"How do you feel about who you are?"
That was the writing prompt, the damn writing prompt for this godforsaken class. Who really cares how I feel about myself? Not this teacher sitting at the desk at the front of the classroom, with her tiny spectacles and crazy hair. Not my friends or these people in this classroom. I highly doubt anyone cares about how I feel about myself so what's the point of this prompt? Oh that's right, so I can pass this class and get good grades because that's what expected from where I come from. I can tell you how I'm supposed to feel about myself, I'm supposed to feel happy, rich, the best and better than everyone else. But I mostly certainly don't, I hate where I come from, I hate all these people I'm supposed to be associated with and I can't wait to get out.
"Carrie-Ann, are you done with this assignment or would you rather much draw?" The teacher said looking down at my desk. I have no idea when she arrived in front of me.
"I would much rather draw, Miss." I said staring at her. The whole class laughed, even Ponyboy, who hardly took notice to me.
"Well, if you don't finish this I will have no choice but to fail you." She said as she pushed her spectacles further up her skinny nose, how much farther they could go? She pushes them so close to her eyes I bet she gets headaches. As she walked back to her desk I couldn't help but make funny faces at her back. It caused the whole class to laugh, but luckily the bell rang before I could get in even more trouble.
About five books went crashing onto the floor as everyone was hurrying out of the class, some people laughed at who dropped them; it was Ponyboy Curtis. Sometimes I can't believe the sense of some people, I thought as I picked up some books and handed them to him. He looked at me and smiled but I walked towards the hallway before he could say anything.
"Hey Carrie-Ann, wait up!" I turned around to see Ponyboy coming up behind me as I was walking down the hallway towards the front grounds. When did he learn my name? I didn't even think he knew who I was.
"Oh hey Ponyboy, what's up?" I asked him as he started walking once he right next to me.
"I just wanted to say thanks for helping me." He said staring at me, gosh darn this boy was cute.
"Oh, of course," I smiled at him. Ponyboy and I didn't run in the same circles, he was a low class, or what they call 'greasers.' I was a high class, or what they call 'socs.' Our circles hate each other, go at each other's throats all the time, it isn't really accepted to be friends.
"Uh, I thought it was cool what you said to Mrs. Smith." He said as he smiled slightly. He always seemed like a shy boy, never talked much during class. But then again, he was in a 'soc' class, the only greaser I might add. He kept to himself all the time but he was smart, always had one of the highest grades in the class.
"Thanks, I was thinking much about it. It just sort of came out." If I was talking to one of my friends I would say something mean about Mrs. Smith, but it felt wrong to say something like that to Ponyboy. He seemed like such a kindhearted person.
"It was pretty funny; I've never heard someone say something like that to a teacher." I was right, he was kindhearted. We were already near the end of the grounds and I didn't know what to do. I realized that I wanted to keep talking to him, but I didn't want to stand here in front of everyone.
"So, I guess I will see you later." I said as I turned and started my way home.
"Hey Carrie-Ann?" Ponyboy called after me, I quickly turned around.
"Yeah?"
"Would you want to go see a movie?" He asked, he was pretty gutsy, or he really likes me. I hope it's the latter one.
"Of course," I smiled as I walked towards him.