Status: Complete
A Search for Paradise
3. Thinking before speaking is vital to adult life.
I was sure after getting my breakfast that today would be a good day, until a mix up with right of way ended up with me dropping my sandwich on the floor. If it weren't for the piece of gum it landed on, I would've eaten it anyways; So much for my high-class breakfast. I threw up my middle finger, even though it was most likely my fault. I noticed the person in the other car only after I had my middle finger up; it was my math teacher Mr. Hanley, so much for my vow to think before I acted/spoke. Even though Mr. Hanley would no doubt roast me when I got to his class, his shocked expression was the funniest thing I'd seen in weeks. I laughed so hard that I almost had to pull over.
Mr. Hanley wasn't really a rude teacher but he was one of those teachers that were determined to change someone’s life. Maybe one of us would go on to make a movie about how he influenced our life. Mr. Hanley’s way of going about this was to give us long lectures about his life. Most times involving information that I never wanted to know, that is now burned into my brain. So I guess I don't hate Mr. Hanley per say, but I also can't say I know anything about math or Pre-Cal. I guess he is a pretty shitty teacher. When I get to school, I'm late and when I basically fall through the door and into Pre-Cal. I take one look at Mr. Hanley, and I almost start laughing again. "Kennedy can I see you in the hall, please?" he says before I even have a chance to put my bag down at my desk. "Yeah, sure," I make my way back into the hall, when he comes out he reeking of stale coffee and moth balls, which would be excusable if he was an old man, but he's in his mid thirties (he also still lives with his mom but that’s another story).
"Did you have a good morning?" he asks. I know where this is going, and I'm have tempted to say 'Yeah before some asshole cut me off,' but I just nod. "Me too, until I saw one of my students flash me a profane hand gesture," he says it like he’s genuinely hurt. I see right through it though. "Sorry," I say sheepishly. He nods understandingly, "I was your age once". That’s where the lectures always start they will no doubt always take ten years. "I wasn't a good kid, I was addicted to drinking when I was 13, and I threw up some hand signs in my day, too." I do interrupt this time "Mr. Hanley, you're not that old," I say. "You flatter me," he says before droning on about why I shouldn't get angry while driving. For a moment I think I'm back in Drivers Ed for a bit when he finally lets me go. I glance at the clock as I walk in, it's been 15 minutes even though it felt like I would start menopause at any minute.
I take my seat next to Kelly "What did Mr. Mama’s-Boy talk to you about?" Kelly inquired. I sigh exasperatedly "Well, I was driving today and some asshole cut me off, and I flipped him off. It turns out it was Mr. Hanley, so he decided I needed a lecture about hand gestures or some shit," I finish, Kelly is laughing loudly causing everyone to turn to look back at us. I might have given a fuck if I wasn't laughing too. Though I eventually stop laughing, Kelly has to leave the room to regain her composure. I gather from that alone that she's definitely high, when she comes back she looks like she's been hit by a car, but I don't say anything. The rest of class Kelly and I just talk to each other, and thankfully she doesn't bring Noah up. When the bell rang, I darted out first. Maybe I was always too eager to leave that class, but nobody could really blame me my next class was Psychology.
I knew people were still getting their classes switched around since the new semester had just started a week ago. I just hoped nobody took my seat. I sat in the back corner which was a bad idea because I’m nearly blind, and couldn't see anything on the white board. When I got to class, the first thing I noticed was that my chair was indeed filled "Ugh…" I mumbled as I made my way to the seat beside it. Maybe if I had more guts, I would've tapped on their shoulder and demanded that they get up. I'd much rather just sit in the available chair next to them than deal with any sort of conflict, though. Whoever was in my chair had their head down and their hood up so I couldn't even tell if it was anybody I knew.
