she knew him, so I felt like if I didn't give her all the answers, she'd go to him for them. T: "Because...he is...my boyfriend."
I don't know why I said that. I don't know why I didn't just say pal or I needed them for an art project or any other reason in the world but that. There was no more drama-inducing reason than that, and that's what I was trying to prevent. If I knew then, what I know now, I would've just told her to fuck off and mind her business. Damn, I liked the way that rolled off the tongue though. J: "You go out wit' Dan?" T: "I do now, I guess." J: "Tell him he need to chill when he singin'." She laughed and sat back in her seat, like the whole conversation never took place. I was relieved that maybe I cared about it way more than she did and it was just another mundane part of her day that wasn't worth giving a second thought.
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"Who are some of you guys' heroes?"
I walked into religion class with Kiwi, just as the bell rang. I sat at my desk, as he took a seat at the teacher's desk; throwing his feet up on top and making himself at home. She didn't do a double take, ask what he was doing, tell him to get up, nothing. K: "Jeremy Irons." She gave him a confused face. She was more shocked by his answer than the fact that he was sitting at her desk and was now going through her test drawer; drawing F's on all the ungraded quizzes. "Why?" K: "Because he did Scar's voice in The Lion King. Hello? Heroic."
