“Well hello and welcome to Lincoln High School, my name is Giovanni.” Huh, that sounds like a villain’s name. “You have a very nice BMW there and it’d be a shame if anything were to happen to it.” Giovanni wore a black suit and was accompanied by two muscular kids with shaved heads and leather vests. “You see this parking lot tends to have a lot of accidents, but for say $20 my boys and I will take care of your car while you are at classes.” Oh racketeers, guess the name fits.
“No thank you.”
“I’m sorry, maybe I didn’t make myself clear. Hoodlums can easily knife things like tires if someone like us doesn’t watch out for the cars here. Boys? Care to illustrate?” His two tattooed friends grinned and reached into their jackets.
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. If anything happens to my tires I will break one of your legs for each tire damaged.”
“Really? Boys?” They took a step forward.
“I’m not finished. A scratch is a broken finger from each of you. A window is an arm, dominant arm first.”
“Who do you think you are?” Giovanni grinned and his two ‘boys’ pulled out their knives and advanced.
“Chris Prothero.” The ‘boy’ on the left lunged forward with the knife, Chris blocked with his left arm and punched the kid’s face with his right, knocking him over. The ‘boy’ on the right lunged forward, but Chris jumped backwards to dodge then thrust his fist into the kid’s chin and he fell backwards as well. Giovanni’s boys rolled around on the ground clutching their faces.
Giovanni stared then turned and ran towards the school.
“You’ve just seen it on Kyle’s Cam, the new kid takes down Giovanni’s boys without breaking a sweat.” A blonde kid holding his phone up approached Chris, a little red light was on next to the phone’s camera. “Tell us your name again new kid.”
“Chris.” The red light blinked off. Kyle moved his phone away from his talk-show host face.
“Seriously? Try again, full name and be more dramatic. First impressions are everything.” The red light came on again, Chris sighed.
“Chris Prothero.”
“Doable.” He put the phone in his pocket. “I’m Kyle and welcome again to Lincoln High, let’s get moving.” They walked past the two still groaning kids. “Quite a show you put on, I film too much for them to try to mess with my car.”
“What do you drive?”
“On the left there. The rusty blue convertible, it’s like a girl: better with the top off.” Kyle grinned. “And speaking of… hey Britt, how have you been sweet stuff?” A cute blonde in a cheerleading outfit with a big yellow “L” on a black background walked up and kissed Kyle.
“Wonderful! Don’t forget about the game tomorrow, you promised you’d see this one.”
“Of course, I bought a ticket and everything.”
“Great! I have to go back to the girls, see you after school?” She began walking backwards towards the school.
“Absolutely.” She smiled and skipped away, her little red backpack bounced along with her. “She’s not the brightest on the field, but with that body she doesn’t have to be. I do have to remember to buy a ticket though…” Kyle scratched his chin. “So tell me Chris, where are you from?”
“Bishop Feehan. This is my first day here.”
“Oh well Mr. Fancy Pants, I should have guessed from your car. Public school is great once you get past the shitty desks, shitty teachers, and obviously shitty bathrooms. You’ll love it.” Kyle smiled at a group of giggling girls and waved. “Plus it’s a beautiful day.”
“I printed out my schedule, can you tell me where I’m going?” Chris pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Kyle.
“Well todays a half day, so only the first two matter. Nice, honors psychology with Gill, I’m in the same class. Got to love coincidences. I’ll point you to you English class afterwards.”
“Do you always talk this much?”
“It’s part of my charm and this doesn’t really count since I have to explain everything,” Kyle pointed to the school in front of them, “there she is, two educational floors of suck.” The ‘Lincoln High’ sign in yellow letters popped out of the red brick building, underneath it were a huge set of stairs filled with kids. “These are the main stairs. Most people are already inside waiting in the cafeteria. The band kids are that group left of the stairs and the theatre geeks are on the right, don’t get them confused because they kind of hate each other.”
“Hmmm… I need the names of a popular girl and guy, one from band and the other drama. Preferably with lockers close to each other.”
“Um… Brett Smith and Gloria Pennyworth… why?”
“It’s for science.”
“Whatever, which clique should I introduce you to? We have various jocks, stoners, smart kids, artsy guys, goths, and some hipsters.”
“Nowhere. We didn’t really have cliques at my old school. Everybody did everything.”
