So Close...Yet So Far
Chapter 2-Ryan, Brendon, and Gerard
Chapter 2- Ryan, Brendan, and Gerard
Billie Joe's POV
As I walked through the door into the school, I saw the usual scene. Cheerleaders doing each other's hair and makeup. Jocks talking about football and how great they are. Nerds playing chess from a chess board coming out of one of their lockers. Wait, that wasn't normal. How do you get a chess board in your locker? Well, anyway, as I was wondering where to go, a voice came over the intercom. "Will all new students report to Mrs. Wilson's office, room 209. That's all". I really don't know why I was doing what they told me to do, as I usually don't listen to authority, but I kinda need to know where to go and where my locker was. So I looked on a school map that was hanging on the wall and found room 209.
The principal’s office looked like it was stuck in the 70’s with it’s mostly brown interior. There was a huge filing cabinet in one of the corners. Some of the cabinet drawers had pad locks on them. Man, I wonder what was in there.
Well, anyway I noticed I wasn’t the only new student in the room. There were 3 nerdy looking kids, a thuggish looking guy, a ghetto-looking chick, and a hippy dude. Then Mrs. Wilson the principal came in. She looked like your average principal, with her hair in a tight bun, her tweed suit, and her glasses perched neatly on the tip of her nose.
She gave a tiny smile and said, “Welcome, new students. I’m Elizabeth Wilson, the principal of Oakland High. I hope you all will feel welcomed in your new school. I have a packet of important information for each of you. It contains a map of the school, a class schedule, your locker number, and some other helpful important information. Let’s see now…ummm…Larissa Jones?” The ghetto girl looked up, nodded and took the packet thing that the principal gave her. “Cornelius Harrison IV?” Mrs. Wilson said as one of the nerdy kids came up and got his. She handed out all the packets until I was the only one left. “Ah… you must be Mr. Armstrong.” She said while giving me a weird look. I didn’t respond. I just came up, took it, and left.
I was so glad to be out of there, The Cornelius guy kept staring at me. It was kind of creepy actually.
I walked through the halls looking for my locker, #265. After about 5 minutes of searching, I finally found it. As I was putting away my stuff, 3 guys came and talked by the locker next to me.
“Hey, I’ve never seen you before. Are you new?” one of them said to me. I shut my locker and turned towards them. “Yea,” I replied. “Cool. Well, I’m Gerard,” said the one who talked to me. He had messy, sort of longish black hair and was wearing a black shirt with a red tie. “I’m Billie Joe,” I said. “Oh, this is Ryan,” Gerard said, indicating to the guy on his left. He had dark brown hair that was sort of choppy and was wearing a blue shirt the said The Beatles on it. “And that’s Brendan,” Gerard said, pointing to the smiling, waving, hyper guy on his right. He had hair like Ryan, except it wasn’t choppy, and he was wearing a shirt that said “I’m a Pepper” on it.
“So, what school did you go to before?” Ryan asked. “Ummm… St. Agnes Preparatory School,” I said embarrassed. They all started laughing, really hard. “A prep school?!?” Gerard exclaimed. “Ya, I know,” I said, “It was hell.” “Ya I’m sure it was,” Ryan said, “The people there are stupid, gay snobs.” “Wow, sounds even worse than here,” Gerard said as 3 skanky cheerleaders walked by and one said “Omigod, I love your pants!”
“You’ve been unusually quiet today, Brendan,” Ryan said. “Really?” Brendan said, “Must be because I didn’t have my coffee today.”
“So, do you know Joe Hahn?” Brendan asked me. “Ya, he was part of the band I was in.” I said. “Cool.” said Brendan “He’s my neighbor. I know he went to that snob school because he always complained about it.” “What was your band called?” Ryan asked me. “Acid Rain,” I replied. “Oh yea! I remember you!” Brendan said, “You guys were at Battle of the Bands at that one club downtown. I was there too. You see, me and Mr. Ross here,” he said as he put his arm on Ryan’s shoulders,” have a band called Panic! at the Disco.” I thought for a moment as Ryan shrugged off Brendan’s arm and mumbled “That’s weird, dude.” “Oh yea, I remember you guys, too. You were pretty good.” “Thanks. But that one terrible screamo band won though. The Gay Squirrels or something like that.” Ryan said. I laughed “Haha, yea I definitely remember them.”
