Part two:
Disclaimer: I don't own Trevor. He's in the original script.
A/N : Thanx to "Grace" and "Star of Light" for the reviews. Trust me, praise REALLY helps me. Thus, inspiration to try to decipher my handwriting and convert my hand-written Mandella diary to typed Mandella diary. And thanx to anyone else who reviews, cuz I luv reviews, it's just I started this chapter after I read their's. (Oh, I know it's short. Having computer problems)
April 27th, 1999, In a tutoring session, 2nd period
Trevor is taken with me. I was trying to teach him basic geometry, but he wouldn't listen. He just kept gazing at me. I tried to get him on the subject by cupping his chin in my hand and turning it from me to the triangular prism on page 324. "Look, Trevor," I began, with only a touch of annoyance. " It's really easy-"
He smiled. And I knew this was futile. Without a bit of concentration, he WOULD fail geometry, for the third time. "You're a freedom fighta'. Be proud sista'." Then he beat his chest twice and gave me a peace sign in some form of gang-like greeting.
Sigh. It's bad enough that he's incredibly ignorant about William, but he thinks he's black. Most at my school call him and his group White Rastas. I put down my pencil and closed the open geometry book. "Trevor, I'm Mandella, with 2 Ls. I'm NOT related to Nelson Mandela. Please try to remember. We've been over this before. I'm not a political figure, and I've never been to South Africa.
I almost laughed at his pathetically confused look. His last two working brain cells put themselves together and spat out the only "truth" he retained from World History. "But you freed our people."
I hated to do this. I rolled my eyes and told him the 'unmagic' words. "Your people are white, suburban boys who smoke too much weed. I have not freed you, Trevor." William-ness kicked in, and I grabbed his arm dramatically. "Only you can free yourself." With that, the bell rang and it was off to next period. Finally!
-Mandella
April 27th, 1999, Lunch, 1:13 p.m.
William. William. William. William. Wil Grrr…Have to put this away for a sec. Kat's glaring at me.
April 27th, 1999, 5th period, 1:30 p.m.
She had a reason. He dad is threatening to make her go to this totally male chovanish rich-boy school, so she can be a Husky-just like him. We rolled our eyes. That is just like him. Trying to keep her in sight. See her mom ran away with a med. Student, leaving her 'midwife' husband, freshman and 7th grade daughters behind. Now he's got it in his head that his girls will leave him and get pregnant. I can almost, almost, see his point. He's trying to be a good father figure. He's just doing poorly. Now Kat is mad because of the unfairness that Bianca gets to choose what collage she wants to, because she's his 'princess'.
But Kat annoyed me. She interrupted my attempt to be a spiritualist and contact William. It's besides the fact that I wasn't succeeding. So I told her, "You had your chance to be like Bianca." Bianca is spoiled, pampered, pretty and popular. Kat gave up her 'princess' title shortly after her mother left. Now, we both know that my comeback was stupid, and we began to laugh. Her like Bianca, NOW? No. She made the right choice. The lunch bell rang, and we went in our separate directions. On the way to class, I caught a view of Patrick Verona again. Verona. An idea flickers in me, and I'm sure it's from William himself. Maybe that spiritual attempt worked…
-Mandella
April 27th, 1999, In Bleachers, After school, 3:15 p.m.
Verona. His name is still in my mind. I did a horrible job of trying to convince Kat that I am actually watching her soccer practice. Fortunately, Kat trusts me and no questions were asked. Thank goodness.
I never understood soccer. I never even excelled, and it bored me. But it is better to watch than bear baiting, which a taste for was never acquired. I am watching something even more so interesting than soccer.
Patrick.
He's taking to Joey…doesn't fit…but hmmm…
He's going to Kat. Good…
They talk.
I KNEW IT!
Life is good and (for the time) worth living.
Is it a coincidence that his last name is Verona? A coincidence that they didn't like each other? A coincidence that Romeo and Juliet took place in Verona and THEY didn't like each other (well, the families)?? I think not.
