So, I've decided to start keeping a journal because life is boring I need something to do before I start imploding or some weird thing like that. Hey, it could happen. I could implode.
What should you know about me? There's nothing really that cool about me, though. I'd never consider myself one of the popular kids, of you catch my drift, but I do have more than enough friends to keep myself content.
Easily, my best friend is Carrie Perses. I've known her for almost thirteen years. We met because I accidently peed on her sandcastle, and we've been inseparable ever since. She's beautiful in her own, unique way. She had wavy, blonde hair that reached a few inches beyond her shoulders, and she had green eyes that reminded me of emeralds.
I had given her a friendship bracelet made of leather back in fifth grade, and she still wore almost everyday. It was gratifying to know that Carrie still kept that part of me with her.
Then of course are my two guy friends. Like, Carrie is the bomb and all, but there are some things you just can't talk about. Carrie is great and all, but she's not big on American Ninja Warrior. Meanwhile, Geoff and Brody..
My good pal Geoff was one helluva party animal. He wears a pink, cowboy duster that went all the way down to his ankles and blue board shorts. He honestly looks like a drug dealer, but instead of selling that good crystal blue, he's got all kinds of board wax on him.
Similarly, Brody, my other friend also has a very strong connection to surfing and the ocean. He also dressed in pink, but he didn't stand out as strongly as Geoff. He mainly wore a pink tank top and very similar board shorts to Geoff. Even when it gets really cold, Brody just puts on some white, long underwear with the aforementioned tank top. Also, I can use big words because I'm a smart cookie and can spell aforementioned without having to use spellcheck (I'm kidding. I had to use spellcheck, like, six times).
Brody, Geoff and I were walking about campus. There were all types of people here in the small town of Wrightwood. I can see in the corner, three goths discussing their preferred way to see society collapse. Ennui, Crimson, and Gwen.
On the other end of the spectrum, there was Alejandro, who seemed to have a new girlfriend every week. My friend Harold did the math. He'd run out of girls to play with sometime this year. In the meantime, I had to warn as many girls as possible about his intentions. Each one of them had the delusion that they could change Alejandro, and that just isn't the case.
I had missed Geoff and Brody over the summer. Geoff had been grounded for reasons he didn't really feel like sharing. Without Geoff, Brody and I hadn't really been able to work anything out over the summer, but we're here now.
I went to my locker and pulled out a few books. There was my English textbook, weighing in at three point seven pounds, my geometry textbook, adding another three point one pounds, and finally the House of Hades, just in case I got bored.
There were actually two teachers named Mr. Glover at Wrightwood High. I'm about eighty-seven percent sure they're a gay couple, but I don't know. Anyways, my first teacher of the day was Pete Clover, a stout, muscled man somewhere in his early sixties, and he taught physical education. The other Mr. Glover, Gerry Glover, was the tennis coach.
Luckily, Geoff, Brody, and myself all had this class. I mean, there's only about one hundred and twenty kids in our grade. The odds of being in the same class as your friends are relatively high compared to schools with bigger populations.
Pete had a very simple grading system. Each day was worth ten points. If you didn't wear your P.E. uniform, you lost two points. If you didn't participate, you lost eight. I took a calculated risk and didn't change.
Carrie waited on the numbers that were poorly spray painted into the poorly kempt asphalt. She seemed distracted by something behind me to say hi. I shrugged it off. Carrie had been acting really weird like that for awhile now. At this point, I was used to it and sorta expected it. That didn't mean I was okay with it, but Carrie had the right to do whatever she wanted.
I turned around and faced the front. Geoff walked out, his loose trenchcoat undulating behind him. By all means, he looked very impressive. "Devin, what's up, dude?" asked Geoff
"Doing alright, I guess. Could be better. Could be worse" I replied.
Carrie shook herself out of her trance and hugged me tightly.
I didn't like it when Carrie hugged me. I liked being close to her and everything, but she was a lot able-bodied than she thought she was. Her hugs kinda hurt. Much like the one she was giving now.
"I missed you, homie" said Carrie, not letting go.
"Aw, don't get all sappy on me. We saw each other, like, last month" I said, trying to hide my amusement.
"Devin, that's a long time. I need my comedic ray of sunshine in my life at least on a weekly basis"
"Yeah, dude, I'm with Carrie. Have you worked on any routines over the summer?" inquired Geoff
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that I'm a standup comedian. It's actually a lot harder than it looks. "I've been looking into teeball. There's probably something funny I've done that relates to teeball"
"Truth" said Brody, declaring his presence "It's like you try every sport in Wrightwood just to get some new material"
"Nope, I just suck at everything" I said. They all snickered. If you wanna be a comedian, you have to learn to ridicule yourself, otherwise no one will take you seriously. I know that sounds ironic, but it's true.
