Freak!
Second Day Ghosts
I had been freezing my ass of since chemistry. Ironically I had given my hoodie to anni the beginning of class. Nice go. History I was dying. Keyboard I read my book for 40 minutes in silence of the class. Lunch better. I officially hate French class. Geometry made me feel better. I wore my green day shirt today. But since 3rd period, I’ve worn my hoodie backwards in class all day. Extreme temperatures you could say. He, geometry freak, (it really doesn’t fit him but I don’t know what else to call him) was dressed more appropriately today. He wore gray converse designed vans like shoes, with gray shorts, studded belt, and a gray faded shirt I couldn’t read but it had some designs on it. On his right hand an arm warmer, it was black and extended from his knuckles all the way up half up to his elbow, followed by a metal bracelet of cleats and another black bracelet. His left hand had another arm warmer, also black, but extending all the way to his elbow,. I believe I saw buttons on one sides. His hair was in a ponytail again. I didn’t realized how long it was.
Today I realized that he was the sweet gentle man I saw beyond the white spandex and shirt and black fishnets. He was very polite. Had a good sense of humor, and his voice had a tranquilizing brashness to it. Deep and smooth, not too deep though just right. He was very tidy, neat and organized. Seemed to be a good or even better student that any prep girl. He came into the room, sat down, and shuffled through papers. He asked Mr. Noppenberg when the notebook due. He told him Friday. He ever said thank you to Mr. N. Then he asked for a pencil sharpener. He asked about whether we had to talk about the ghost itself in the essay. I liked his tone of voice. Humorous yet serious yet timid and brash. He wrote his essay as me: pausing in though, in uncertainty and writing. His handwriting was small and neat, perfect compared to the chicken scratch of the guy in front of me. He finished his essay in a rush, neatly teared it out as I did and afterwards, even ripped out the remaining border of the page in the spiral. So oddly neat. He kept tucking his shirt in his pants as he had done with the spandex. A girl criticized him. He counted down. He talked to a girl in front of my row. About a gun and how you shoot in a certain place it kills you like snaps fingers that! He counted down more. 2:26. But 2 minutes ago it was 2:24. He groaned in a laughing bit. I wanna eat…. I was starving myself. Who wasn’t? I chatted with Michelle behind me. 2:27 the bell rang. We left. I took off my hoodie. I saw him go down to the bottom of the stairs and slap hands with another long haired rocker dude. Hopeless, I walked in the opposite direction to my locker, I wondered, nothing much at all. Except that I did not want to be depressed and have that cycle same as last year. I have to find a way to talk to him. So I got over ut, telling myself, it’s only the 2nd day of school…you have a long way to go. I must find his real name. Though I don’t mind calling him FREAK! Or Geometry Freak.
Today I realized that he was the sweet gentle man I saw beyond the white spandex and shirt and black fishnets. He was very polite. Had a good sense of humor, and his voice had a tranquilizing brashness to it. Deep and smooth, not too deep though just right. He was very tidy, neat and organized. Seemed to be a good or even better student that any prep girl. He came into the room, sat down, and shuffled through papers. He asked Mr. Noppenberg when the notebook due. He told him Friday. He ever said thank you to Mr. N. Then he asked for a pencil sharpener. He asked about whether we had to talk about the ghost itself in the essay. I liked his tone of voice. Humorous yet serious yet timid and brash. He wrote his essay as me: pausing in though, in uncertainty and writing. His handwriting was small and neat, perfect compared to the chicken scratch of the guy in front of me. He finished his essay in a rush, neatly teared it out as I did and afterwards, even ripped out the remaining border of the page in the spiral. So oddly neat. He kept tucking his shirt in his pants as he had done with the spandex. A girl criticized him. He counted down. He talked to a girl in front of my row. About a gun and how you shoot in a certain place it kills you like snaps fingers that! He counted down more. 2:26. But 2 minutes ago it was 2:24. He groaned in a laughing bit. I wanna eat…. I was starving myself. Who wasn’t? I chatted with Michelle behind me. 2:27 the bell rang. We left. I took off my hoodie. I saw him go down to the bottom of the stairs and slap hands with another long haired rocker dude. Hopeless, I walked in the opposite direction to my locker, I wondered, nothing much at all. Except that I did not want to be depressed and have that cycle same as last year. I have to find a way to talk to him. So I got over ut, telling myself, it’s only the 2nd day of school…you have a long way to go. I must find his real name. Though I don’t mind calling him FREAK! Or Geometry Freak.