Status: Currently on Hiatus
The Breakdown of Natalie Whitman
Natalie Whitman
A fall, genius…it’s a sign of stupidity. By the looks of it, this woman was not a public speaker. All red and sweaty, it was a pity really. Here were are, September 5, first day of school and we are forced to listen to some quack talk about how “she can help us and be there for us if ever we need a confidant.” Certainly, I did not want to associate myself with head-shrinks. My mother said that they are even more blood-thirsty than lawyers. Funny, on account my mother is a lawyer and the worst kind, a conservative one, but then again, try to find me one that isn’t. A Whitman didn’t need help; it was already predetermined according to my mother. As I sat there, waiting to be dismissed, this was the perfect time to think of my attack plan. With schedule in hand, I was determined to be first to all my classes today. It was a filled schedule indeed with four AP courses and the rest honors. With a quick sweep, I studied the teacher’s surnames. Stevens, Turner, Curtis, Alden, Goodman, Collins, Herman, Torres. My gum wanted to choke me as I coughed a bit. Torres…my stomach did a flip and I could feel all color drain from my face.
Daphne Torres, one of the sweetest teachers in the school. A little too sweet if you ask me, I had her for freshmen year and it was fine. However, I thought after freshmen year that would be the end of her, not literally of course. Just the end of how Mrs. Saunders phrased it “my wonderful academy journey.” No matter, I guess I would have to deal with her for another year. My best friend Ella was not too thrilled with her schedule either, with confused look on her face, she gaited along side me as we walked down the aisle to get out.
“I don’t understand, I aced US History I Honors and this time they put me in US History II, but not honors.” A worrywart that one, she often worried about her career in life. From the looks of it, Ella was heading into a world of science. She could tell you the square root of 450 without a calculator, but couldn’t tell you for her life who was the 14th president of the United States. It was Franklin Pierce. As we walked down these halls for the first time as juniors, it felt different. We were this close to graduating and nothing was going to stand in my way. Out of the blue, Ella shrieked and pulled me into a corner and then turned me around. “Do you know who that is?” There was excitement in her voice as she showed me some boy. I shrugged as I tried to break loose from her hold to be the first in class. With an exasperated sigh, Ella told me it was Nicholas Rogers, a boy she has been pining over since freshmen year. Of course the next question was “Isn’t he so dreamy?”
I hated that question; it was the one of two questions I never seemed to have an answer for. I didn’t matter who was the boy, the same response in my head was no. I did not think he was so dreamy; I wasn’t looking at boys now. Right now, the most important person in the world was me. Boys were the least important thing in my book. So I answered Ella with the ancient answer and she pouted and quickly asked the second question I never had an answer to: “Who do you think is attractive then?”
My mother always told me that the number one rule in being a lawyer is never asking a question you don’t know the answer to. I never asked any of my friends who they thought was dreamy because I knew I didn’t have an answer to it. No one…but was that even reasonable? Everyone had to like someone, right? But alas, I answered with the same generic answer I did every time: Ross Lorenzo, some senior who I did not really think was attractive, but at least he was smart. I felt my cheeks heat up a bit and I rapidly flew past Ella to avoid anymore of her annoying guy questions. I swear, I would do anything for a calculator for a brain and that child is wasting it on boys…pathetic.
As I ran to biology, I saw the dud of a shrink stand by her office door with her ridiculous chick yellow power suit. It was a minute, but for that minute, our eyes met and a chill ran down my back. It was not a scared chill; it was just an odd chill, an exchange between two strangers. She cocked her head a bit and then moved her gaze, unfazed about the interaction. If she was unfazed, I had to be more than unfazed; I had to be like a stone. Crawling into biology, I immediately ignored the quack and prepared to learn about rolling tongues.
Daphne Torres, one of the sweetest teachers in the school. A little too sweet if you ask me, I had her for freshmen year and it was fine. However, I thought after freshmen year that would be the end of her, not literally of course. Just the end of how Mrs. Saunders phrased it “my wonderful academy journey.” No matter, I guess I would have to deal with her for another year. My best friend Ella was not too thrilled with her schedule either, with confused look on her face, she gaited along side me as we walked down the aisle to get out.
“I don’t understand, I aced US History I Honors and this time they put me in US History II, but not honors.” A worrywart that one, she often worried about her career in life. From the looks of it, Ella was heading into a world of science. She could tell you the square root of 450 without a calculator, but couldn’t tell you for her life who was the 14th president of the United States. It was Franklin Pierce. As we walked down these halls for the first time as juniors, it felt different. We were this close to graduating and nothing was going to stand in my way. Out of the blue, Ella shrieked and pulled me into a corner and then turned me around. “Do you know who that is?” There was excitement in her voice as she showed me some boy. I shrugged as I tried to break loose from her hold to be the first in class. With an exasperated sigh, Ella told me it was Nicholas Rogers, a boy she has been pining over since freshmen year. Of course the next question was “Isn’t he so dreamy?”
I hated that question; it was the one of two questions I never seemed to have an answer for. I didn’t matter who was the boy, the same response in my head was no. I did not think he was so dreamy; I wasn’t looking at boys now. Right now, the most important person in the world was me. Boys were the least important thing in my book. So I answered Ella with the ancient answer and she pouted and quickly asked the second question I never had an answer to: “Who do you think is attractive then?”
My mother always told me that the number one rule in being a lawyer is never asking a question you don’t know the answer to. I never asked any of my friends who they thought was dreamy because I knew I didn’t have an answer to it. No one…but was that even reasonable? Everyone had to like someone, right? But alas, I answered with the same generic answer I did every time: Ross Lorenzo, some senior who I did not really think was attractive, but at least he was smart. I felt my cheeks heat up a bit and I rapidly flew past Ella to avoid anymore of her annoying guy questions. I swear, I would do anything for a calculator for a brain and that child is wasting it on boys…pathetic.
As I ran to biology, I saw the dud of a shrink stand by her office door with her ridiculous chick yellow power suit. It was a minute, but for that minute, our eyes met and a chill ran down my back. It was not a scared chill; it was just an odd chill, an exchange between two strangers. She cocked her head a bit and then moved her gaze, unfazed about the interaction. If she was unfazed, I had to be more than unfazed; I had to be like a stone. Crawling into biology, I immediately ignored the quack and prepared to learn about rolling tongues.