“I’ll find you somewhere.” A bell rang out from the school and the students began to gravitate towards the front doors. “Stay close.” The two walked along with the group of kids. Chris was jostled and bumped from all around, but he managed to stay close to Kyle amidst the crowd of bodies. “Psych is left. We’ll find your locker later.” Kyle walked down the hallway with Chris close behind. “Our colors are gold and black.”
“I could tell,” Chris looked around at the alternating gold and black lockers. Football players in their jerseys were clustered about as well. Kyle led him into a large classroom.
“Jenny, this is Chris Prothero, he’s the new student.” Kyle was talking to a woman wearing a black dress with gold polka dots. Ugly dress, but it’s probably hard to find gold and black to wear before game day.
“It’s Ms. Gill,” she rolled her eyes, “do you want a detention?”
“To see more of you? Absolutely Jenny. Chris we’re sitting in the back.”
“I’ll see you after class Kyle.” She turned to face the board and began writing. Chris followed Kyle to the back of the class and sat down in the desk next to him. Chris’ desk had various names etched into it and an overly detailed penis in the middle, which he covered up with a notebook.
“I’ll need your cell phone number. This class gets pretty boring.” Chris shrugged and tore a page out of his notebook, scribbling his number on it before passing it over. The desks around him filled up. Some football players sat in front of him with the biggest in the group blocking Chris’ view of the board completely.
“Settle down. Today’s chapter is on disorders, the first being psychopathy. Now these are people who have a lack of empathy and remorse…”
Chris looked down at his phone. 1 new message. So apparently we are going to text this class. I’m fine with that.
-Bored yet?
-Eh. I guess. Should I be paying attention to her?
-Her tests come straight from the book, super easy and since you haven’t seen much of the school I should probably send you some pictures.
-Sure.
Chris’s phone lit up with various images and he scrolled through them. Most of them had random kids making faces all over school. Some guy cartwheeling in a classroom, a girl throwing food in the cafeteria, a kid tripping in the parking lot, and more goofy things. Then came a picture of a skinny kid with black dreadlocks snorting cocaine off the back of a toilet, apparently Kyle had to climb on the toilet to look over the stall… weird. A few pictures of Kyle’s girlfriend followed. Then a muscular guy in a football uniform making out with a brunette behind some bleachers, this one had a caption “his girlfriend is a blonde lol”. Chris rolled his eyes. He paused on a picture of a girl with a pink streak running through her black hair. She was reading a book in what he assumed was the library. Chris looked over at Kyle who was asleep on his desk. Guess that’s it. Time to doodle.
* * * * *
A bell rang.
“DONE!” Kyle shouted. “Let’s go.” The students began stuffing notebooks and pens into their backpacks. Chris took one last look at his lone stick figure about to fight an army of red stick figures before he slipped it into his backpack and followed Kyle out of the room.
“Your class is room 155, follow this hallway for a while and it’ll be on your left. Text me if you need anything.” Kyle grinned and walked away.
“Thanks.” Chris began walking the hallway and dodging students. 137, 139, 141. He heard shouting coming from in front and his curiosity quickened his pace.
“Checking me out in the locker room?! Queer!” shouted a muscular kid in a jersey. He had very short brown hair and some scraggly stubble. He pushed a smaller kid against the lockers.
“Yeah Brent, I think he likes you.” Chuckled a kid in dreadlocks who pushed the kid again. Brent gave the kid another shove.
“Hey Buzz Lightbeard, leave him alone.” Chris cracked his knuckles.
“Who the fuck are you?” Brent turned to face him.
“I said leave him alone.” Chris stood his ground, but stopped cracking his knuckles. Crap there are probably teachers around. No fighting. Think, think, think, and where have I see those haircuts before?
“Are you going to make me?” Brent smiled and looked down at Chris. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair. Bingo.
“I’m not going to do anything and because of that you are going to leave him alone. I have a lovely picture of you and a brunette under the bleachers. In 10 seconds I can make you single for the rest of your high school career.”
“Want me to take care of him Brent?” The dreadlocks kid stood forward.
“No Paintbrush, you won’t, because jail is scary. Though not as scary as what is on the back of toilets here. Now gentlemen, and I use the term lightly, I need to get to class and you need to fuck off.”
“Is there a problem here?” A tall man with a mustache and a furrowed brow walked out of a classroom and crossed his arms.
“No sir.” Chris nodded curtly and continued walking past the blushing ‘gentlemen’.