Just then a bell rang. “Well, that’s the homeroom bell,” said Gerard “whose homeroom are you in?” “Ummm…” I said as I looked for the homeroom sheet, “Mr. Bennes.” “Same here,” said Ryan. Brendan leaned over and looked at the homeroom sheet. “Shit, I’m with Professor Edward, “ he said. “Haha,” laughed Gerard. “I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you. You’re in Professor Edward’s homeroom, too,” Brendan said. “What?!?” Gerard exclaimed as he snatched the sheet out of my hands “Shit, you’re right! God, this is going to be torture!” “Who’s Professor Edward?” I asked. “The crazy science teacher,” Ryan replied. “Well, we better get going,” Brendan said “Catch ya later.” Gerard and Brendan walked down the hallway (well, Brendan was kind of skipping) while Ryan stayed by the locker next to mine, which I was guessing was his.
As he was putting his stuff in his locker, I noticed he had a picture of him and a pretty, brown-haired girl. “Is that your girlfriend?” I asked “She’s pretty hot.” Ryan looked at the picture, then looked at me and then back at the picture. Then he suddenly burst out laughing. “No, that’s my sister!!!!” Ryan exclaimed. “Oh,” I said, extremely embarrassed, “woops, I’m sorry.” That wasn’t exactly a question you ask someone you just met anyway. Ryan’s smile slowly faded and was replaced with a sad expression. “She killed herself last year,” he said in a bitterly sad voice. “Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” I said. “Yea it was hard. We were pretty close, too. I’m still trying to get over it.” he said. “Well, we should probably go to homeroom now.” he said, breaking the moment of awkward silence.
I followed Ryan to a classroom a short distance down the hallway. Inside, there was a scene of absolute chaos. Awesome. Guys were throwing balled-up paper at each other. Girls were, of course, gossiping and putting on makeup. A nerd was getting hung up on a door by his underwear by 3 bully dudes. A guy and a chick were even making out in the back of the room. Ok, yea that was a little weird. All through this, Mr. Bennes was sleeping, his feet on his desk.
Ryan headed straight to the back of the room where 2 guys were playing bloody knuckles and one guy watched. “Hey Pete. Hey Patrick. Hey Ray,” Ryan said to them. Only the guy watching said ‘hi’ back. The other two were too concentrated on hitting the other’s knuckle at just the right moment. “Oh yea,” Ryan said “This is Billie Joe. He’s new.” “Hey,” I said to the guy watching, as he was obviously the only one paying attention. “Hey, I’m Ray,” he said. He had a big, curly, red afro and was wearing a black shirt. One of the guys playing bloody knuckles turned his head toward us. “Oh, hi Ryan. I didn’t notice you were there.” While he wasn’t paying attention, the other guy hit his knuckles hard, causing them to bleed. “Oh my god! What the fuck, Pete?!?” the guy yelled, rubbing his bleeding knuckles. Pete was too busy laughing to care. “So, you’re Billie Joe, right?” asked the dude, who I was guessing was Patrick. “Yep” “Well, I’m, Patrick,” (***duh***) he said. He was short, sort of fat, had really big side burns, and was wearing a hat that said ‘I  Bingo’ on top of his messy, brown-blonde hair. “I’m Pete,” said, well, Pete. He had black hair that hung over one eye, was pretty tanned, and had really straight, white teeth.
“So, I’m guessing you like the Ramones,” Ray said. I glanced down at my shirt and then replied “Yeah, they’re fucking awesome.” Ray nodded and said “Cool. I like them, too.” “I was listening to them this morning,” Ryan added “in my car on the way down here.” “Lucky!” Patrick exclaimed “All I listened to this morning was a stupid rap song. You know, the one where they say ‘YEAH!!!’ a lot.” I started laughing. “Haha, yeah I heard that one too. It’s so retarded it’s funny.” Patrick had done a perfect impression of the “YEAH!!!!”, making it hard to stop laughing.