When the bell rang they put their head up and I recognized the kid as Dagger (whose name was actually Daniel but being the giant douche that he is he decided he was too cool for the name Daniel). I muttered under my breath he looked at me briefly with those ridiculous white-eye contacts that he insisted on wearing. I'd heard him talking to some stupid too-original-for-labels girls about how the white contacts represented his connection to wolves, or some dumb fairy tale shit like that. He scanned the room again, and I felt his eyes on me again. I wanted my desk to swallow me up and shoot me into a new dimension. I knew he wouldn't talk to me because he only talked to people who were "unique", which was a word that he probably couldn't even spell. My seething was cut short when Mr. Reeder began to speak. Out of all of my teachers, he was my favorite, and though forming friendships with teachers was a definite no for me; I would occasionally say hello to him when I saw him in the hall.
"Do we have any new kids this semester? Stand up and tell us your name and something about you," Mr. Reeder said. First was a girl in the front, middle seat that nobody wanted "I'm Katie, and I play Basketball, Volleyball, and I run track." Katie had a sweet, high pitched voice that was nothing less than adorable. She actually seemed pretty nice, but Dagger huffed harsh laughter. I shot him a look and I wanted to shrink away when I realized that he'd seen me Mr. Reeder asked Katie a bit more about why she wanted to be in this class and such. Then he called for the next person which was Dagger, who seemed like it was such an inconvenience for him to stand up and rattle off some shit about himself. "My name is Dagger, I don't like labels and punk rock," he slid back into his chair, the chain on his wallet clanking against it. "Why do you call yourself Dagger?" Mr. Reeder asked. "Because it helps me connect to my Native American roots," he explained and I almost couldn't choke down the groan that bubbled up in my throat. It was glaringly obvious that he had no actual connection to Native Americans and he was in fact just blowing random shit out of his mouth to make himself sound like he wasn't just a giant dip shit.
Dagger put his head down with his headphones in, and I was perfectly fine with that until Mr. Reeder decided that we would finish a worksheet in pairs. My partner ended up being none other than the dip-shit himself, I tapped him lightly and he groaned pulling out one of his obnoxiously neon headphones. "We have a worksheet it’s in partners," I informed him politely. His answer was something along the lines of "The man is keeping me down, so I'm not doing shit," That’s how I ended up doing a worksheet by myself, whereas if I had a partner I would split up the work. It’s also how I ended up finishing it last.
By the end of the school day, I was exhausted and I almost immediately fell asleep, when I got home, only to wake up two hours later, in a cold sweat from a not so PG-13 dream about, none other than Noah. It took a second to process what had just happened, but when I did I felt nauseous. Dreams are like a window into the subconscious and apparently my subconscious had a giant lady-boner for Noah Clark.
Mr. Hanley wasn't really a rude teacher but he was one of those teachers that were determined to change someone’s life. Maybe one of us would go on to make a movie about how he influenced our life. Mr. Hanley’s way of going about this was to give us long lectures about his life. Most times involving information that I never wanted to know, that is now burned into my brain. So I guess I don't hate Mr. Hanley per say, but I also can't say I know anything about math or Pre-Cal. I guess he is a pretty shitty teacher. When I get to school, I'm late and when I basically fall through the door and into Pre-Cal. I take one look at Mr. Hanley, and I almost start laughing again. "Kennedy can I see you in the hall, please?" he says before I even have a chance to put my bag down at my desk. "Yeah, sure," I make my way back into the hall, when he comes out he reeking of stale coffee and moth balls, which would be excusable if he was an old man, but he's in his mid thirties (he also still lives with his mom but that’s another story).
"Did you have a good morning?" he asks. I know where this is going, and I'm have tempted to say 'Yeah before some asshole cut me off,' but I just nod. "Me too, until I saw one of my students flash me a profane hand gesture," he says it like he’s genuinely hurt. I see right through it though. "Sorry," I say sheepishly. He nods understandingly, "I was your age once". That’s where the lectures always start they will no doubt always take ten years. "I wasn't a good kid, I was addicted to drinking when I was 13, and I threw up some hand signs in my day, too." I do interrupt this time "Mr. Hanley, you're not that old," I say. "You flatter me," he says before droning on about why I shouldn't get angry while driving. For a moment I think I'm back in Drivers Ed for a bit when he finally lets me go. I glance at the clock as I walk in, it's been 15 minutes even though it felt like I would start menopause at any minute.
