Star Bryte
Miss Know it All
“Come on Evelyn!” Yelled Scarlett, “Why does it take forever for you to get ready!” she says as I scoot myself into the car’s driver’s seat.
“Well, if you want to get to school, then stop complaining! I’m not driving the car until you stop whining your head off. You should act more like your sister.” I say.
“You are getting on my nerves Evelyn! Just drive the crappy car. And by the way, unlike my sister, I enjoy talking.” Scarlett says. I don’t reply there is just no use in arguing with Scarlett because if I did, I would end up losing in the end because great majesty Scarlett always wins. Yeah. Right.
When we get to the local middle school I parked in the back of the parking lot, with my old ’72 Volvo 1800ES, or maybe it says RS I’m not sure, and pop the trunk of the piece of junk. “Come on guys; get your stuff from the trunk.” Only Plum, my other sister, moves from the back seat. “Scarlett! Get out the car. Don’t make me embarrass you in front of all your little friends. I swear I will drag you from your behind to your first hour.” Still no answer. I walk over to the back seat of our little car, only to find Scarlett staring straight at the back of my head rest. This kind of freaked me out. “Scarlett?” I ask, “Come on you’re freaking me out!”
I started to do whatever any sane person would do. I could hear the scream of panic from her as I kicked her little leather covered bum on to the school lot. As I waved to Plum, I kicked the gas and turned up the radio. I wondered what just happened back there. Well, I guess I’d never know. Can’t stay at home can’t stay at school, I hear the Runaways play. Their songs were awesome! They really haven’t been so popular for the last couple years, but they were still cool. As Cherry bomb ends, I start singing along to Flaming Schoolgirls, as I pulled up to my best friend’s house, Vivian. She’s waiting outside for me, even though I was ten minutes early. No surprise, she’s always ready for anything. She was reliable as any person could get.
“You really need to get over the Runaways.” Viv said as she scoots into the car. “I don’t get your obsession over them. I mean they’re just a bunch of angry stoners; especially that one girl, JoAnne debt?”
“Her name is Joan Jett, and you would be angry if people wouldn’t accept you as a woman rocker too.” I said to her defense. “Whatever, I can’t wait till we get to play for the homecoming dance!”I exclaimed. I was so pumped; Joan Jett mostly inspired me to become a rockstar. I learned how to play the guitar, just because she knew how.
“Since when is the “Princess of darkness” into homecoming?”Viv asks shocked with sarcasm.
“Because, Viv we get to play in front of the whole sophomore class and show them our undeniably awesome talent.”I said with maybe too much charisma.
“But I’m pretty sure more than 92% of the student population hasn’t even heard of the Runaways, or the Black Veil Brides, or half of what we play.”She said.
“Yeah. So…..” I said, not seeing the point.
“All of our songs are like that.”Viv says pointedly.
“Just chill Viv, you’re being so uncool. We could get discovered!”I screamed excitedly.
“Yeah right. “She said with a sarcastic face.
We finally arrived to school, thankfully without breaking down, and watched as all the pedestrians walked in front of my car. It was so tempting to run over many of those people, but I didn’t since I wasn’t really supposed to. I hated about 90% of the sophomore population since they always bugged me about my clothes and music style. So I’m inspired by Joan Jett, and I wear leather and black tulle, is that a problem? I don’t think so. But apparently everyone else does, except for Viv of course. People call us the Rockettes. I don’t mind much since it’s got the word rock in it. (My favorite genre of music) I finally decide to park in the empty space in the back of the parking lot.
“Well, we’re here. We’re stuck in this unintellectual waste land for 8 more hours.”I say as I step out of the car with my combat boots clunking on the black top. I mean what did we really learn here? All that I’ve learned was that if you didn’t climb to the top of the social latter you were considered an epic fail by others. As she stepped out of the car, I noticed her outfit. It seemed like something I would definitely pick out.
“Hey, I like your outfit today. You finally decided to dress appropriate for your label.” I said smiling contently.
She didn’t reply, we just continued to walk to the school gate. We silently awaited the daily routine of all of the popular girls killing us with sarcasm. Popular girls would mean the Jhana crew. Jhana is as cliché with the word popular as you can get. She’s mean, pretty (in boys’ eyes), rich, and dumb and has all the boys drooling over her for some unknown reason.
“Ahh, the Rockettes have finally arrived,”Jhana says, “Well, look Vivi finally started dressing like a rock wanabe. Just like Evey.”Jhana was an unnatural blonde, which no one noticed even though she had brown hair two years ago in the 8th grade. She wore skimpy; two sizes too small clothes from Forever 21 and Pac Sun. I personally had nothing against her brand name clothing; it just bothered me that she shoved it in my face all the time. So what If I didn’t want to become a “hipster”? I mean it doesn’t matter anyway, half the “hipsters” here, were just posers.
