1
FARAMIR
School started up again today, thank God. I don't know how much more of that summer I could have taken – I mean, I can only spend so much time each day on my own. A guy can't live in isolation, you know? And I can only think of so many ways to entertain myself. I swear, I must have read every book in the library over the last two months. Wrote some nice songs, too, I suppose – though you can tell, listening to them, that I wasn't really into it a lot of the time.
Oh, well. It could be worse. At least Dad's taken to ignoring me, rather than criticizing. And why shouldn't he ignore me? I'm of no interest to him anymore; big brother Borkus is graduating this year, meaning he's just a year away from military college and all Daddy's dreams coming true. Shit almighty, but sometimes...
Anyway. My semester's not looking so bad. I've got art history first period, then physics, lunch (dear Lord, hope I pass that one), philosophy and English. As Pops would say, a heap of useless intellectual crap that won't get me through a day in the real world. Yeah, he's probably right. But it's what I do, you know? It's what feels right. I like writing, I like reading, I like thinking. Is that such a crime? Dad would think it was, I bet.
Damn it! I think too much about that guy, always trying to please him. When am I going to learn it's just never going to happen? I've got to focus on something else...
I'm in grade eleven this year. It's not so bad; you don't quite have to be making major decisions about your future yet, but the end is still in sight. I just have to make sure my grades stay up, though. I mean, not that it's ever been a problem – I pulled off a ninety-two percent average last year, which was nice – I just have to make sure I don't get distracted. And yeah, there are a few things that have a pretty good chance of distracting me.
So basically the goal is to spend as much time at school and work as is possible – anything to avoid coming home. I'm in the after-school Quenyan and Sindarin language program, which takes up an hour and a half, twice a week – you get a credit for it if you put in enough hours. I'm going to try to join the band, if they need a guitar player, and I always do set design for the plays, so that's another thing that should be coming up soon. Then there's my job at Veggie Village, which takes up about fifteen hours a week.
But thank God Dad let me drop out of Cadets! I guess he gave up on me, which is sort of disheartening and liberating at the same time. I'll admit I was going nowhere, and next to Boromir, who practically runs the show over there, I looked especially pathetic. I guess it's not that I don't have the skills or the discipline, it's just that, well... I don't really care. I don't want to do that sort of thing.
Anyway, where was I? First day back, right. My locker's in the science wing, which is pretty cool – not in terms of its proximity to my classes, but because it's right next to all the interesting people.
Aragorn's locker is just across the hall from mine. It's so weird that he's graduating this year; I mean, he's been, like, this permanent fixture in the school as long as I've been there. He's always been involved in everything cool, everything original. He basically runs the school, and he just radiates spirit. No wonder he got elected head boy – I voted for him myself, even. I mean, who else would you vote for? Not only is he smart, and popular, but he's just about the nicest, coolest guy you'll ever meet. He goes and hangs with freshmen hobbits at lunch – guys he doesn't even know – and you can just tell that it makes them feel great. He'll hold the door open for anybody, and give them a smile – even the homeliest little dwarf chick. And you can tell he means it, he's sincere. He's got nothing to gain – after all, he's already dating the prettiest, smartest, sweetest girl in the school, right?
Well... in most people's opinions.
Éomer's locker is right next to his. I think Éomer was the only guy who ever had any chance of beating Aragorn in the head boy race, but you could tell he didn't want it as much. After all, he and Aragorn are best friends, always have been. Some people even like Éomer better. I can see their point: he's really funny, and athletic, and creative. The ladies also seem to find him attractive. He is sort of the type, I guess: tall, blonde, well- built... and always smiling.
But I have to admit that, for me, Éomer has really only ever been one thing – Éowyn's older brother. Shit, but that girl is something else. I know people my age aren't supposed to fall in love, not for real. But honestly... She's so pretty, and smart, and so... different. She's so unafraid to be herself. And she's only eight lockers away from me!
I have to be honest with myself, though. She's never given me a second glance. I mean, we're even in some of the same classes, but we hardly ever talk. She probably has no idea I even exist. I am a bit of a dork, I guess. I mean, I'm not blind. I can see she's got her eyes on somebody else, but... Damn it, she'll never get him! I mean, personally, I'd choose Éowyn over Arwen any day, but Aragorn isn't the type to cheat. Can't she see that?
Oh, well. Even if she weren't interested in him, what are the chances she'd ever take me? We're not exactly soul mates, as far as anybody else could see. She's a bit of a metalhead, you know, with all these magazine cutouts of Voivod and Rush and Metallica all over the inside of her locker. Me, I've got all my song lyrics magnetized to the tin-can walls, and right at the back, this old, dorky cutout of Simon and Garfunkel. I mean, really. What kind of Voivod fan is going to fall for a guy who idolizes Art Garfunkel? It's hopeless.
But I really shouldn't act so dreary. Things aren't as bad as all that. I've got my friends, and my classes are cool, I guess... So things ought to work out okay. That's how I see it.