-Mandella
Disclaimer: I don't own Trevor. He's in the original script.
A/N : Thanx to "Grace" and "Star of Light" for the reviews. Trust me, praise REALLY helps me. Thus, inspiration to try to decipher my handwriting and convert my hand-written Mandella diary to typed Mandella diary. And thanx to anyone else who reviews, cuz I luv reviews, it's just I started this chapter after I read their's. (Oh, I know it's short. Having computer problems)
April 27th, 1999, In a tutoring session, 2nd period
Trevor is taken with me. I was trying to teach him basic geometry, but he wouldn't listen. He just kept gazing at me. I tried to get him on the subject by cupping his chin in my hand and turning it from me to the triangular prism on page 324. "Look, Trevor," I began, with only a touch of annoyance. " It's really easy-"
He smiled. And I knew this was futile. Without a bit of concentration, he WOULD fail geometry, for the third time. "You're a freedom fighta'. Be proud sista'." Then he beat his chest twice and gave me a peace sign in some form of gang-like greeting.
Sigh. It's bad enough that he's incredibly ignorant about William, but he thinks he's black. Most at my school call him and his group White Rastas. I put down my pencil and closed the open geometry book. "Trevor, I'm Mandella, with 2 Ls. I'm NOT related to Nelson Mandela. Please try to remember. We've been over this before. I'm not a political figure, and I've never been to South Africa.
I almost laughed at his pathetically confused look. His last two working brain cells put themselves together and spat out the only "truth" he retained from World History. "But you freed our people."
I hated to do this. I rolled my eyes and told him the 'unmagic' words. "Your people are white, suburban boys who smoke too much weed. I have not freed you, Trevor." William-ness kicked in, and I grabbed his arm dramatically. "Only you can free yourself." With that, the bell rang and it was off to next period. Finally!
-Mandella
April 27th, 1999, Lunch, 1:13 p.m.
William. William. William. William. Wil Grrr…Have to put this away for a sec. Kat's glaring at me.
April 27th, 1999, 5th period, 1:30 p.m.
She had a reason. He dad is threatening to make her go to this totally male chovanish rich-boy school, so she can be a Husky-just like him. We rolled our eyes. That is just like him. Trying to keep her in sight. See her mom ran away with a med. Student, leaving her 'midwife' husband, freshman and 7th grade daughters behind. Now he's got it in his head that his girls will leave him and get pregnant. I can almost, almost, see his point. He's trying to be a good father figure. He's just doing poorly. Now Kat is mad because of the unfairness that Bianca gets to choose what collage she wants to, because she's his 'princess'.
But Kat annoyed me. She interrupted my attempt to be a spiritualist and contact William. It's besides the fact that I wasn't succeeding. So I told her, "You had your chance to be like Bianca." Bianca is spoiled, pampered, pretty and popular. Kat gave up her 'princess' title shortly after her mother left. Now, we both know that my comeback was stupid, and we began to laugh. Her like Bianca, NOW? No. She made the right choice. The lunch bell rang, and we went in our separate directions. On the way to class, I caught a view of Patrick Verona again. Verona. An idea flickers in me, and I'm sure it's from William himself. Maybe that spiritual attempt worked…
-Mandella
April 27th, 1999, In Bleachers, After school, 3:15 p.m.
Verona. His name is still in my mind. I did a horrible job of trying to convince Kat that I am actually watching her soccer practice. Fortunately, Kat trusts me and no questions were asked. Thank goodness.
I never understood soccer. I never even excelled, and it bored me. But it is better to watch than bear baiting, which a taste for was never acquired. I am watching something even more so interesting than soccer.
Patrick.
He's taking to Joey…doesn't fit…but hmmm…
He's going to Kat. Good…
They talk.
I KNEW IT!
Life is good and (for the time) worth living.
Is it a coincidence that his last name is Verona? A coincidence that they didn't like each other? A coincidence that Romeo and Juliet took place in Verona and THEY didn't like each other (well, the families)?? I think not.
-Mandella