How to Make a Human

There was so many reasons I was thankful for class ending. The main one was probably Demetri, King of Awkward. Demetri just slept all friggin' period, and if I tried to talk to him he would just glare at me. Just sit there and stare at me until I muttered an embarrassed apology.

I give Shane credit for at least trying, but dear god, can that boy talk! It started out well enough, but after a while I had to wonder where exactly his mind lurked. He was a talker, so I didn't get much of the assigned packet done, I attempted, but Shane didn't even try. He picked it up, glanced at it, drew a crude scribble of a Power Ranger, and then pushed it into the middle of the table and ignored it. Over the span of thirty seconds we would have a conversation like:

"So your last name is Heising? Sounds German," Shane said rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"It is."

"So, what's Germany like?"

"Never been there, I actually come from--"

"Never been there?! Demetri! Are you hearing this? She's German and she's never been to Germany!"

"I don't care," Demetri mumbled.

"Well, I'm not exactly German, my dad is but I--"

"Say something in German."

"I don't speak German."

"Come on! Do it."

"I don't--"

"Do it!"

"Fine. Sprechen sie English?"

"Is that it?"

"I don't speak German!"

"Oh," he paused again and rubbed his chin again, "laaaame."

But that's nothing. Over the span of fifty seconds the conversation would proceed as such:

"So how do you like it here?" Shane asked, leaning back in his chair and neglecting his packet.

"Well, I guess the people are--"

"Hot?" he interrupted.

"I was going to say 'nice'."

"Oh. Well, yeah, I guess, but we're hot too, huh?"

"Sure. Everyone here is gorgeous. It's like a town of models. Is that what you want to hear?

"Yeah, actually it is. Sam's hot huh?"

"Who's he?"

"No, no, 'Sam' like 'Samantha'. She's a babe."

"I'll take your word for it."

"You don't have to. She's sitting at the table across from us."

"Oh. Okay."

"Well, at least look at her!"

"No, I can't. It will be awkward."

"No it won't. Just take a glance."

"No. I don't want to be known as the creepy new girl who stares at all the females. I want to be known as
the creepy new girl who mumbles to herself."

"Oh! That's right! I forgot you're new here!"

"What?"

"Yeah, I just feel like we've bonded so much. It's like I've known you forever."

"It's been twenty minutes."

"That doesn't stop the fact that we've bonded."

Now, personal and talkative as he may be, I did find myself enjoying his company. Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt as though I should have been irritated by him, but he was just so darn amusing I could've cared less. I had gone through my second and third period without Shane and it was… probably the most awkward experience of my life. I never thought high school was as cliquey as the movies made it out to be, but seeing it from a new student's point of view was something totally different. It's not like I was pointed at and mocked, but I definitely wasn't greeted with open arms. Nobody really wanted to go out of their comfort zone to make me feel welcome. But hell, I don't blame them. I would have done the same thing. I have done the same thing.

When I showed up to my fourth class of the day, science, I had hoped that Shane would be there again to make me feel less uncomfortable, unfortunately I had no such luck. Towards the whiteboard at the front of the room was the teacher's desk. I approached the desk cautiously, because after my second period teacher kicked my desk over and shouted "DANCE NEW STUDENT! DANCE!" I've been feeling nervous. My second period teacher was an ex-hippie, and his brain was absolutely fried. How he became a teacher, I'll never know.

The fourth period teacher sat casually behind the desk surfing the net on his small black laptop. Thick framed glasses sat slightly askew on his nose, and his grey hair looked as though he had ran his hands through his it numerous times. He wore a pair of slacks with a button up, pinstriped shirt haphazardly tucked in.

"Ah! Ms. Hi-seen, correct? I'm Mr. Gert" he asked, standing up when he noticed me waiting.

"It's actually Heising," I corrected, sticking my hand out to shake his.

"Whatever," he said ignoring my hand and searching through his drawers for a clipboard instead.

"Let's see, let's see. Where do I have room to seat you?" he mumbled to himself while looking over the seating arrangement. His eyes widened briefly before he mumbled, "Oh, Christ. Lord help you."

