#36 – Inside
Marco
I do my best to stay out of trouble at school, honestly. But sometimes, it's just too easy.
I was zoned out in Chemistry. This was not unusual. The teacher saw it and called on me for an answer – also not unusual. Mrs. Parrot was fond of making inattentive students look dumb.
"What are the main differences between the three stages of matter – Marco?"
Last class of the day. Five more minutes to get through without saying something I'd regret. Could I pull it off?
"A solid is a favor from a friend, a liquid is what you drink when you're thirsty, and a gas is what comes out of your backside when you overdo the Taco Bell."
Guess not.
After the bell rang and I picked up my detention slip, I tried to leave in a hurry. I wouldn't have to serve the detention until tomorrow, but if Chapman heard about it and ran into me before I made myself scarce, I'd be sure to get an earful.
A tug on my backpack made me turn around. It was the girl who sat next to me, Stephanie. Stephanie was cool – she was full-on goth, but I liked her despite the black nail polish and dark clothes. She wrote poetry in her notebook, and sometimes I peeked. She was really good at it – not that I'd ever tell her that.
She was looking at me with this strange mix of disapproval and curiosity. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she said, sounding annoyed.
"Do what?" I asked, genuinely confused. We barely ever spoke; now she was getting on my case?
"You always do that to yourself. Get yourself in trouble by trying to make people laugh." She gave an irritated toss of her hand toward the kids filing out of Chemistry behind us. "It doesn't make them like you."
"Are you sure about that? I thought Greg was going to pee his pants," I joked, but it seemed to make her mad.
"You're smarter than that," she admonished me. "You like to play the clown, but that's not the truth of who you are. That's not who you are on the inside."
This conversation was starting to take a left turn toward Bizarro-town. "What the hell are you talking about?" She wasn't the only one who sounded annoyed anymore.
She never did give me a good answer. "I don't like seeing you get yourself into trouble for the amusement of those jerks. You're better than that. Just do me a favor, and keep your mouth shut the next time a stupid joke comes to mind. At least while I'm around."
"Whatever," I mumbled. Just because she didn't think I was funny didn't give her the right to boss me.
The creep-factor doubled – she smiled and reached out to pat me on the shoulder. "You're a good guy." Without another word, she walked away.
"What a freak," I said under my breath.
But I didn't get another detention in chemistry for the rest of the semester.