Goth & Donut

Spanish. Damn Spanish class. Of all the classes I’m taking, it has to be that one. I’m always a good student, even back home in London. Yet I am flunking probably the easiest class out there. I look at my paper and see where the tutoring center is located in campus. I know I need to pass this class. My parents, billet parents, heck my Junior team depends on me on getting the good grades. I walked into the center and find that my tutor is during my study hall period. Usually jocks can get away with anything, including not being caught with the likes of the geeks. But I know I have to do this. My Junior team depends on me!

“You got to be kidding me!” My tutor screamed, not happy of who she is tutoring. I don’t blame her.

It all started when I moved from London to Guelph over the summer after the Guelph Storm drafted me after my Freshman year. It is tough leaving my family as I’m very close to them. However, they are supportive of my dream of being a professional hockey player one day. Plus, it’s not like I was drafted by the SOO Greyhounds and is sent to the other side of Ontario. My billet family enrolled me at Guelph CVI, some high school in which most Storm players attend.

My first day at Guleph High was an eventful one. It seems like the girls at the school knows instantly if you’re a Storm player and already wants to be your friend, or in their case, their puck bunny. You’re even more popular than the football team and that’s already within 1st period. However, one moment during that first day is still in my mind.

I was getting something out of my locker, when a girl came up to me. She wasn’t like most of the girls at the school. She had shoulder length black hair that looks dyed. Her makeup was your typical emo/goth look; the bright red lips mixed with dark makeup around her eyes. Her wrists were full of spike bracelets as bright as her braces and were proudly of wearing Docs instead of the cute sneakers most of girls were wearing. She was no taller than 5’6”.

“I’m trying to get into my locker, if you don’t mind.” The Goth Girl trying to get through. Her locker is below my locker and was trying to push me out of the way. “You mind?”

“Sorry. It’s just my first day.” I replied to her, annoyed that she was acting as she owns the hallway.

“Well good luck. All these people here are a bunch of fuckers.” She opened her locker and grabbed her books and IPod. “I bet you’re one of these new guys who come here year after year acting like you’re God’s gift to all the sluts here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I mean I don’t know what is going on. I’m just the new kid in town, like most of the Storm rookies. At that point, one of her textbooks fell into the floor. We both reached down to grab it, only for me to grab her hand. For a moment, I was staring into her eyes. Underneath the dark makeup were these very big hazel eyes. It was more of a touch of honey than hazel but it stood out from all she was wearing all over her face. However, that moment was quickly lost when she grabbed the book and got up.

“Good luck in Hellhole High. You’re going to need it.” She said as she walked off to her class. In one day I’ve already made an enemy while being called a hero for being in the local Junior team.

That was the routine for the next year and a half with us. Luckily I was classmates with most of my teammates so I stay with them. However, every lunch hour, I can’t help at times look at that girl by the locker. She sits all alone by one of the benches, with no one talking to her. I’ve heard some of the guys talked about her, ranging from her being an undercover Satanist to her being a slut, but didn’t want to say anything. A part of me wants to talk to her but being a hockey player and all, it was best to stay away. Besides, I’m sure she already had me on her shit list. I can tell by the way she looks at me while walking down the halls. I better stay away.

Then something happened while we were in the second half of our Junior year. I was starting to fail in Spanish.

“I guess you’re my new tutor.” I told her as I sat down on one of the chairs. It’s during Study Hall and I decided to take that time to try to pass Spanish. I’m still shocked that I was failing Spanish. I mean Spanish and Portuguese are pretty close, eh? “Ms. Gomez sent me over to see if I can get some help for the midterm.”

“She did, eh?” Goth Girl sat down on the chair across from me. Today’s she pulled her black hair up in a ponytail, while decided to sport some glasses. I didn’t think Goth Girls wear glasses, let alone smart. I thought they’ll wear those funky contact lenses that would make a teacher send them to the principal’s office. “She couldn’t find anyone else to help your jock strap?”

“How do you know I was a jock? Anyway, I don’t even know what your problem is.” I was getting annoyed by how she was treating me. With the exception of the first day during Sophomore year, we never talked. All she gives me were dirty faces, like she wants to stump me like a roach. “I came here to get some help because I’m failing Spanish, not to fight. It’s not fair you’re treating me like shit because I’m a—“

“A jock?” She cut me off, acting as she was some smart ass. “I bet you also wanted to sleep with Ms. Gomez but she shot you down. Oh how typical of you!”

“No I didn’t. This is getting ridiculous. Would you please help me?” I was getting tired of her being sarcastic with me. I know I’m a good guy. Just because I play for the Guelph Storm doesn’t mean I’m a “douche”. I showed her my last 2 tests in which I got an “F” and her mood turned from bitchy to serious. “I really need to get my grades up or else my GPA might go below a C. Just help me. I’m not asking you out on a date.”

“And what do I get in return; um what’s your name?”

“Drew. My name is Drew.” I extended my hand but she just ignored it. “Anyway, if you want I’ll try to get my locker elsewhere. Heck I’ll set up a schedule in which we don’t run into each other. We’ve been doing a good job for the past year.” I’m trying to figure out how to get this girl to tutor me. My options are running thin. “Storm tickets?”

“I’ll think about the locker part. As for tickets, don’t want it.” Goth Girl appears to not be impressed.

“Well, what do you want? We’ve already spent half of Study Hall fighting over whether or not you’re going to tutor me. Just say the word and I’ll just go.” I was ready to get up until she stopped me.

“Fine. I’ll tutor you for the rest of the semester. However, it’s only on one condition; you follow my schedule. If you have practice and it’s a study session, too fucking bad. If you’re sleeping and supposed to meet up to perfect your past and present tense words, I’ll wake you up. I’ll get you your grade, but will make tu vida a living hell. It’ll be so bad; you’ll wish you were a London Knight.”

“How do you know about the Knights?” For a girl who didn’t want to take my Storm tickets offer, she did know a bit or two about the OHL.

“I’ve heard that everyone here hates them. This is Guelph after all.” She took off her glasses and put it in her case. “Anyway, are you ready to start, Drake?”

“Drew. And by all means, lead the way. But I never really caught your name.” I opened my Spanish book and was ready to let this Goth Girl tutor me. “Is it Julia? Jessica?”

“It’s Janelle. Janelle Beauchamp.”

“French, eh? Interesting.”

“Just open up to that chapter, Dwayne.” And that was the beginning of our beautiful friendship.