* * * * *
Chris spent his English class on his cellphone looking up Brett Smith and Gloria Pennyworth on Facebook. He scanned through some photos of each. After a thorough search of their ‘About me’ page he downloaded the song Day Eleven: Love by Ayreon to his phone. Might be too cliché. Eh, the other songs didn’t really seem to have fitting titles. The band is obscure enough so it probably doesn’t matter.
* * * * *
Another bell, this one rang three times.
“Okay class, make sure to read the rest of Macbeth and take notes. The essay on the tragic hero is due in two weeks and I expect quotes. Drive safe and enjoy the half-day. I know I will.” The aging man grabbed a brown bag from his desk with a smile.
Chris admired his latest doodle before packing up; a viking stick figure fighting a dragon. He walked out into the hallway. Crap. Where am I? Just walk around and look for something familiar.
“Hey new kid, wait up.” Chris turned to see the same pink streak he saw in the picture earlier in the day. It was the same girl, though a different shirt, her current shirt was dark gray with a hammer inscribed in a yellow circle. “I saw the video online, of you fighting Giovanni’s guys. It was pretty cool.” They walked together down the hallway and Chris still didn’t know where he was.
“Thanks, but I’m not exactly Captain Hammer,” he pointed to her shirt.
“Oh my gods, you’ve seen Dr. Horrible’s sing along blog!?” She beamed.
“Yeah, Joss Whedon is the man.”
“You’re pretty cool for a new kid.”
“I’m Chris.”
“Oh I know, Kyle made that really obvious in the video. The auto-tuned version is going to be sick. I’m Roxy, and if you make one comment about a ‘red light’ I’m going to go ‘new kid’ on your ass.”
“That’s a shame because I had something really clever for it.”
“Shut up,” Roxy smiled as she punched him in the shoulder, “hey, I uh, just bought an extended cut version of Serenity, want to come over and watch it? There is some new commentary.”
“Really? Cool, yeah…” Chris glanced over at her, she had a pretty face and he didn’t have to look down to know where he wanted to put his hands. He imagined holding hands down the hallway, driving to school together, and laughing with her during lunch times. “That sounds good…” Then his mental images expanded; they were happy holding hands, but behind them someone was pushed against the lockers, he saw pictures of them driving together, but not seeing Giovanni and his boys smash windows of a car, he saw them together smiling at lunch, but not stopping some jocks from tripping a drama kid. “…but I can’t. I uh, have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on.”
“Oh yeah, work, I understand.” She looked down at the ground, “okay, I guess I’ll be seeing you.” She hurried her walking speed and left Chris behind. He stood there in the hallway, which was emptying of students.
“Dammit!” Chris kicked a locker. I just have to be the good guy. “Goddammit!” He looked down the hallway and saw Brett and Gloria packing up at their lockers. Great, just great, I fucking hate coincidences. He sighed. The show must go on. Chris walked towards them and once he was about 20 ft away he leaned against some lockers and took out his phone. He shuffled through his songs until he found the right one.
♪ Friday night, I had a few. There she was, out of the blue.♪
Gloria looked around for the source of the music. “Oh my God I love this song!”
Brett looked up. “No way, Ayreon? In this school?”
“Wait, you know this song?”
“Yeah, everything Arjen does is amazing. Have you heard Victims of the Modern Age yet?” (Chris turned the song off and began to walk away pretending not to hear anything.)
“That’s not even out yet!” Gloria shut her locker.
“Advanced copy,” Brett smiled, “I have the CD in my car if you want to listen to it.” He closed his locker.
“Yes yes yes!” She practically jumped. They walked together down the hall bringing up other European music that they had in common.
“Awww… young love,” Kyle walked over to Chris with a smile, “The love birds will lead the way to the parking lot.”
“Shut up. Where’s the nurse?” Chris scowled.
“Behind you, third door on the left. Why? You okay?”
“Life isn’t fair and my hand hurts.” Chris turned and walked away.
“It looks fine to me.”
Chris punched the locker next to him leaving a fist shaped dent.
Anonymous asked:
Where'd u go? Ur writing was pretty cool.
I’m coming back don’t worry. I have three papers to write this week, I’ll put up the creative paper and try to write more regularly.
