Muscle Princess, rock out!
Oh, this truck was bad. When it came out of the factory, the workers all gathered, to see this piece of joy, and the headmeister told them to leave it alone. He could already tell, it was bad to the bone.
Oh, the pure roaring beat of that motor. Oh, the mileage. The cloud of burnt pain it expiated every time it was turned on, or made to accelerate.
And it was slow. Stable. A patient machine. A manly beast, that could not, would not move aside for anyone or anything.
It laughed at Hummers and looked down upon Suburbans. This vehicle was so far beneath urban or sub-urban, it curved right back into super-urban. I swear, the only thing beyond that would have been an actual semi, or a large bus.
It was a slow, heavy machine with a smogful propensity; in my inexperienced hands, the fear and loathing of the other drivers was palpable. I behaved extra-carefully when approaching the grounds; I did not wish to antagonize my fellow classmates... not until I at least knew who it was safe to antagonize.
Speaking of which, as I approached the school's parking lot, I noticed, among the many cheap and antiquated cars that are the high-schooler's fare, an entire row of luxury european cars that stuck out like a sore thumb. I had a feeling I wouldn't have to ask about the owners of those.
As I walked out the car, the person who'd just parked next to me saluted me warmly, "Hello there. You must be New."
Was that a capital N I head? "Ineed I am New, but you may call me Benedict instead. How shall I call you, my upperclassman? You are an upperclassman, aren't you?"
"I am. Call me Erika. Truly, Benedict, you have the most appropriate name, given the circumstances." Was she calling my Muscle Princess cumbersome? Such an affront required swift retaliation!
I walked to her, and mockingly bowed. "True. I am, after all," and I picked her hand, smooth, "blessed to meet one charming such as you," smooch, "on such a charming day." Now fall before the might of my gaze, you who (probably) dared to mock my Muscle Princess.
She refused to sell it. "Okay, kid, you're taking it too far. Stop." Well that was a cold shower. Then she smiled warmly, "You're Charlie Swann's son, ain't ya? You should be proud of your dad."
Oh, but who wouldn't be! "I am."
"You're more handsome than I expected. More outgoing, too."
My appearance is the result of a careful diet, months of extenuating training, and the expressions worn by an intellectual. My personality is the result of a deliberate effort to reach out to others, and end my years of isolation. "I guess I take after my mom."
"You know, just because I asked you to stop acting like you're on a stage doesn't mean you have to hold everything back and shift into dullard mode."
I beamed. "But isn't the whole world a stage? And wouldn't such a long performance, a lifetime, be a reason to act dull, to hide in a scabbard, until it is time to be sharp and swift?"
She burst out laughing. It was a warm laugh.
"Man, you would have loved Mr. Shuemacher. He left, now, but back when he was here he started out the most amazing theater club. No-one believed in them, at first, but, year after year, they changed the school's culture to the core. You'll fit right in." Oh joy! Oh wonder! Oh crap! It was too good to be true.
"So what's the catch?"
"Well, the best stars of last year have graduated, and everyone is out talent-hunting. You show some promise. The drama club's schedule is quite intense-"
"-and it might interfere with my studies," I concluded, gravely.
What to do... This was the sort of time where one needs to stop, look ahead into the foggy reaches of the future, and ponder which of the paths of the crossroads one should take... such momentous, life-changing choices...
"I know you want to think about what you're going to do right now and how it will affect your entire life, especially given the penchant for theatricality you've just shown, but you've just been damned by the bell. Would you like some help getting to class?"
I was still pensive.
"...Yes, please."
She laughed heartily.
"Then get a move on!"