A/N: Another sort of time jump. I'm sorry if you aren't enjoying such
things, but honestly, I can't think of anything else to put in here.
Judging by your reviews, I'd say you just want to find what happened. I'd
say a lot of shocked faces will be coming soon. This is not an average Kara
story. Although, I don't really have any "average" story. Because all but
one are AU's anyways. Whatever. You'll be surprised. That's all I'm trying
to say.
Reviews:
Silent Angel of Time: Hold your horses. Would you really want to skip all the drabble and just say, "Gordo leaves because (insert name here) (insert actions here)?" I don't think so. It's the suspense.
BrownEyedGurl: Yes, I don't like those family functions where you have to pretend to know people. And I don't like meeting cool people and never talking to them again. Happens too often.
Chapter 12
~Junior Year~
Lizzie and I were still together. This year, we only had one class together. Creative writing. We'd heard the teacher was a little eccentric, but still very helpful and decided to try it out. Plus, if I ever want to write my own movie, this class might actually come in handy.
The teacher was a little eccentric, but he was probably one of the best teachers I ever had. His name was Mr. Walker and I'd say he was very close to retirement. Even though he was so much older than us, he still understood us and tried to treat us like adults. Something many teachers say they want to do, but they never actually do.
I wasn't called Gordo or David in that class. On the first day of school, Mr. Walker told us that our actual names would not be used. We would all come up with one or two word names for ourselves and that would be our name for the year. Mr. Walker told all of us to drop the Mr., Miranda chose "Spunk," Noah went with "Apathetic" and I decided on "Director." Gee, I wonder why. Lizzie, however, went with "Content."
And we stuck to those names. All year. Sometimes, when I would hear the words used in different contexts outside of class, I would look around to see if the student matching that name was somewhere in site. Otherwise, why would someone be using it? And I'd always respond to Director.
Creative Writing wasn't set up the way I would have liked. I generally like to have a seat in the middle or sometimes in the back. There was no middle and no back in this classroom. There weren't even desks. Except for Walker's. There were just chairs. All in a circle. Everything was set up perfect for class discussions and weren't really meant for writing. Although we did write often in that class.
On one such occasion, we were asked to write a story about a childhood memory of ours. Lizzie wasn't the best writer I knew, but she still spent hours writing her work. She ended up writing a really nice piece too. However, Walker submitted mine and not hers.
"Director, please stick around for a couple minutes." He'd asked of me one day. "There's a writing competition and I was wondering if you'd be okay with me submitting your most recent work into it?" After everyone had left, he got straight to the point.
"A competition? Sure, why not?" It's not like I'll win anyways.
I told Lizzie later and she was a little upset about it.
The next week, I found out that I'd actually won. And that there was some sort of dinner I had to attend with my father.
Needless to say, I asked Walker if he could come instead, saying Dad had work to do. Walker came with me and it was a good time. After the ceremony, there was a small article in the paper of me, Walker and the other winners with their parents. I found it on the refrigerator.
~Senior Year~
I applied for college today. University of Washington. Cross your fingers for me.
A/N: We're getting there. We're getting there.
Reviews:
Silent Angel of Time: Hold your horses. Would you really want to skip all the drabble and just say, "Gordo leaves because (insert name here) (insert actions here)?" I don't think so. It's the suspense.
BrownEyedGurl: Yes, I don't like those family functions where you have to pretend to know people. And I don't like meeting cool people and never talking to them again. Happens too often.
Chapter 12
~Junior Year~
Lizzie and I were still together. This year, we only had one class together. Creative writing. We'd heard the teacher was a little eccentric, but still very helpful and decided to try it out. Plus, if I ever want to write my own movie, this class might actually come in handy.
The teacher was a little eccentric, but he was probably one of the best teachers I ever had. His name was Mr. Walker and I'd say he was very close to retirement. Even though he was so much older than us, he still understood us and tried to treat us like adults. Something many teachers say they want to do, but they never actually do.
I wasn't called Gordo or David in that class. On the first day of school, Mr. Walker told us that our actual names would not be used. We would all come up with one or two word names for ourselves and that would be our name for the year. Mr. Walker told all of us to drop the Mr., Miranda chose "Spunk," Noah went with "Apathetic" and I decided on "Director." Gee, I wonder why. Lizzie, however, went with "Content."
And we stuck to those names. All year. Sometimes, when I would hear the words used in different contexts outside of class, I would look around to see if the student matching that name was somewhere in site. Otherwise, why would someone be using it? And I'd always respond to Director.
Creative Writing wasn't set up the way I would have liked. I generally like to have a seat in the middle or sometimes in the back. There was no middle and no back in this classroom. There weren't even desks. Except for Walker's. There were just chairs. All in a circle. Everything was set up perfect for class discussions and weren't really meant for writing. Although we did write often in that class.
On one such occasion, we were asked to write a story about a childhood memory of ours. Lizzie wasn't the best writer I knew, but she still spent hours writing her work. She ended up writing a really nice piece too. However, Walker submitted mine and not hers.
"Director, please stick around for a couple minutes." He'd asked of me one day. "There's a writing competition and I was wondering if you'd be okay with me submitting your most recent work into it?" After everyone had left, he got straight to the point.
"A competition? Sure, why not?" It's not like I'll win anyways.
I told Lizzie later and she was a little upset about it.
The next week, I found out that I'd actually won. And that there was some sort of dinner I had to attend with my father.
Needless to say, I asked Walker if he could come instead, saying Dad had work to do. Walker came with me and it was a good time. After the ceremony, there was a small article in the paper of me, Walker and the other winners with their parents. I found it on the refrigerator.
~Senior Year~
I applied for college today. University of Washington. Cross your fingers for me.
A/N: We're getting there. We're getting there.