Status: New Layout :))
The (Not Really) Rad Story About the Girls in Their Pursuit to Be Awesome
The Awesome Family
This chapter is in dedication of one of my best friends, Otoniel I. Trejo Awesome.
Well, he's mine. Forever. We're very much in love and married... Technically married, I mean.
Whoa, the TV shows on TV keep getting worse and worse. All the story lines are either used or horrible. And I was watching the Zenon movie last night, and I realized that she's very chubby. And ugly.
My days have been filled with horrible track and field training, failing math class (for the first time), boring advanced art class, very nasty and perverted science experiments, boring lunches, scary history classes with a pedophile teacher, rocketry with some weird old man that looks like Santa Claus, weird orchestra classes with a class that could care less about playing their instruments, and being assigned way too much work than humanly possible (although I get it done; does that mean I'm not human?!)
But at least I have three class periods with Mr. Awesome. And majority of after school clubs with him. Well except Thursdays, it depends if he wants to go to History or Math or Book Club. I usually stay at book club.
*
Butterflies in my stomach, sitting on the cheap, uncomfortable couch in the library. Confined by nothingness and books, surrounded by nonexistent people. Staring at each other, sitting on opposite ends of that couch, looking away when he looks back. Pretending I'm not staring. But I can't help it. He's nothing special, really. Well maybe his intelligence and lack of persistence in schoolwork (his I.Q. is 149, and he's only twelve). Okay, so maybe I'm a couple months older than him, but that doesn't matter. Maybe he is the third youngest in 7k; age is but a number.
"Come closer. I'm all lonely-ish." He says softly, as if he doesn't want me to hear. I stifle a laugh. I move closer to him, elbows touching. "Closer," he says. I move as close as possible, until I'm practically sitting on him. "Lets read," he says.
He pulls out th book, The Missing Piece, by Shel Silverstein. We begin to read. "This is our story. It's just like us," he explains, even though it's a children's book. He abruptly stops in the middle of the story. "But after this, it's not us. Because we are together. And we will never be apart." We turned to eachother, stare deeply into eachothers eyes and draw our faces closer together, like very dull magnets.
"EW GOSH! P.D.A.!!!" A sixth grader yells. I sigh. Almost.
*
This happened around a month and a half ago. Even though I'm in seventh grade, I'm fully convinced I'm in love, but in a way that's 'i love you, but I'd leave you if I had reason'. Plus, he's a best friend and like a brother to me. Since that Time, we haven't had any 'moments'. I'm extremely disappointed.
Well, he's mine. Forever. We're very much in love and married... Technically married, I mean.
Whoa, the TV shows on TV keep getting worse and worse. All the story lines are either used or horrible. And I was watching the Zenon movie last night, and I realized that she's very chubby. And ugly.
My days have been filled with horrible track and field training, failing math class (for the first time), boring advanced art class, very nasty and perverted science experiments, boring lunches, scary history classes with a pedophile teacher, rocketry with some weird old man that looks like Santa Claus, weird orchestra classes with a class that could care less about playing their instruments, and being assigned way too much work than humanly possible (although I get it done; does that mean I'm not human?!)
But at least I have three class periods with Mr. Awesome. And majority of after school clubs with him. Well except Thursdays, it depends if he wants to go to History or Math or Book Club. I usually stay at book club.
*
Butterflies in my stomach, sitting on the cheap, uncomfortable couch in the library. Confined by nothingness and books, surrounded by nonexistent people. Staring at each other, sitting on opposite ends of that couch, looking away when he looks back. Pretending I'm not staring. But I can't help it. He's nothing special, really. Well maybe his intelligence and lack of persistence in schoolwork (his I.Q. is 149, and he's only twelve). Okay, so maybe I'm a couple months older than him, but that doesn't matter. Maybe he is the third youngest in 7k; age is but a number.
"Come closer. I'm all lonely-ish." He says softly, as if he doesn't want me to hear. I stifle a laugh. I move closer to him, elbows touching. "Closer," he says. I move as close as possible, until I'm practically sitting on him. "Lets read," he says.
He pulls out th book, The Missing Piece, by Shel Silverstein. We begin to read. "This is our story. It's just like us," he explains, even though it's a children's book. He abruptly stops in the middle of the story. "But after this, it's not us. Because we are together. And we will never be apart." We turned to eachother, stare deeply into eachothers eyes and draw our faces closer together, like very dull magnets.
"EW GOSH! P.D.A.!!!" A sixth grader yells. I sigh. Almost.
*
This happened around a month and a half ago. Even though I'm in seventh grade, I'm fully convinced I'm in love, but in a way that's 'i love you, but I'd leave you if I had reason'. Plus, he's a best friend and like a brother to me. Since that Time, we haven't had any 'moments'. I'm extremely disappointed.
♠ ♠ ♠
My life and my almost-first kiss.