Carrie's friends departed the girl's locker room. Unlike the four of us, they had actually decided to change into our school's brown and gold uniform. Yes, our school colors are actually brown and gold. Feel free to retch. At least that's what my friend Tom said to Brody and I last year.
The first of Carrie's friends is a sophomore named Kitty. She was Asian-Canadian, like myself, but she was actually very tall. She was at least two inches taller than Carrie and had about half an inch on me. She acted like a little kid. That quality was originally annoying, but it had become charming. She felt like a little sister to me.
On the other hand, Emma felt like an older sister. She was shorter than Kitty, about Carrie's height. She had serious ambitions to become a public defender. I had to Google what that meant, if I'm keeping this one hundred percent honest. A public defender is a lawyer employed at public expense in a criminal trial to represent a defendant who is unable to afford legal assistance. Yeah, I directly copied and pasted this off the Internet. Shoot me.
As long as I am keeping this one hundred percent honest, I am Becky With The Good Hair.
"Heyyy" shouted Kitty, waving her arms around avidly. "I got my braces off!" she beamed widely to prove her point, and sure enough, her braces were gone.
Emma rolled her eyes "Ignore her. It helps,"
Sometimes, Emma's so-called realism sounded awful lot like pessimism. But that's okay. She was just hard to approach sometimes. And even harder to have a conversation with.
After being introduced to Philip DeFranco at a young age, I was a firmly believed in the power of conversation. I wouldn't hate someone just because they were homophobic or vindictive. Not gonna kill someone? Not gonna rape someone? Not gonna touch a child inappropriately? We'll get along great.
Brody looked at me "Man, those two are polar opposites"
"Unless their names are Arctic and Antarctic, I'll go ahead and disagree with you"
Geoff winced "You can't land them all, dude"
Brody scratched the back in disorientation. "You're blowing my mind, man" he said
"There are two poles on the planet, Brody" interpreted Emma "And Devin thinks that we live on opposite ends. It's a reference to the fact that Kitty and I are substantially contrasting"
Brody was even more confused "The planet has two poles? But there three tetherball poles by the basketball courts." Brody started massaging his temples "Devin, please don't use smart guy humor in front of me. It gives me a cephalalgia everyday, bro"
I was about point out that cephalalgia was a very smart way of saying headache, but trying to explain that to Brody might be a real migraine. I decided to let it be.
"So, Carrie, how are you and the secret guy" said Kitty, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Carrie pulled away from me and turned cherry red. "It's better than it used to be, but I still have a long way to go."
So Carrie had a guy in her life. I hope he treated with Carrie with respect. For his sake.
"Well, I certainly hope that you two moves things along." said Emma portentously "Because Big Pines High is hosting that Homecoming Dance next Friday."
"Good luck with the guy" I consoled Carrie. She didn't exactly have the best luck with guys. Last year, she was in a relationship with a dude named Ryan, but he confessed to me that he had feelings for Stephanie, the captain of the water polo team. Why he made it known to me, I have no idea. Maybe he thought I was loyal to him over Carrie. Rookie mistake. I broke the news to Carrie immediately. She wasn't herself for several weeks.
Pete finally showed up. Pete was a man in his early sixties. He was in exceptional condition for someone his age. His black, unthinned hair was slicked back and reached the base of his cleft chin. His eyebrows were fringed and colossal. He wore a two day stubble that wasn't gray either. His arms were surprisingly bulky, even if his legs were on the gaunt side.
Like everyday, he wore a single-colored, informal collared shirt with white jean shorts. Today, his shirt was the color of cheddar cheese. I made a mental not to compare Pete to Lady Gaga in my routine in Bluestone Beach on Friday night.
"Okay guys, sorry I'm late" apologized Pete "I was at a seafood themed dance and pulled a mussel"
I cringed as he laughed at his own joke. Carrie and a few others chuckled.
"Anyways, for those freshman maggots or the fortunate souls that haven't had me before, I always ask a question before class. If the person gets it right, we can have a dance party. My son, Cody, recommended Pillowtalk by Zayn. He also mentioned something about a No Sleep remix. I guess Zayn was pretty tired after he was done making that one." More prudently quiet laughter ensued.
"What's the question?" asked Kitty fervently
"What do the inhabitants of Zimbabwe call 50-Cent?" asked Pete.
"Oh, I know this one" said a girl in the back.
"Alright. Judging by my attendance sheet, your name is Ellody. That's a weird name" said Pete. "What's your answer?"
Ellody started talking at a very fast pace. I was both impressed and a little intimidated "Contrary to popular belief, one of the fundamental languages spoken in Zimbabwe is English. Therefore, 50-Cent would still be referred to as 50-Cent."
Pete grinned. I knew from my experiences from Mr. McLean last year that it's never good when a teacher starts smiling. Ever.
"The correct answer was 400 million dollars. Because laughing at other country's inflation problems will distract us from our own. Go take a lap." commanded Pete.