Then about 3 or 4 gossipping girls walked over to where we were. A really short one with dark hair, who seemed to be their leader, said angrily “Hello, Pete.” Pete repled in the same tone, “Hello, bitch, whoops, I mean Sarah.” Sarah’s mouth dropped open in disbelief, as did the mouths of her entourage. Well, one of them, a tall, very thin, gawky-looking one, looked really drunk and already had her mouth open the whole time and never closed it. Sarah closed her mouth, clenched her teeth, and then said, slightly calmer but still angry “Remember in 7th grade when you called us a bunch of slutty dumbasses?” “No,” Pete answered “Why would I remember something from 7th grade? But now that you mention it, if I did say that, I definitely don’t regret it because it’s true.” “Well,” Sarah said back “then do you remember at junior prom when you called Erin an mf’n retard?” “Oh yeah!” Pete said, laughing “That was hilarious, right Pat?” Patrick, also laughing, nodded. Once Pete had regained control he continued happily, “Yep, and I’m sure happy about it! And I believe the correct term I used was ‘mother fucking’ not ‘mf’n.” The girls gasped in disbelief and shock, appalled apparently that Pete would swear like that. “Well,” Erin, the drunk girl, said with a slight slur “ that was mean.” “So?” asked Pete defiantly. “Well, maybe you’re just ummmm… stupid!” retaliated Erin, obviously thinking that was an insult. “Oh, how will I ever recover from such a hurtful insult?” replied Pete, in a mock hurt voice. “You guys are seriously getting annoying.” Pete continued “And if all you’re going to do is bring up stuff that happened years ago, you might as well leave me and my friends alone and get lost.” “Fine, maybe we will!” yelled an angry Sarah. “Bye retards.” Pete said as they walked away. “Don’t drink too much Erin!” Patrick added. The girls just looked at each other, made that weird huffy sound girls make when they’re mad, the drunk girl said “Oh my god! What the heck?”, and walked away (finally!). Sarah lingered, giving Pete one last evil glare, and then hurried up to join the rest of her posse.
“Um, ok then!” I said. “Yeah, they’re weird. They just spend their days gossiping about people, planning their evil, maniacal plans to bring people they don’t like down, and bring up stuff that happened years ago, hoping that it embarrasses you in some way.” Pete explained. “Unfortunately, we’ve been in their same class for a long time.” Patrick added “We make fun of them a lot and “insult” (he put air-quotes around the word) them for no reason, so they really hate us. But, c’mon, how can you resist poking fun at weird people like them?” “Yeah,” Pete laughed “Especially Erin.” He then did a really accurate impression of her, mouth open and with a drunk, vacant expression, saying “What?”
“Did you have weird people like that at your old school?” Ray asked. Oh god. Here we go again. “Yeah, but a lot worse. I sort of ummmm…” I tried putting of the rest of the sentence for as long as I could “went to a prep school.” I finished, embarrassedly. They all looked at me for a moment, like as if they thought they had heard me wrong (well, except for Ryan, he had heard this before). Then they all started laughing really hard, exclaiming the usual “Really? Are you kidding me?” and “God, that would be torture! Worse than here!”
Once again, another bell rang. Everybody finished their conversations, got their stuff, and grudgingly started heading towards the door. I’m guessing that meant class was starting. “Hooray,” said Ryan sarcastically. “What class are you in first?” Ray asked me. “Ummm… I don’t know,” I said while fumbling for my schedule. “Oh, here we go. English.” Patrick gasped and went “BUM, BUM, BUM!!!” “What?” I asked, confused. I looked at all of them. All 4 had mock scared looks on their faces. “Mrs. Meyer is evil!” Patrick exclaimed. “She gives you a super-long report to write like every week.” Ryan said. “And it has to be perfect.” Ray added. “And if you don’t do your homework, you get,” Pete said in a suspense-filled voice, and then looked at Patrick, who again supplied the “BUM, BUM, BUM!!!” thing again. “DETENTION!” everyone declared at the same time. “Really?” I said. I couldn’t help but be disappointed. If this whole thing was supposed to psych me out and get me scared, they were doing a bad job of it. Detention? C’mon, I spent almost the whole school year in detention last year, mostly because me, Joe, Mike, and Chester “vandalized” the school by spray painting it. Detention definitely didn’t scare me. “Ok, fine,” Pete admitted in defeat “No, you just have to write a report on why you didn’t do it.” “Which is actually probably worse,” Ryan put in.
By now we were close to the door. As I was walking out, Patrick whispered “bum, bum, bum!” again, Ray said “be very afraid” and Ryan said “good luck” By now, I sort of was afraid.
I got my stuff from my locker, looked at the school map, and found the English room. Thank god, it was on the same floor. I walked down a hallway or two until I came to a door declaring: Room 311- Mrs. Meyer- English. I walked inside, awaiting my doom. Just kidding. I wasn’t that scared. At least I don’t think so.