Anonymous asked:
Not only do I like your blog (haha I found it) but I also am OBSESSED with you secretly. Ok here we go.. I got this idea from a Tumblr spam I got once lol.. I think you like me too and you were always too shy to admit it :3 go to crushmatches(dót)com (wtf it wont let me link regular) and make an account there. Then look up the profile 'gottagetme19' (me obviously) I left body pictures.. if you can guess who I am hit me up and we'll hang soon. You need a C C but its free
LOL spam
Adventures of a Teddy Bear There once was a Teddy Bear, bought from a store. The owner, she loved him, and didn’t ask for more. At night she slept with him by her side, Covered under blankets, from the dark she would hide. But under her bed, hid terrible creatures. In the darkness they waited with their hideous features. One crept out, it had many claws, but most dangerous of all were its large jaws. It climbed its way over the foot of the bed, then it peered with its ugly head. On top of his owner the teddy bear stood, Stoic and fearless, a stuffed force for good. The monster swung around a big pointed claw, but the bear punched it away with a small furry paw. The monster was shocked, that the teddy had blocked, but he wouldn’t give up that easy. The creature kept trying to claw at the girl, but the teddy kept fighting with a punch and a twirl. So that’s the start. The teddy bear fights every night and gets roughed up each time. The monsters explain why teddy bears are always losing their stuffing, arms, or eyes over time. It’s important to fix them up, because they fight for you each night.
It was a shame. There used to be wishes made all the time. Unfortunately one person wasn’t careful what he wished for. Now there really are no such things as wishes.
but he didn’t know it. He wasn’t even paying attention to the taste, he was watching the movie. It was the latest blockbuster. Action, macho guy, hot chick, and a predictable twist. He’d watch it again, but he wouldn’t enjoy it as much as the ice cream. That is if he gave equal attention to each, and he wasn’t.
“Screw it, I’m leaving the house.” Reise began packing a suitcase in his room.
“Wait, what?” Stag was in his pajamas eating cereal in the room next door. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. All I know is, I’m sick of waiting for adventures to happen. I’m not gonna sit around and wait for someone to come around and start the adventure, I’m going to go find it and find other people. Are you with me?”
“No. I’m happy here, have fun with your whatever.”
“I will.”
lifeofricecake asked:
Hmmm Vodka night.... I remember you relaying this story to me after it happened.
I like it, a lot.
It was a Friday night freshman year when I decided that I wanted to run the gauntlet of drunken experiences. And I did.
So I took out a small Gatorade bottle of vodka out of my dresser and began to drink. I realized immediately that a chaser was absolutely necessary; I chose red Gatorade. It was unpleasant and that is an understatement, but I had zeal and determination so I drank all of it.
I recycled both and wandered out in the hallway towards the dorm’s lounge. I stopped at the water fountain and swung my head around for a drink, the overemphasized “weee” swing. There’s something entertaining about how the body moves when tipsy and I was enjoying it.
I realized then that the R.A.’s room was between me and the lounge, but I was already walking. I stiffened a bit, but luckily the door was closed.
I walked into the lounge and plopped down on the nearest sofa.
“Alex… are you okay?” Asked one of the scattered about lounge crew. They were playing Super Smash. Classic.
“I’m grrreeeaaat! Like Tony the Tiger.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Yup.”
“How much?”
I gestured with my hands to show the length of the bottle, but my hands couldn’t agree on a proper length. I showed them every length from 3 inches to a foot and a half and varied it as my arms swung around.
“Oh god.”
“ALEX!! What’s up?” Said three more guys who were walking in. I didn’t have my contacts/glasses on so I don’t know who they were. The following things were vague, but they all ended up sitting on my lap somehow.
Alcohol and pressure on the bladder isn’t a good combination, so my friends walked me to the bathroom. One of them helped hold me up in front of the urinal. I peed. Then vomited red.
“SHIT!”
“Don’t worry guys, it’s just red gator-blaaaaaaaa,” More puke. Another one of my friends walked in. “Mike! What’s-blaaaaaa,”
They helped me make the transition to the actual toilet, which makes a much better target.
After I had gotten somewhere between 3 inches and a foot and a half of vodka out of my stomach I was carried to my room in the same way an athlete with a broken foot would be. I lay down.
The next day I awoke feeling like crap. My roommate was on his computer. I was wearing my pajama pants, but I have no memory of changing into them from jeans…
“How was it?”
“Ugh. It was fun, then miserable. Alcohol is crazy.”
“No, not that, how was Sara?”
“Wait, what?”
“Sara slept in your bed with you last night.”
“I don’t remember that. FUUUUUUUUCK.”
* * * * *
I spoke to Sara later that day.
“Oh no. Nothing happened. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t want to have to go all the way back to my dorm. I did help you change into your pajamas.”
“So… nothing happened.”
“Nope.”
“FUUUUUUUUCK.”
