Ugh, I am so annoyed with the entire lack of reviews I've been getting here. It's rather annoying. And this chapter is like 6 pages long. Seriously, it's awesome. Really. And the big finale approaches... It's sad, really.
Don't own Recess. I do own Jack Fitzgerald and Vivian van Gogh, though. And Rage, I guess...
Don't own Catcher in the Rye though. That was and will always remain J.D. Salinger's. I do own a paperback copy of it, though, that only cost 98 cents. Oh... Here's Spinelli's schedule, for the few that are actually reading this and give a crap about her schedule.
First Hour: Metalworking
Second Hour: Algebra II
Third Hour: Chemistry
Fourth Hour: Study Hall
Fifth Hour: Spanish III
Sixth Hour: Advanced Placement European History
Seventh Hour: Art
Eighth Hour: Honors English II
Don't ask me how she got into the Honors classes. I'm as puzzled as you are. I mean, yeah. It just works better for the author that way.
Actually, the beginning of this chapter reminds me of summer school... Anyways...
I swirl the colors round and round, mixing blue, red, yellow, white, and black haphazardly on the canvas together. Add some value there; take some value away from here, badda bing, badda boom, and I'm almost done. Just gotta do two more things. Hmm, now where did I put that water? Oh, there it is. Hmm. Now, a little will work fine. Just a little tip, there, yeah, that's enough water.
Perfect. Now, to throw it on the canvas. One, two, three, and GO! Almost perfect, except for one thing. Must pull my hand back and release...NOW! Pow! Okay, I think it's done. Now I've just got to sign it, set it on the drying rack, and wash the paint off my hands... And just in time too. Wait, I almost forgot to sign it. Now where did I put the brush? Ah, there we go... Spinelli. And I'm done.
But no, things for me are never that simple. Ms. van Gogh just had to come over, didn't she? Ugh.
"Spinelli, this is an exquisite piece of work. I'm in love with it. The blends of light and color... The lines and perfect mixture of geometrical and organic shapes... The symmetry and value... It's marvelous. What is it titled?" She asks, in a dreamy voice.
How am I supposed to understand any of that?
"Uh, well, I call it... Rage?" I mutter.
She smiles, nodding happily.
"I love the way you showed that rage, anger, and hatred can mask and overcome all other issues, like logic, love, trust, and friendship," Ms. van Gogh said happily.
Whoosh. Ouch. That went halfway over my head, bonking me on the way over. Uh oh, I really don't like the look Miss V's giving me.
"Why're you looking at me like that? Am I under a microscope or something?" I begin questioning.
However Ms. V stops me, pushing me out the door.
"Spinelli, dear, don't you have to get to Honors English II?" Ms. van Gogh asks, hurrying me out of the room.
How she knew I was in Honors English I do not know. I also don't know how I got in Honors English, but that's beyond the point. Glancing at my watch and running through the halls, I note that I have approximately three minutes to get to my locker, grab my notebook, my battered copy of Catcher in the Rye, and still manage to arrive on time for my class, which is approximately halfway across the school. Oh boy. I'd better hustle.
Run, spin, grab, slam, spin, run, jump, sit. One second after I'm in my seat, the bell rings.
"Nicely done, Ms. Spinelli," Mr. Fitzgerald joked.
I scowled. The Miss part is really annoying. I rolled my eyes and Mr. Fitzgerald began lecturing. Man, only he can suck the fun out of Holden Caulfield. I mean, he's an okay teacher and all, he can even be kind of fun sometimes, but, well, he's a jerk. Oh well.
When I wake up, about twenty minutes later (I've perfected catnapping in class unnoticed), there's an assignment written on the board. Some essay about Holden's fragile psyche and career choice. I can't remember. It was pretty stupid. I scramble out of this class as soon as the bell rings; it is my last hour anyways.
Now, let's see, what homework's due tomorrow? Hmm, Pages 215-217 and A-Y on Page 910 or Algebra (II...ugh). Chemistry, hmm, well, let's see... I have to make a drawing of the atomic model of five radioactive elements...Now where did I put my Periodic Table? Oh well.
I really oughtta stop having these long inner monologues. It would give me way more time to pay attention to my surroundings. And that would be way better, because then I wouldn't run into T.J. so much, like I did just now.
He offers a hand to help me up, as he is already standing, but I push it away and scramble to my feet. I don't need any help from anyone. Now that I'm on my feet, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that life just isn't that easy, especially for me. So, naturally, Teej grabs my arm. Of course, some of his smarmy jock friends are nearby, so when I elbow him in the stomach, their faces are pictures of shock.
Though I don't understand why they are that way. I mean, I've been in A LOT of fights. Sometimes I just wish that they'd all leave me alone.
"Ooh, Teej, man, did you EVER strike out!" Some idiot friend of his remarks in awe.
I do not have time for this. I'm going to be late for my grounding. Joy.
"Shut up, Lawson!" T.J. snaps, angrily, running after me.