Billie Joe's POV
As I walked through the door into the school, I saw the usual scene. Cheerleaders doing each other's hair and makeup. Jocks talking about football and how great they are. Nerds playing chess from a chess board coming out of one of their lockers. Wait, that wasn't normal. How do you get a chess board in your locker? Well, anyway, as I was wondering where to go, a voice came over the intercom. "Will all new students report to Mrs. Wilson's office, room 209. That's all". I really don't know why I was doing what they told me to do, as I usually don't listen to authority, but I kinda need to know where to go and where my locker was. So I looked on a school map that was hanging on the wall and found room 209.
The principal’s office looked like it was stuck in the 70’s with it’s mostly brown interior. There was a huge filing cabinet in one of the corners. Some of the cabinet drawers had pad locks on them. Man, I wonder what was in there.
Well, anyway I noticed I wasn’t the only new student in the room. There were 3 nerdy looking kids, a thuggish looking guy, a ghetto-looking chick, and a hippy dude. Then Mrs. Wilson the principal came in. She looked like your average principal, with her hair in a tight bun, her tweed suit, and her glasses perched neatly on the tip of her nose.
She gave a tiny smile and said, “Welcome, new students. I’m Elizabeth Wilson, the principal of Oakland High. I hope you all will feel welcomed in your new school. I have a packet of important information for each of you. It contains a map of the school, a class schedule, your locker number, and some other helpful important information. Let’s see now…ummm…Larissa Jones?” The ghetto girl looked up, nodded and took the packet thing that the principal gave her. “Cornelius Harrison IV?” Mrs. Wilson said as one of the nerdy kids came up and got his. She handed out all the packets until I was the only one left. “Ah… you must be Mr. Armstrong.” She said while giving me a weird look. I didn’t respond. I just came up, took it, and left.
I was so glad to be out of there, The Cornelius guy kept staring at me. It was kind of creepy actually.
I walked through the halls looking for my locker, #265. After about 5 minutes of searching, I finally found it. As I was putting away my stuff, 3 guys came and talked by the locker next to me.
“Hey, I’ve never seen you before. Are you new?” one of them said to me. I shut my locker and turned towards them. “Yea,” I replied. “Cool. Well, I’m Gerard,” said the one who talked to me. He had messy, sort of longish black hair and was wearing a black shirt with a red tie. “I’m Billie Joe,” I said. “Oh, this is Ryan,” Gerard said, indicating to the guy on his left. He had dark brown hair that was sort of choppy and was wearing a blue shirt the said The Beatles on it. “And that’s Brendan,” Gerard said, pointing to the smiling, waving, hyper guy on his right. He had hair like Ryan, except it wasn’t choppy, and he was wearing a shirt that said “I’m a Pepper” on it.
“So, what school did you go to before?” Ryan asked. “Ummm… St. Agnes Preparatory School,” I said embarrassed. They all started laughing, really hard. “A prep school?!?” Gerard exclaimed. “Ya, I know,” I said, “It was hell.” “Ya I’m sure it was,” Ryan said, “The people there are stupid, gay snobs.” “Wow, sounds even worse than here,” Gerard said as 3 skanky cheerleaders walked by and one said “Omigod, I love your pants!”
“You’ve been unusually quiet today, Brendan,” Ryan said. “Really?” Brendan said, “Must be because I didn’t have my coffee today.”
“So, do you know Joe Hahn?” Brendan asked me. “Ya, he was part of the band I was in.” I said. “Cool.” said Brendan “He’s my neighbor. I know he went to that snob school because he always complained about it.” “What was your band called?” Ryan asked me. “Acid Rain,” I replied. “Oh yea! I remember you!” Brendan said, “You guys were at Battle of the Bands at that one club downtown. I was there too. You see, me and Mr. Ross here,” he said as he put his arm on Ryan’s shoulders,” have a band called Panic! at the Disco.” I thought for a moment as Ryan shrugged off Brendan’s arm and mumbled “That’s weird, dude.” “Oh yea, I remember you guys, too. You were pretty good.” “Thanks. But that one terrible screamo band won though. The Gay Squirrels or something like that.” Ryan said. I laughed “Haha, yea I definitely remember them.”