"What? What is it?" I asked, slightly nervous about his behavior, attempting to look at the seating arrangement.

"No, it's nothing. Nothing to worry about," he said cheerfully, shoving the clipboard in his desk drawer to keep me from looking at it. "Anyway, you'll be sitting third row from the back. Right desk, left seat."

I nodded and walked past the rows of black tables to my seat. A portly, red haired boy was already inhabiting the right seat at the table, so I put myself down and took my designated left seat. The boy had his back to me as he hunched over his backpack and scribbled something down furiously on a notebook.

"So, you're the new girl?" he muttered, his back still facing me.

"It would appear so," I responded as I unpacked my science supplies, a required science book, a journal, and a pencil. I watched as he wrote frantically in his journal, I saw his pudgy hands fly across the paper as he wrote something pertaining "sarcastic new girl."

"Wanna go out sometime?" he asked quickly, not even turning to face me.

"What? No. No thank you," I replied, trying to remain polite. I noticed as he crossed out the word "girl" in "sarcastic new girl" and wrote "sarcastic new bitch."

"Oh, so you're a bitch?"

"What? No. Well, sure, I guess, but that's not why I said no. I barely know you!" I defended like a complete moron.

"And now you never will," he replied gruffly, slamming his notebook closed and shoving it in his backpack as the bell rang. So that's why the teacher was nervous; my desk mate is completely bat shit crazy. He furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms angrily, giving me a good opportunity to look at him. He was freckled and red faced, his beady hazel eyes were covered by copper wire glasses. Tight, red curls covered his head and were slightly damp from both perspiration and the humidity. Wow, gross.

Mr. Gert walked to the front of the class and began to speak when the classroom door opened and the class's attention was diverted to the door.

"Ah, Demetri, you're late," Mr. Gert said, nodding his head approvingly. He didn't look the slightest bit bothered that he had interrupted his lesson, he looked content.

"Yeah, by like three seconds," Demetri snorted, shuffling lazily to his seat, which was apparently directly behind mine. He slouched back in his seat and looked like he was ready to continue his nap. Jeez, does this kid get any sleep?

"No, more like three minutes," Mr. Gert corrected, walking towards him.

"Alright fine. What was our deal?" Demetri asked, leaning over on his seat and pulling out his wallet from back pocket.

"It went up from last time, didn't it?" Mr. Gert asked, "I think it's five dollars per minute."

"No freaking way."

"Yes. Last time it was three dollars per minute, and that didn't seem to work as an incentive to show up on time so we upped it two dollars."

"Oh, right. Okay, fifteen bucks," he mumbled fishing through his wallet and pulling out a twenty.

"Do you have change?" he asked holding up his twenty. Mr. Gert walked up and grabbed the twenty, throwing some crumpled ones on his desk in return.

"You owe me five. This is only two bucks," Demetri said, stuffing the money into his wallet regardless.

"Ah, well, that's all I have. Looks like you should have come on time," Mr. Gert said casually. No one in the class looked surprised at the exchange between Mr. Gert and Demetri, so I assumed that this was a normal routine. I also assumed that Mr. Gert was one of the cooler teachers. Of course I also assumed that violin was for nerds and that I would never be forced to move because of someone's dumb hobby. Guess who's assumptions are rarely correct? Mine.

As soon as Mr. Gert stepped in front of the class, ready to resume his lesson, he was cut off, this time by the portly ginger kid sitting next to me.

"Do you realize how morally repugnant that is?" he asked, standing up and putting his hands against the desk. He clenched his porky fingers into fists and I saw sweat marks where his fingers were line the table. I repeat: Gross.

"What is, Mr. Fredricks?" Mr. Gert asked, putting the cap on his marker and resigning himself to listening.

"The fact that you let Demetri come to class late without punishment! It promotes his laziness!"

"It was not without punishment. He had to pay me fifteen dollars," Mr. Gert said, his tone filled with boredom.

"It was eighteen," Demetri corrected.

