Met You, Period 4

It just might be the same at every high school - there's the "cool" popular crowd, then there's the misfits and everywhere in between But, my school is different from other schools - because we're in it. I'm a misfit. Where else could you find such characters I know as friends? No where, that's where.

First off, you got Clive. He's a total Star Trek nerd...who happens to have an obsession for Whitney Houston (seriously, he sometimes jokes about kidnapping Bobby Brown). Then, there's Owen and Gina, who are together. They are self-proclaimed Goths. They've been to countless Cure concerts and painted their rooms black - but they have something no other Goth has. A respect for authority, elders, and administrators. You wouldn't happen to have one of those in your school, now do you? Didn't think so. Those are just three of my biggest friends. There are others who don't fit in that I'm kin to. But, there is one that truly amazes me. Everytime he opens his mouth or makes a move, my stomache fills with butterflies. His name is Brett - Brett Anderson.

He is the only punk this school has got. He dawns a crooners hairdo and interacts better with gangs than teachers. And it seems nowadays he's been getting closer and closer to me. Or is it my self conscience? I vowed to go through high school completely single, but Brett makes it harder for me to keep that self promise. Memories of past failed relationships enter my head everytime I think of asking Brett out. Sure, I've changed a lot since then, more than anyone here would ever know. But it still frightens me to have the occasional thought that Brett is just like the rest of them.

You see, this is my first year at this high school, junior year. I moved from Birmingham to Hayward's Heath when my grandpop died, leaving us without a house. So we all decided to move to this small town, where things'll be cheaper. Before then, I was a total carefree kid, overlooking many of the most important things in life. Moving here made me dramatically change. Now, I am more aware of details. I'm this school's aspiring poet, who also loves the strum of a delicate chord and the voice of a lovely man. I get that from Brett's band, Suede.

So, here it is, a perfect May afternoon. No clouds in the sky and a slight breeze in the air. Inspirational. I sit in the courtyard now, skipping gym class to write - since, when the mood strikes, you must let everything flow. I was just finishing a nice little piece when Clive came running to me, his messenger bag full of nerdy and Whitney Houston pins alike flopping against his thigh. He sat next to me on the bench.

"Oh...my...God..." he coughed. "Lesley."

"Catch your breath, man. Breathe, breath." He was fanning himself with his hands.

"Okay, remember how we watched Suede play at Owen's house, and they had that one gig, but you missed it, and I heard that it was totally bunker because of the sound system?"

"Um, yeah."

"Well, since Gina is all respectful and junk to the person running the Junior Prom, she got Suede to be the band and the theme is Misfits!"

"What?" My jaw dropped from surprise. " Our Suede? Brett and the boys? Misfits?!"

"Yes, our Suede. And by Misifits, everyone has to come dressed as the complete opposite of them. Isn't it amazing, Les?"

"Well...then what do I dress as? One of those wankers on the throne?"

"No - just dress in some punky, crassy thing. That's opposite enough." Clive looked as though he saw someone coming before saying. "Besides, you do sorta cover yourself up." With that, I could see a familiar figure come slinking through a closing doorway, scratching his head. It was Brett. As he neared us, Clive called to him.

"Eh, mate, congrats on the prom."

"Well, it's all thanks to Gina." Brett crossed over to our little table and gave this certain handshake that all the Misfit gents do. After they were through, Brett squeezed in between us.

"I haven't the slightest idea of what to wear, but then again, I'm going to be on the stage, not in the prom."

I'd just say wear your normal attire, Brett. It doesn't matter." Clive fixed one of his WH buttons as he said this.

"What songs will you be playing, Brett?" Shyness must loosen its reigns.

"So, she finally speaks." Brett referenced to our past wordless encounters. "It's nice to finally hear your voice. As for the songs, Les, I don't quite know. I've got some new material - don't know if I should use it at the prom though."

"Please, I'd love to hear them."

"Okay, let's make a deal. If I can read your writing, I will sing those new songs, kay?" I blushed. How do I reveal such romantic poetry aimed towards, well, him?

"Let me think about it," I replied.

"Okay then, love," he said getting up. "I best be on my way. It's for the prom - stagecraft."

"See ya later, Brett!" Clive and I said in unison.

"I'll be looking forward to it." He held my gaze as he said this, pausing before leaving off towards the auditorium.

"Looks like someone's getting a lift from you." Clive said when Brett was out of sight. "But, who wouldn't." He put his hand on my knee. You see, Clive is gay and is open about his relationship with a 20 year old man named Winston who works at VideoBarn. He's always cracking jokes about liking girls.

"Oh, get a life, Clive."

"I'll get a life when you get some balls and admit you like Brett."

"I do not like Brett." Fucking liar.

"Oh, bunker, he likes you and you like him."

"Maybe I do, so what."

"So what?" Clive seemed to be getting serious. "The guy is crazy for you! He wants your bod-ay as well as your mind."

"What?" He got goofy near the end.

"Ask him out already."

"No. I want things to go naturally."

"You're about the laziest person ever."

"It's not being lazy. I just don't want to come on too strong."

"Ah, it's your life. You gotta live through it." With that, he grabbed his bag and walked off just as the bell rang.

"Oh, shite."