Just then a bell rang. “Well, that’s the homeroom bell,” said Gerard “whose homeroom are you in?” “Ummm…” I said as I looked for the homeroom sheet, “Mr. Bennes.” “Same here,” said Ryan. Brendan leaned over and looked at the homeroom sheet. “Shit, I’m with Professor Edward, “ he said. “Haha,” laughed Gerard. “I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you. You’re in Professor Edward’s homeroom, too,” Brendan said. “What?!?” Gerard exclaimed as he snatched the sheet out of my hands “Shit, you’re right! God, this is going to be torture!” “Who’s Professor Edward?” I asked. “The crazy science teacher,” Ryan replied. “Well, we better get going,” Brendan said “Catch ya later.” Gerard and Brendan walked down the hallway (well, Brendan was kind of skipping) while Ryan stayed by the locker next to mine, which I was guessing was his.
As he was putting his stuff in his locker, I noticed he had a picture of him and a pretty, brown-haired girl. “Is that your girlfriend?” I asked “She’s pretty hot.” Ryan looked at the picture, then looked at me and then back at the picture. Then he suddenly burst out laughing. “No, that’s my sister!!!!” Ryan exclaimed. “Oh,” I said, extremely embarrassed, “woops, I’m sorry.” That wasn’t exactly a question you ask someone you just met anyway. Ryan’s smile slowly faded and was replaced with a sad expression. “She killed herself last year,” he said in a bitterly sad voice. “Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” I said. “Yea it was hard. We were pretty close, too. I’m still trying to get over it.” he said. “Well, we should probably go to homeroom now.” he said, breaking the moment of awkward silence.
I followed Ryan to a classroom a short distance down the hallway. Inside, there was a scene of absolute chaos. Awesome. Guys were throwing balled-up paper at each other. Girls were, of course, gossiping and putting on makeup. A nerd was getting hung up on a door by his underwear by 3 bully dudes. A guy and a chick were even making out in the back of the room. Ok, yea that was a little weird. All through this, Mr. Bennes was sleeping, his feet on his desk.
Ryan headed straight to the back of the room where 2 guys were playing bloody knuckles and one guy watched. “Hey Pete. Hey Patrick. Hey Ray,” Ryan said to them. Only the guy watching said ‘hi’ back. The other two were too concentrated on hitting the other’s knuckle at just the right moment. “Oh yea,” Ryan said “This is Billie Joe. He’s new.” “Hey,” I said to the guy watching, as he was obviously the only one paying attention. “Hey, I’m Ray,” he said. He had a big, curly, red afro and was wearing a black shirt. One of the guys playing bloody knuckles turned his head toward us. “Oh, hi Ryan. I didn’t notice you were there.” While he wasn’t paying attention, the other guy hit his knuckles hard, causing them to bleed. “Oh my god! What the fuck, Pete?!?” the guy yelled, rubbing his bleeding knuckles. Pete was too busy laughing to care. “So, you’re Billie Joe, right?” asked the dude, who I was guessing was Patrick. “Yep” “Well, I’m, Patrick,” (***duh***) he said. He was short, sort of fat, had really big side burns, and was wearing a hat that said ‘I  Bingo’ on top of his messy, brown-blonde hair. “I’m Pete,” said, well, Pete. He had black hair that hung over one eye, was pretty tanned, and had really straight, white teeth.
“So, I’m guessing you like the Ramones,” Ray said. I glanced down at my shirt and then replied “Yeah, they’re fucking awesome.” Ray nodded and said “Cool. I like them, too.” “I was listening to them this morning,” Ryan added “in my car on the way down here.” “Lucky!” Patrick exclaimed “All I listened to this morning was a stupid rap song. You know, the one where they say ‘YEAH!!!’ a lot.” I started laughing. “Haha, yeah I heard that one too. It’s so retarded it’s funny.” Patrick had done a perfect impression of the “YEAH!!!!”, making it hard to stop laughing.