“First of all my name is Evelyn, not Evey,”I said with disgust,” and second of all she’s dressing in the only cool way to dress. You all should think of the meaning of your skimpy clothes, ‘cause for me it’s just plain stupid.” Okay maybe I was over exaggerating. It’s not the only cool way to dress. But Jhana’s version was not so rad in my book.
“Well Miss Know-it-all, what is the meaning of your clothes? If you think you know so much; to me it looks like you’re trying too hard to stand out.”Jhana said infuriatingly.
“The meaning of my clothes is independence, something none of you gingerbread men seem to have.”I retorted, feeling my face flushing with red.
“Gingerbread men?” she asked smartly.
“You’re all cut and made the same.”I said as I walked away from the conversation to my first class. Most “nerds” hated confrontations with the popular people, but I quite enjoyed verbal arguments.
“Hey, if you think about it, crack is made from a rock!”She said yelling across the lot, “You get it guys?”She added, asking her friends for back up.
“No it isn’t!” I said. That was just too funny. I don’t remember crack being a rock. Not that I would know.
“Thanks.”Viv says.
“No problem. Anytime you want to start an argument, just call me and I’ll be there.”
As the morning went on, in second hour Mr. Burkowitz decided 7 pages of slope and algebraic expressions was enough homework for me and Jhana because of our ‘disturbing outbursts that interrupted the class.’ That did no help for me because I had band practice after school. We were going to rehearse for the homecoming dance. Mr. Burkowitz irks me. It’s a good thing I had all weekend to do the assignment since its Friday.
“You’re dead.” Jhana whispers from beside me. Lucky me; assigned to sit by Jhana in math for the whole year.
I stare at her, “Yeah I’m real scared of someone who cries when her heals pinch her feet.”
“You better be. It’s a good thing you have no life. No one will care when you’re gone.” She said, probably trying to scare me.
I stopped talking to Jhana, because I’m tired of playing her silly little games. I’m kind of tired of always playing games. I kind of would like to be taken seriously for a change. As my mind starts to wonder, I start thinking of my family. My dad moved out from us when I was in the 6th grade, my mom is working very weird odd jobs to make ends meet. I’m still treated like a joke around the house. Not everything I say is a riddle or game. I’m not sure my mom or sister knows that. That’s why I’m doing the gig at the homecoming dance. To show I’m serious about being a rockstar, it’s not just a silly dream.
I remember staring boredly at the television in science, and then I remember waking up from a terrible dream 20 minutes later. My dream went something like this, I was sitting in the green room of a stage listening to music and strumming my guitar. Then the stage director called me to stage, I was already dressed and ready to go, but when I got out there I realized I was about to play for homecoming! I forgot almost all the notes the Cherry Bomb and almost all the words. Everyone was laughing at me, especially Jhana. Then, many bucket loads of seaweed started falling from the stage. Thus, my favorite outfit was eternally ruined.
“So I’m going to pass out a worksheet about the video. I hope you were paying attention.”Said Mr. Kelly. Oh, crap. Well, I guess I’ll copy off Viv.
During lunch I got a tray of mystery meat and lemonade. Gross. Then I decide whether I want to drink my juice in the telephone booth, in the hall or the bathroom. Before I go over the pros and cons I see Viv actually got us a table! I go over to Viv in a very fast walk, almost tripping over Morgan’s purse. Morgan is the best friend of Jhana. Almost a twin but Morgan has red hair.
“I can’t believe you got us a table!”I exclaim.
“Yeah, don’t get scared. But this is Hannah’s table.”Viv says.
Gasp, Hannah is the most scary, independent girl in all the school. “Why Viv? Do you want to die before you turn 16? No one sits at Hannah’s table.”
“I thought maybe she wouldn’t mind sharing.”Viv says, looking like she’s prepared for a beating. Oh, she needs to stop getting scared of me. We’ll work on it later.
“Why are you sitting at my table? This is my table.”We hear a deep voice. After a very dramatic pause, it says “but if you would like, you could sit here.”
We turn around and look into the blue eyes of Hannah. I wonder if she’s always been so tall. “Kay. Thanks.”I say scared out of my mind.
“Call me Storm.”Hannah says.
“Storm? If that makes you happy,”I said turning back towards the table. Then I feel the bench leaning towards the right. I look right and see Storm has sit beside me. Then, she unpacks a 24 inch sub with every kind of ham on it.
“Want some?”Storm asks, I guess trying to be polite. She points the wheat bread with dead pig out in front of me. I begin to start gagging as I think about my pet pig being eaten smothered in mayo and a thin piece of lettuce on top.
“No thanks.” I said timidly.