FARAMIR
School started up again today, thank God. I don't know how much more of that summer I could have taken – I mean, I can only spend so much time each day on my own. A guy can't live in isolation, you know? And I can only think of so many ways to entertain myself. I swear, I must have read every book in the library over the last two months. Wrote some nice songs, too, I suppose – though you can tell, listening to them, that I wasn't really into it a lot of the time.
Oh, well. It could be worse. At least Dad's taken to ignoring me, rather than criticizing. And why shouldn't he ignore me? I'm of no interest to him anymore; big brother Borkus is graduating this year, meaning he's just a year away from military college and all Daddy's dreams coming true. Shit almighty, but sometimes...
Anyway. My semester's not looking so bad. I've got art history first period, then physics, lunch (dear Lord, hope I pass that one), philosophy and English. As Pops would say, a heap of useless intellectual crap that won't get me through a day in the real world. Yeah, he's probably right. But it's what I do, you know? It's what feels right. I like writing, I like reading, I like thinking. Is that such a crime? Dad would think it was, I bet.
Damn it! I think too much about that guy, always trying to please him. When am I going to learn it's just never going to happen? I've got to focus on something else...
I'm in grade eleven this year. It's not so bad; you don't quite have to be making major decisions about your future yet, but the end is still in sight. I just have to make sure my grades stay up, though. I mean, not that it's ever been a problem – I pulled off a ninety-two percent average last year, which was nice – I just have to make sure I don't get distracted. And yeah, there are a few things that have a pretty good chance of distracting me.
So basically the goal is to spend as much time at school and work as is possible – anything to avoid coming home. I'm in the after-school Quenyan and Sindarin language program, which takes up an hour and a half, twice a week – you get a credit for it if you put in enough hours. I'm going to try to join the band, if they need a guitar player, and I always do set design for the plays, so that's another thing that should be coming up soon. Then there's my job at Veggie Village, which takes up about fifteen hours a week.
But thank God Dad let me drop out of Cadets! I guess he gave up on me, which is sort of disheartening and liberating at the same time. I'll admit I was going nowhere, and next to Boromir, who practically runs the show over there, I looked especially pathetic. I guess it's not that I don't have the skills or the discipline, it's just that, well... I don't really care. I don't want to do that sort of thing.
Anyway, where was I? First day back, right. My locker's in the science wing, which is pretty cool – not in terms of its proximity to my classes, but because it's right next to all the interesting people.
Aragorn's locker is just across the hall from mine. It's so weird that he's graduating this year; I mean, he's been, like, this permanent fixture in the school as long as I've been there. He's always been involved in everything cool, everything original. He basically runs the school, and he just radiates spirit. No wonder he got elected head boy – I voted for him myself, even. I mean, who else would you vote for? Not only is he smart, and popular, but he's just about the nicest, coolest guy you'll ever meet. He goes and hangs with freshmen hobbits at lunch – guys he doesn't even know – and you can just tell that it makes them feel great. He'll hold the door open for anybody, and give them a smile – even the homeliest little dwarf chick. And you can tell he means it, he's sincere. He's got nothing to gain – after all, he's already dating the prettiest, smartest, sweetest girl in the school, right?
Well... in most people's opinions.
Éomer's locker is right next to his. I think Éomer was the only guy who ever had any chance of beating Aragorn in the head boy race, but you could tell he didn't want it as much. After all, he and Aragorn are best friends, always have been. Some people even like Éomer better. I can see their point: he's really funny, and athletic, and creative. The ladies also seem to find him attractive. He is sort of the type, I guess: tall, blonde, well- built... and always smiling.
But I have to admit that, for me, Éomer has really only ever been one thing – Éowyn's older brother. Shit, but that girl is something else. I know people my age aren't supposed to fall in love, not for real. But honestly... She's so pretty, and smart, and so... different. She's so unafraid to be herself. And she's only eight lockers away from me!
I have to be honest with myself, though. She's never given me a second glance. I mean, we're even in some of the same classes, but we hardly ever talk. She probably has no idea I even exist. I am a bit of a dork, I guess. I mean, I'm not blind. I can see she's got her eyes on somebody else, but... Damn it, she'll never get him! I mean, personally, I'd choose Éowyn over Arwen any day, but Aragorn isn't the type to cheat. Can't she see that?
Oh, well. Even if she weren't interested in him, what are the chances she'd ever take me? We're not exactly soul mates, as far as anybody else could see. She's a bit of a metalhead, you know, with all these magazine cutouts of Voivod and Rush and Metallica all over the inside of her locker. Me, I've got all my song lyrics magnetized to the tin-can walls, and right at the back, this old, dorky cutout of Simon and Garfunkel. I mean, really. What kind of Voivod fan is going to fall for a guy who idolizes Art Garfunkel? It's hopeless.
But I really shouldn't act so dreary. Things aren't as bad as all that. I've got my friends, and my classes are cool, I guess... So things ought to work out okay. That's how I see it.