Then about 3 or 4 gossipping girls walked over to where we were. A really short one with dark hair, who seemed to be their leader, said angrily “Hello, Pete.” Pete repled in the same tone, “Hello, bitch, whoops, I mean Sarah.” Sarah’s mouth dropped open in disbelief, as did the mouths of her entourage. Well, one of them, a tall, very thin, gawky-looking one, looked really drunk and already had her mouth open the whole time and never closed it. Sarah closed her mouth, clenched her teeth, and then said, slightly calmer but still angry “Remember in 7th grade when you called us a bunch of slutty dumbasses?” “No,” Pete answered “Why would I remember something from 7th grade? But now that you mention it, if I did say that, I definitely don’t regret it because it’s true.” “Well,” Sarah said back “then do you remember at junior prom when you called Erin an mf’n retard?” “Oh yeah!” Pete said, laughing “That was hilarious, right Pat?” Patrick, also laughing, nodded. Once Pete had regained control he continued happily, “Yep, and I’m sure happy about it! And I believe the correct term I used was ‘mother fucking’ not ‘mf’n.” The girls gasped in disbelief and shock, appalled apparently that Pete would swear like that. “Well,” Erin, the drunk girl, said with a slight slur “ that was mean.” “So?” asked Pete defiantly. “Well, maybe you’re just ummmm… stupid!” retaliated Erin, obviously thinking that was an insult. “Oh, how will I ever recover from such a hurtful insult?” replied Pete, in a mock hurt voice. “You guys are seriously getting annoying.” Pete continued “And if all you’re going to do is bring up stuff that happened years ago, you might as well leave me and my friends alone and get lost.” “Fine, maybe we will!” yelled an angry Sarah. “Bye retards.” Pete said as they walked away. “Don’t drink too much Erin!” Patrick added. The girls just looked at each other, made that weird huffy sound girls make when they’re mad, the drunk girl said “Oh my god! What the heck?”, and walked away (finally!). Sarah lingered, giving Pete one last evil glare, and then hurried up to join the rest of her posse.
“Um, ok then!” I said. “Yeah, they’re weird. They just spend their days gossiping about people, planning their evil, maniacal plans to bring people they don’t like down, and bring up stuff that happened years ago, hoping that it embarrasses you in some way.” Pete explained. “Unfortunately, we’ve been in their same class for a long time.” Patrick added “We make fun of them a lot and “insult” (he put air-quotes around the word) them for no reason, so they really hate us. But, c’mon, how can you resist poking fun at weird people like them?” “Yeah,” Pete laughed “Especially Erin.” He then did a really accurate impression of her, mouth open and with a drunk, vacant expression, saying “What?”
“Did you have weird people like that at your old school?” Ray asked. Oh god. Here we go again. “Yeah, but a lot worse. I sort of ummmm…” I tried putting of the rest of the sentence for as long as I could “went to a prep school.” I finished, embarrassedly. They all looked at me for a moment, like as if they thought they had heard me wrong (well, except for Ryan, he had heard this before). Then they all started laughing really hard, exclaiming the usual “Really? Are you kidding me?” and “God, that would be torture! Worse than here!”
Once again, another bell rang. Everybody finished their conversations, got their stuff, and grudgingly started heading towards the door. I’m guessing that meant class was starting. “Hooray,” said Ryan sarcastically. “What class are you in first?” Ray asked me. “Ummm… I don’t know,” I said while fumbling for my schedule. “Oh, here we go. English.” Patrick gasped and went “BUM, BUM, BUM!!!” “What?” I asked, confused. I looked at all of them. All 4 had mock scared looks on their faces. “Mrs. Meyer is evil!” Patrick exclaimed. “She gives you a super-long report to write like every week.” Ryan said. “And it has to be perfect.” Ray added. “And if you don’t do your homework, you get,” Pete said in a suspense-filled voice, and then looked at Patrick, who again supplied the “BUM, BUM, BUM!!!” thing again. “DETENTION!” everyone declared at the same time. “Really?” I said. I couldn’t help but be disappointed. If this whole thing was supposed to psych me out and get me scared, they were doing a bad job of it. Detention? C’mon, I spent almost the whole school year in detention last year, mostly because me, Joe, Mike, and Chester “vandalized” the school by spray painting it. Detention definitely didn’t scare me. “Ok, fine,” Pete admitted in defeat “No, you just have to write a report on why you didn’t do it.” “Which is actually probably worse,” Ryan put in.
By now we were close to the door. As I was walking out, Patrick whispered “bum, bum, bum!” again, Ray said “be very afraid” and Ryan said “good luck” By now, I sort of was afraid.
I got my stuff from my locker, looked at the school map, and found the English room. Thank god, it was on the same floor. I walked down a hallway or two until I came to a door declaring: Room 311- Mrs. Meyer- English. I walked inside, awaiting my doom. Just kidding. I wasn’t that scared. At least I don’t think so.