"Yes, he had to pay me eighteen dollars," Mr. Gert agreed. Okay…? Because the teacher's nonchalance isn't out of the ordinary or anything like that.

"And you think that helps?" the ginger kid hissed.

"Well, he was five minutes earlier then last time wasn't he? And ten minutes earlier then the time before that. As the price gets higher he shows up earlier. I think things are going swimmingly."

"They are not!" the ginger shouted indignantly. Holy crap, what a creep.

"I think they are," Demetri said.

"I'm not talking to you!" the ginger raised his voice even higher.

"Ron, that's enough. Sit down," Mr. Gert said calmly. I snorted. The tension in the room thickened and everyone looked at me, Ron narrowed his beady eyes.

"What is so funny?" Ron seethed. I glanced at Mr. Gert who was rubbing his temples, and then at Demetri, who was giving me an approving nod, the rest of the class was silently choking back giggles.

"I just think it's kind of funny that you're name is Ron," I shrugged, Ron's eyes narrowed even more, so I continued, "It's funny because you have red hair and your name is Ron, and then Ron from Harry Potter has red hair and is named Ron. Just kind of a funny coincidence."

I didn't know which was worse, the fact that I had just used a Harry Potter reference on my first day at school, or the tension in the room that just doubled. Apparently I had touched a nerve. I heard some girl in the front mumble, “Holy shiiit.”

"I am not a stupid ass fictional character. I am real and I am nothing like him," Ron growled. I wanted to poke more fun at him. I wanted to squish his fat face. I wanted to tease him about taking such a small comment so seriously. I mean, come on, it was a tiny reference. What an overreaction. But of course, I couldn't do any of those things. I would look like a bitch and he would hate me… you know what? To hell with it.

"Yeah, you're right. He's taller," I retaliated. Ron's eye twitched. Oh, was that a sore spot? Height? Oops. I feel guilty.

Nah, I don't feel bad.

"Yeah, and skinnier," Demetri added. Ron fumed, and clenched his fists. He turned around to rip Demetri a new one before Mr. Gert stepped in. Apparently he found the whole thing amusing to watch.

"Alright, alright, that's enough. Weasley, sit down," he said.

"My last name is not Weasley!" he fumed.

"I know, I know, only joking. Ron, take your seat," Mr. Gert commanded, "Demetri, go to… the place I usually send you.

"You mean the office?" Ron spat.

"Yeah, sure, the office. Take Bonny with you."

"It's Bobbie," I corrected.

"Whatever," Mr. Gert responded, turning back to the white board and beginning to write the class assignment. Demetri threw his backpack on his shoulder and gestured for me to follow him. I shoved my things in my messenger bag and swung it over my shoulder, jogging to catch up with him. I turned back to Ron who stuck his tongue out at me. Is he serious? What is he? Four? The expression must have shown on my face because he proceeded to flip me off. Oh, well that's ten times more painful.

I followed Demetri out to the hallway where we walked in silence for a couple of minutes.

"Is that Ron kid for real?" I finally asked. I couldn't believe there were actually people like that.

"Oh, yeah. He's definitely for real. He is truly that big of a jack ass."

"Ah, I see. I take it he hates Harry Potter?" I said, readjusting my bag on my shoulder.

"Correct." Demetri said. He seemed bored with me, so I remained quiet for the few minutes it took to get to the office.

"I can't believe I was sent to the office on my first day of school," I sighed, standing forlornly outside of the office.

"What are you talking about? We're not going to the office," Demetri said, giving me a funny look.

"What?"

"No. Mr. Gert, along with various other teachers, mind you, just pretend to send students to the office to get Ron to shut the eff up."

"Seriously?" I asked, the tension leaving my shoulders as a wave of relief crashed into me.

"Yeah, seriously. If you were a teacher would you want to have to deal with Ron all the time?"

"Well, no. But why don't they just send him to the office?"

"His dad is the principal."

"Oh. Wow. But wouldn't his dad--?"

"No."

"You mean he doesn't want to--?"

"No. Now stop talking."

Gah, I wish he would stop cutting me off. D-bag.