Man, we probably look like idiots. Well, he is. I have a bus to catch, so I'd better put on some speed. Okay, cleared the doors. But, alas, there goes my bus. Why do I always get the short end of the stick?
No, seriously. I mean that literally. I did get the short end of the straw. That's why I had to kiss T.J. the first time all those years ago. How many times have I kissed him since? Ugh, I've lost count. That can't be good. It's not good. Oh well, guess I'll have to walk home.
T.J. uses this precise moment to catch up with me. Lovely.
"Hey, Spinelli, wait up! We ought to talk!"
Oh brother. I just knew I shouldn't have worn these boots today. Ugh. And it's miles home. Literally. Hey, wait; don't I have track practice today? Oh yeah.
"Hey, wait, where are you going?" He asks, perplexed.
I roll my eyes, running past him and back into the school. Ah, here's the gym. Uh oh. There are only about three people in here. I'd better change fast. Let's just hope that he doesn't follow me into the girl's locker room. Better lock the door just in case.
Now, I have about three seconds to change. That leaves one for struggling with my shoes, another for changing out of my clothes, and another for changing into my gym clothes. Okay and POW!
One, two, three, and I'm DONE! Yay! I go to go outside, and, once again, run into Teej. This is really starting to piss me off. I quickly push myself off the floor, noticing disgustingly that his eyes are riveted to my legs.
"T.J., stop staring at me, you perv!" I snap, pushing past him, running out the gym door.
My coach spots me, shooting me a scowl and blowing his whistle.
"Spinelli!" He shouts, "You should've been here ten minutes ago! Where were you?"
I shrug, stepping in line with the other girls, who are all scowling at me. In case you haven't figured out, Mr. Fitzgerald is my coach and the other girls hate me because I'm better than all of them at everything. No, seriously, I've set records. Well, for the girls anyways... I mean, how on Earth am I supposed to beat Vince? I mean, honestly!
Mr. Fitzgerald glares at me.
"Okay, Spinelli, we're going to run the one hundred yards now. We're aiming for a time somewhat around the boy's record, set by a Mr. LaSalle that I'm sure that you know, right, Ms. Spinelli?" Mr. Fitzgerald goads.
"Oh, I know him all right," I mutter violently under my breath.
The other girls giggle. Everyone saw me kiss him, didn't they? Ugh, trust my friends to not show up the one time that they should've... Uh oh, there's T.J. I ought to get started then, right. Mr. Fitzgerald blows the whistle and I take off, speeding across the football field. Got... To... Run... Now...
Phew. Now I'm there. I mean... Here! How long was that? Hmm...That's strange, everyone's still running. Man, they must be slow. Okay, Coach recorded my time. Uh oh, T.J.'s coming at me. From behind.
I'd better do another wind sprint. And fast. Hmm, so this is what football players feel like. Wait, what am I saying? I play football. Well, I think it's safe to say that I outran all the girls and T.J. Uh oh, that would be Coach's whistle. He's going to yell at me.
"Everyone, come on over!"
We did. Coach turns to me first.
"Spinelli, nice work. You beat LaSalle's record for the dash," Coach says, beaming with pride.
The other girls gape, and I am among them.
"Fitz, you serious? I beat Vince? But he does wind sprints in his sleep..." I mutter, unbelieving.
Fitzgerald nods, showing me my time. Wow.
"Why'd you run so fast anyways?" He starts to ask, but then I look over his shoulder and see T.J. coming at me.
I gulp, pointing at the panting boy.
"That would be why, Fitzy," I mutter.
Giggles surround me, and Coach turns around, puzzled and scowling at T.J.
"Whoa, you're afraid of T.J. Detweiler?"
"If T.J. Detweiler was running after ME, I'd be running towards him, not away from him."
"She must be out of her mind."
I turn around and scowl at them.
"I'm right here, you know. And if you were me, you'd be running away from him too," I hiss, frustrated.
They give me a look like I'm the nutcase. I turn to Coach Fitzgerald, gulping.
"Hey, Fitzy, can we do something else, please? I don't care what it is, hurdles, the mile, anything!" I panic, looking back at T.J. warily.
Fitzgerald gives me a strange look, but shrugs, flipping to his clipboard, nodding to me.
"Okay, everyone who's doing hurdles for the match three days from now, which is, I might add, the final one, please report to me. The rest of you girls, well, take a water break. We're doing shot-put next," Fitzgerald barks at me.
Oh, good, I'm doing hurdles. About half of the girls leave and go back into the Gym. Fitz paces in front of us.
"Ladies, the trick to hurdles is not to injure yourself and to try and jump every single hurdle in your path while running quick enough so that you maintain your momentum and do not run into the next hurdle, because if you do, it can almost be a sort of domino effect. Now, absolute focus and concentration is necessary for this sport, and even a slight distraction can make the difference between pain and winning," Coach explains.
We get ready and shoot off at the whistle. I'm doing pretty well, actually, I've cleared about half of them, when Teej comes and runs beside me. How am I supposed to jump over crap when he's next to me?
