I unzipped my pencil case, and got out a biro. I scrawled the date on the top of the page, in shaky writing. I just realized I haven’t written anything in a year or two, and my fingers that were totally competent at doing nails, putting on eyeliner, etc, were completely useless at actual writing.
My heart was still thudding from that…thing with Daniel. I was an idiot. Why the hell did I kick him?! I wasn’t the type to use violence, mainly because I was so weak (hence my hatred for Gym), but also because I was a fan of the whole “make love not war” thing. I pushed down the feelings of fear and worry about what Daniel would do to me (beat me? Kill me?) , and tried to concentrate on Calculus. Approximately thirty seconds later, I was lost. My notes were mainly doodles of a stick man doing various things to a stick girl – you know, shooting her, kicking her, knifing her and using her own guts to strangle her as she cried (wonder what that’s about? Normally I’m not so dark.)
“So if you multiply x with y, then divide by…” I didn't help that the Calculus teacher was talking superfast.
I nodded along, trying to look like I got it. Inside, I was crying. How the hell am I supposed to multiply numbers?! They are numbers, for God’s sake! Scott was looking at me worriedly, and I smiled at him reassuringly.
After that captivating Calculus lesson, it was finally break. I was right. I was so going to flunk. Thank god it was only for a month, and I didn’t really have to bother with grades.
Scott showed me the music room the music kids hung around in, and I stayed there for a bit, and we messed around in the recording studio (THIS SCHOOL HAS A RECORDING STUDIO! Rich schools are really…rich). He said I have a good range, I just needed to refine the tone a bit more – that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me about my singing. Ever.
“How do you know Daniel?” he asked me, casually, sliding the switches up and down.
“He’s my roommate.”
“What?!” he said, shocked. “You know he’s driven out his last, like, twenty roommates.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “But I never found out why.”
“He probably scared them. He’s that kind of guy. Did he piss you off too or something?”
I laughed, nodding, but suddenly I got this kind of protective feeling of Daniel. I wanted to defend him. I pushed this instinct down, ignoring the feeling. It was guilt.
“Hey, d’you know who’s turning up this Wednesday?”
“Who?” Today being Monday, two days later would be Wednesday.
His eyes glinted as he dished out some particularly juicy gossip. He was like the cute little brother I never had. He was so adorable.
“Tyler Anderson.”
“No!” I exclaimed. Tyler Anderson was like, the best pop singer in the world. He was amazing. His first single had stayed top of the charts for about a billion weeks, and his album had gone platinum in a couple months. He was AMAZING. “Really?”
“You picked an awesome month to join this school. In about three weeks time we have the Halloween musical, and then it’s the blow-out party at the beach. You’ll love it; we’re inviting all the schools in this area, so some chicks’ll be there.”
“Great. Chicks.” Also, what Halloween musical? I was hideously uninformed. God, Cris sucks. I would fire him, but he’s the only manager (and guy) I’ll ever trust.
Scott quirked up an eyebrow at my non-enthusiasm, and I quickly tried to look enthused. After all, I was supposed to be in character here, and I’m pretty sure my character isn’t gay.
