Sonic's Story: Part 1
I never was very amused with life. I guess that's why life itself made me see what I wanted by tossing me into a decent car crash.
It takes time to transform,
Way back when you were born,
Want evidence?
Find the holy fence
—(G)-13-1-14
I'm a 17-year-old jock. I rule the cheerleaders. My life is ever-hollow.
"Sonic? Sonic!"
"Mmm?"
"Jeez, it's like you go into a coma sometimes . . . . I said, 'Did you get the answers to the Calculus test on Thursday?"
"Dude, it's been two hours! Don't jizz your jeans!"
I was talking to Knuckles, another fellow jock. Around that time, we were at the high school: Misty Park High. Knuckles was a Junior, like me. As for the answers to that test, Shadow, also a Junior, gave me them for a race each.
"Put your running shoes on," Knuckles began, "and race for those damn cheats!"
"Dude! It's only seventh period! Just this class with Shadow and we'll both race during passing period to eighth!"
"Hmph," I opened the door to English, seventh period, and we parted ways to get to our seats. "Need help with any English homework, Sonic?" Amy asked. Amy. Poor Amy. Because of our one year age difference, Amy had fought her very hardest to skip from Geometry, in Freshman Year, to Calculus, in Junior Year, just to see me. Now she was a grade up in math, which nearly made her fail the first semester, and simply had too many duties as a Freshman, even worse this year.
"No, thanks. You need to study yourself. I don't like the fact that you almost flunked. You'd be without me if you went back to Sophomore Year, ya know?" I always tried to convince her to study for herself. The first time, her answers got me a 48, so began our ritual.
The bell rang, and the students got silent. The Tardies, as I called them, walked in the door at the last second, followed by an irritated-looking teacher.