I take my seat next to Kelly "What did Mr. Mama’s-Boy talk to you about?" Kelly inquired. I sigh exasperatedly "Well, I was driving today and some asshole cut me off, and I flipped him off. It turns out it was Mr. Hanley, so he decided I needed a lecture about hand gestures or some shit," I finish, Kelly is laughing loudly causing everyone to turn to look back at us. I might have given a fuck if I wasn't laughing too. Though I eventually stop laughing, Kelly has to leave the room to regain her composure. I gather from that alone that she's definitely high, when she comes back she looks like she's been hit by a car, but I don't say anything. The rest of class Kelly and I just talk to each other, and thankfully she doesn't bring Noah up. When the bell rang, I darted out first. Maybe I was always too eager to leave that class, but nobody could really blame me my next class was Psychology.
I knew people were still getting their classes switched around since the new semester had just started a week ago. I just hoped nobody took my seat. I sat in the back corner which was a bad idea because I’m nearly blind, and couldn't see anything on the white board. When I got to class, the first thing I noticed was that my chair was indeed filled "Ugh…" I mumbled as I made my way to the seat beside it. Maybe if I had more guts, I would've tapped on their shoulder and demanded that they get up. I'd much rather just sit in the available chair next to them than deal with any sort of conflict, though. Whoever was in my chair had their head down and their hood up so I couldn't even tell if it was anybody I knew.
When the bell rang they put their head up and I recognized the kid as Dagger (whose name was actually Daniel but being the giant douche that he is he decided he was too cool for the name Daniel). I muttered under my breath he looked at me briefly with those ridiculous white-eye contacts that he insisted on wearing. I'd heard him talking to some stupid too-original-for-labels girls about how the white contacts represented his connection to wolves, or some dumb fairy tale shit like that. He scanned the room again, and I felt his eyes on me again. I wanted my desk to swallow me up and shoot me into a new dimension. I knew he wouldn't talk to me because he only talked to people who were "unique", which was a word that he probably couldn't even spell. My seething was cut short when Mr. Reeder began to speak. Out of all of my teachers, he was my favorite, and though forming friendships with teachers was a definite no for me; I would occasionally say hello to him when I saw him in the hall.
"Do we have any new kids this semester? Stand up and tell us your name and something about you," Mr. Reeder said. First was a girl in the front, middle seat that nobody wanted "I'm Katie, and I play Basketball, Volleyball, and I run track." Katie had a sweet, high pitched voice that was nothing less than adorable. She actually seemed pretty nice, but Dagger huffed harsh laughter. I shot him a look and I wanted to shrink away when I realized that he'd seen me Mr. Reeder asked Katie a bit more about why she wanted to be in this class and such. Then he called for the next person which was Dagger, who seemed like it was such an inconvenience for him to stand up and rattle off some shit about himself. "My name is Dagger, I don't like labels and punk rock," he slid back into his chair, the chain on his wallet clanking against it. "Why do you call yourself Dagger?" Mr. Reeder asked. "Because it helps me connect to my Native American roots," he explained and I almost couldn't choke down the groan that bubbled up in my throat. It was glaringly obvious that he had no actual connection to Native Americans and he was in fact just blowing random shit out of his mouth to make himself sound like he wasn't just a giant dip shit.
Dagger put his head down with his headphones in, and I was perfectly fine with that until Mr. Reeder decided that we would finish a worksheet in pairs. My partner ended up being none other than the dip-shit himself, I tapped him lightly and he groaned pulling out one of his obnoxiously neon headphones. "We have a worksheet it’s in partners," I informed him politely. His answer was something along the lines of "The man is keeping me down, so I'm not doing shit," That’s how I ended up doing a worksheet by myself, whereas if I had a partner I would split up the work. It’s also how I ended up finishing it last.
By the end of the school day, I was exhausted and I almost immediately fell asleep, when I got home, only to wake up two hours later, in a cold sweat from a not so PG-13 dream about, none other than Noah. It took a second to process what had just happened, but when I did I felt nauseous. Dreams are like a window into the subconscious and apparently my subconscious had a giant lady-boner for Noah Clark.