Then someone walks up that no one expects. I peer at the persons skinny jeans and cotton tee and wonder why such a person would walk up to our table. Gulp.
“Well, if you want to get to school, then stop complaining! I’m not driving the car until you stop whining your head off. You should act more like your sister.” I say.
“You are getting on my nerves Evelyn! Just drive the crappy car. And by the way, unlike my sister, I enjoy talking.” Scarlett says. I don’t reply there is just no use in arguing with Scarlett because if I did, I would end up losing in the end because great majesty Scarlett always wins. Yeah. Right.
When we get to the local middle school I parked in the back of the parking lot, with my old ’72 Volvo 1800ES, or maybe it says RS I’m not sure, and pop the trunk of the piece of junk. “Come on guys; get your stuff from the trunk.” Only Plum, my other sister, moves from the back seat. “Scarlett! Get out the car. Don’t make me embarrass you in front of all your little friends. I swear I will drag you from your behind to your first hour.” Still no answer. I walk over to the back seat of our little car, only to find Scarlett staring straight at the back of my head rest. This kind of freaked me out. “Scarlett?” I ask, “Come on you’re freaking me out!”
I started to do whatever any sane person would do. I could hear the scream of panic from her as I kicked her little leather covered bum on to the school lot. As I waved to Plum, I kicked the gas and turned up the radio. I wondered what just happened back there. Well, I guess I’d never know. Can’t stay at home can’t stay at school, I hear the Runaways play. Their songs were awesome! They really haven’t been so popular for the last couple years, but they were still cool. As Cherry bomb ends, I start singing along to Flaming Schoolgirls, as I pulled up to my best friend’s house, Vivian. She’s waiting outside for me, even though I was ten minutes early. No surprise, she’s always ready for anything. She was reliable as any person could get.
“You really need to get over the Runaways.” Viv said as she scoots into the car. “I don’t get your obsession over them. I mean they’re just a bunch of angry stoners; especially that one girl, JoAnne debt?”
“Her name is Joan Jett, and you would be angry if people wouldn’t accept you as a woman rocker too.” I said to her defense. “Whatever, I can’t wait till we get to play for the homecoming dance!”I exclaimed. I was so pumped; Joan Jett mostly inspired me to become a rockstar. I learned how to play the guitar, just because she knew how.
“Since when is the “Princess of darkness” into homecoming?”Viv asks shocked with sarcasm.
“Because, Viv we get to play in front of the whole sophomore class and show them our undeniably awesome talent.”I said with maybe too much charisma.
“But I’m pretty sure more than 92% of the student population hasn’t even heard of the Runaways, or the Black Veil Brides, or half of what we play.”She said.
“Yeah. So…..” I said, not seeing the point.
“All of our songs are like that.”Viv says pointedly.
“Just chill Viv, you’re being so uncool. We could get discovered!”I screamed excitedly.
“Yeah right. “She said with a sarcastic face.
We finally arrived to school, thankfully without breaking down, and watched as all the pedestrians walked in front of my car. It was so tempting to run over many of those people, but I didn’t since I wasn’t really supposed to. I hated about 90% of the sophomore population since they always bugged me about my clothes and music style. So I’m inspired by Joan Jett, and I wear leather and black tulle, is that a problem? I don’t think so. But apparently everyone else does, except for Viv of course. People call us the Rockettes. I don’t mind much since it’s got the word rock in it. (My favorite genre of music) I finally decide to park in the empty space in the back of the parking lot.
“Well, we’re here. We’re stuck in this unintellectual waste land for 8 more hours.”I say as I step out of the car with my combat boots clunking on the black top. I mean what did we really learn here? All that I’ve learned was that if you didn’t climb to the top of the social latter you were considered an epic fail by others. As she stepped out of the car, I noticed her outfit. It seemed like something I would definitely pick out.
“Hey, I like your outfit today. You finally decided to dress appropriate for your label.” I said smiling contently.
She didn’t reply, we just continued to walk to the school gate. We silently awaited the daily routine of all of the popular girls killing us with sarcasm. Popular girls would mean the Jhana crew. Jhana is as cliché with the word popular as you can get. She’s mean, pretty (in boys’ eyes), rich, and dumb and has all the boys drooling over her for some unknown reason.
“Ahh, the Rockettes have finally arrived,”Jhana says, “Well, look Vivi finally started dressing like a rock wanabe. Just like Evey.”Jhana was an unnatural blonde, which no one noticed even though she had brown hair two years ago in the 8th grade. She wore skimpy; two sizes too small clothes from Forever 21 and Pac Sun. I personally had nothing against her brand name clothing; it just bothered me that she shoved it in my face all the time. So what If I didn’t want to become a “hipster”? I mean it doesn’t matter anyway, half the “hipsters” here, were just posers.