"Hey! Wait up!" He pants.
Oh boy. I'm still trying to focus and keep my eyes on center. I'm still ahead of everyone, but I just knocked into one.
"We need to talk!" He blurts.
Another one down. He's really lighting my short fuse. So, naturally, I look back, very stupidly at him.
"No, we don't, idiot!"
And then I run into a hurdle full on, and tumble, head-over-heels, unto the ground. Ouch. I think I killed everything in me. Well, I have to get back up and beat all those annoying witches. Run, run, charge, leap!
There we go. Made another one. Uh oh, here's another. And another.
"Look, Spinelli, how many times can I apologize before you forgive me?" Teej bemoans.
This causes me to run into not one, but two strategically placed hurdles. Ouch!
Oh, great, now I have to get up. And fast. Run, run, run. I can multitask and talk to him while doing hurdles. I just can't look at him. Eh, I'm still beating everyone else anyways.
"Teej, there are some things I can never forgive you for. It's never gonna be like it was before. And anyways, I'm still pissed at you for yesterday. You were a jerk to me... Several times, actually." I mutter, concentrating on my jumping, and barely being able to manage a landing as he replies.
"Spinelli, you're the one who pushed me down the stairs! Every rib I have is bruised thanks to you!" He retorts.
I try and focus ahead and retort at the same time.
"Well, I wouldn't have had to push you down the stairs if you hadn't broken my window, climbed my roof, and snuck into my bedroom!" I shout, barely clearing another hurdle.
T.J. rolls his eyes and I struggle to keep my eyes forward. I've been doing this forever.
"I just wanted to talk to you, to explain myself, Spin!" T.J. hollers.
This seriously pisses me off. Especially since I just jumped over a hurdle and crashed, literally, into another one.
"Well, you didn't do it well enough! You need to stop trying stuff on me, Teej! You were way out of line, and you need to understand that!" I snap, crashing into yet another hurdle.
Ouch. Okay, now I've got to do it. The finish is only a few hurdles away. I have to jump them as fast as possible, so that I won't be distracted when T.J. offers a rebuttal. That's it.
One down, well, not literally. There's the second, and I clear it! The third...
"I get that now. Honestly, Spinelli, I do. And, well, there's something I have to tell you..." T.J. begins, and I really don't think I'm going to like what he's about to say.
"Well, we've been spending a lot of time together, and it really reminds me a lot of the old days, you know, Spin? Anyways, uh, it's really serving to, well, change, I guess, the feelings I have towards you. And, well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I, well, I-" He continues until I interrupt him.
I'm kind of stunned because he's admitting something big, and this is terrifying. Seriously. I crashed into the last hurdle just as he was saying this, landing in a very painful position with my body all twisted and contorted.
"Well, Spinelli, I want... to be friends with you," Teej finishes nervously.
Oh, I am so glad he said that. Seriously. But I'm not glad that Coach is staring up at me. So I push myself up, roll over, and rise to my feet, dusting off my uniform.
"Spinelli, you choked it big time!"
I roll my eyes.
"I still beat everyone else, didn't I?"
He nods.
"True."
I gesture to T.J., who is looking at me hopefully.
"And, I had a distraction."
Fitz nods, amused. He smirks. Uh oh. I won't like this comment. I can tell.
"Yes, Ms. Spinelli. I heard your little lover's spat," He remarks, trying to be cute.
I roll my eyes again. I don't like T.J.! How many times must I say that?
"We're not lovers! Ugh, I can't even stand him!" I snap.
I turn to T.J.
"This time, Detweiler, your plan won't work."
I turn back to Mr. Fitzgerald, who seems almost amused.
"So this is the kid who you were caught wrestling shirtless last year?" He questions, smirk widening.
I will never live that down. Ooh, yay! All the other girls are running over. Marvelous.
"Is that T.J. Detweiler?"
"What is he doing here?"
"I can't believe it's him!"
I roll my eyes, glancing over at the bimbos.
"Sheesh. He's just a guy. And a pretty annoying one at that!" I growl.
Oh, T.J. Teej has the nerve. Too much nerve. So much nerve he's an idiot.
"Well, don't worry girls. She's just a little jealous is all. Ladies, I'm sorry, but I'm taken. The lovely Miss Spinelli and I are dating now!" T.J. exclaims cheerfully.
I think I'm going to either vomit or kill the little creep. I can't decide which to do.
"I am NOT dating you! So what if I'm going to that stupid dance with you because we both know why I'm doing that, and it's not because I harbor some secret passion for you, okay? You're more likely to start dating Ashley Armbruister again than me. Now stop lying to those bimbos and leave so I can finish practicing!" I snarl.
Everyone stares at me, mouths wide. Ugh.
I think I'll pole-vault next. Now, where are those sticks? Aha! Okay, this time I can concentrate.
Run, run, run... Put the stick into the ground and flip up and over. And I made it! Landed on my feet too. Oh, great, they're still staring at me.
"What are you looking at?" I hiss.
- Loren ;
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