“First of all my name is Evelyn, not Evey,”I said with disgust,” and second of all she’s dressing in the only cool way to dress. You all should think of the meaning of your skimpy clothes, ‘cause for me it’s just plain stupid.” Okay maybe I was over exaggerating. It’s not the only cool way to dress. But Jhana’s version was not so rad in my book.
“Well Miss Know-it-all, what is the meaning of your clothes? If you think you know so much; to me it looks like you’re trying too hard to stand out.”Jhana said infuriatingly.
“The meaning of my clothes is independence, something none of you gingerbread men seem to have.”I retorted, feeling my face flushing with red.
“Gingerbread men?” she asked smartly.
“You’re all cut and made the same.”I said as I walked away from the conversation to my first class. Most “nerds” hated confrontations with the popular people, but I quite enjoyed verbal arguments.
“Hey, if you think about it, crack is made from a rock!”She said yelling across the lot, “You get it guys?”She added, asking her friends for back up.
“No it isn’t!” I said. That was just too funny. I don’t remember crack being a rock. Not that I would know.
“Thanks.”Viv says.
“No problem. Anytime you want to start an argument, just call me and I’ll be there.”
As the morning went on, in second hour Mr. Burkowitz decided 7 pages of slope and algebraic expressions was enough homework for me and Jhana because of our ‘disturbing outbursts that interrupted the class.’ That did no help for me because I had band practice after school. We were going to rehearse for the homecoming dance. Mr. Burkowitz irks me. It’s a good thing I had all weekend to do the assignment since its Friday.
“You’re dead.” Jhana whispers from beside me. Lucky me; assigned to sit by Jhana in math for the whole year.
I stare at her, “Yeah I’m real scared of someone who cries when her heals pinch her feet.”
“You better be. It’s a good thing you have no life. No one will care when you’re gone.” She said, probably trying to scare me.
I stopped talking to Jhana, because I’m tired of playing her silly little games. I’m kind of tired of always playing games. I kind of would like to be taken seriously for a change. As my mind starts to wonder, I start thinking of my family. My dad moved out from us when I was in the 6th grade, my mom is working very weird odd jobs to make ends meet. I’m still treated like a joke around the house. Not everything I say is a riddle or game. I’m not sure my mom or sister knows that. That’s why I’m doing the gig at the homecoming dance. To show I’m serious about being a rockstar, it’s not just a silly dream.
I remember staring boredly at the television in science, and then I remember waking up from a terrible dream 20 minutes later. My dream went something like this, I was sitting in the green room of a stage listening to music and strumming my guitar. Then the stage director called me to stage, I was already dressed and ready to go, but when I got out there I realized I was about to play for homecoming! I forgot almost all the notes the Cherry Bomb and almost all the words. Everyone was laughing at me, especially Jhana. Then, many bucket loads of seaweed started falling from the stage. Thus, my favorite outfit was eternally ruined.
“So I’m going to pass out a worksheet about the video. I hope you were paying attention.”Said Mr. Kelly. Oh, crap. Well, I guess I’ll copy off Viv.
During lunch I got a tray of mystery meat and lemonade. Gross. Then I decide whether I want to drink my juice in the telephone booth, in the hall or the bathroom. Before I go over the pros and cons I see Viv actually got us a table! I go over to Viv in a very fast walk, almost tripping over Morgan’s purse. Morgan is the best friend of Jhana. Almost a twin but Morgan has red hair.
“I can’t believe you got us a table!”I exclaim.
“Yeah, don’t get scared. But this is Hannah’s table.”Viv says.
Gasp, Hannah is the most scary, independent girl in all the school. “Why Viv? Do you want to die before you turn 16? No one sits at Hannah’s table.”
“I thought maybe she wouldn’t mind sharing.”Viv says, looking like she’s prepared for a beating. Oh, she needs to stop getting scared of me. We’ll work on it later.
“Why are you sitting at my table? This is my table.”We hear a deep voice. After a very dramatic pause, it says “but if you would like, you could sit here.”
We turn around and look into the blue eyes of Hannah. I wonder if she’s always been so tall. “Kay. Thanks.”I say scared out of my mind.
“Call me Storm.”Hannah says.
“Storm? If that makes you happy,”I said turning back towards the table. Then I feel the bench leaning towards the right. I look right and see Storm has sit beside me. Then, she unpacks a 24 inch sub with every kind of ham on it.
“Want some?”Storm asks, I guess trying to be polite. She points the wheat bread with dead pig out in front of me. I begin to start gagging as I think about my pet pig being eaten smothered in mayo and a thin piece of lettuce on top.
“No thanks.” I said timidly.
Then someone walks up that no one expects. I peer at the persons skinny jeans and cotton tee and wonder why such a person would walk up to our table. Gulp.