Oh…yeah…then she flicked her hair…oh…yeah…he began to stare…Waiter! Bring me water! I gotta make him keep his cool…waiter! Bring me water! He's acting like a fool…um hi! Never write and listen to Shania Twain at the same time. Never goes well. I'm actually loving writing this, even though it's total crap. I think it's because I've actually knocked out a senior because he had finally pushed one too many buttons. No, he didn't get a broken nose, but I do know how to do that. Ok, how about you read the story now?

September passed in a blur of new activities and settling in. The girl's dorms went horribly wrong. The contractor hired to do them flubbed the job horribly. Something was wrong with the insulation of the walls and the plumbing, guaranteeing that I would be sharing a room with Rob for a while. Many of the girls were ready to tear their hair out and a few of the parents were a little displeased. After all, half the reason they had sent their daughters to a nearly all boys school was because they would have separate facilities. I could have cared less. I had my sheet and my privacy with it. I had found that the boys of my dorm gave me my room and overall treated my more like one of the guys than a girl. Annette (who was still burning mad at me) said that that was because I was so ugly, not at all feminine. I told her to bite me.

Still, there were drawbacks to sharing a room with Rob, although I shan't discuss them here. At the beginning of October I was getting a little moody. No, it wasn't that time of the month, I was bored. Classes and homework occupied most of my time, sure, but I needed something entertaining. My idea of an art club was promptly quashed by the administration, so I had no extracurricular activity. Hell, the arts weren't much encouraged at this school. Seemed all the guys were lining up to be lawyers or doctors or businessmen. Not to many had a sense of art for the beauty of it or true self expression. We all looked alike in uniform (besides the skirts) and in what we were being taught. I decided to take a stand in English.

Donelly was a little late so I stood up boldly and began to read something I'd written the night before. Among my class were Rob, Anderson, Danny, and few of their friends that had frequented our room.

"I see the sun in the East

the moon to the West

the stars above me and

the ground below me

I feel the sun on my face

Water on my hands

Earth under my feet

The wind on my hair

I see the trees grow green

And the grass sway to the breeze

I see the happy young people

And those older

I see the graves

Where we all go

For we are all mortal

We all are

And so is the sun

And the moon

And the wind, water

Earth and sky

I feel-"

"Thank you Miss Dalton." Donelly said curtly. She was coming in for the first time to a quiet class and had the nerve to insult the person responsible for such a rare phenomenon. I slid back into my seat as she dropped her papers on her desk.

"Actually, Miss Dalton, maybe your little outburst is good for something. Can anyone tell me what was wrong with Miss Dalton's poem. Anyone? We're starting that unit today, so chop chop!"

The class remained silent. The students just shuffled in their seats, looking at each other, waiting for some one to answer. Donelly tapped her foot impatiently. "No one then?"

Silence.

"It lacked a rhyme scheme, foot and meter. Such poetry never flows the same way as poetry that attains correct foot and meter. Now, the basic forms of foot are iambic, anapestic, trochaic, dactylic- don't you groan at me!"

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We took notes, lots of notes. My next class, P.E., was a bit of an uplift. The track was occupied by another set of people (the cross country team) and my class of girls was spilt and put with other classes. I was happily playing soccer for one glorious hour before dinner. I took on the part of goalie and the boys laughed. I told them not to hold back and they laughed even harder. They brought it on though and I surprised everyone. Nothing got by me. I was a one woman force against the balls! Anderson was in this particular set and was trying the hardest to slip me up. I made a spectacular and painful save by jumping sideways and catching the ball. I was a little dazed when I sat up, but it was worth it to see the look on his face.

After dinner, I actually allowed Rob to hold his homework group in the room. I think it was because they were so hopeless with their English homework it was funny.

"I wan-dered lone-ly as a cloud." One of them called Geoff said out of proportion to determine the foot and meter. "What do you think? Iambic…what?"

"I dunno."

"This is pointless."

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming." I said.

"Yeah? Let's see you read this thing."

"That I shall, Master Geoff." I found my own textbook. In typical guy fashion, the cogs in their brains were already turning, making up nasty cracks and jokes.

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, by William Wordsworth." I started. I had done this poem in freshman honors English.

"I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills

When all at once I saw a crowd

A host, of golden daffodils

Beside the lake, beneath the trees

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continu-"

"It's a poem about flowers? Damn women teachers."

"Shut it Anderson. As I was saying:

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky-way

They stretched in a never ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand I saw at a glance

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out did the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay

In such jocund company

I gazed-and gazed-but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or pensive mood

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills

And dances with the daffodils." I finished. "Well, any comments or did you finally figure out the answer for foot and meter?"

There was silence for a few minutes, I thought maybe, just maybe, they'd been reached and they were about to prove they weren't all the hormonal idiots I thought them to be. I was wrong, so wrong

"What the hell is 'jocund'?"

"Who dances with flowers?"

"Why would anyone even write about flowers?"

"OK! Everyone out, NOW! I've had it, out, out, OUT!"

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It was later that evening, as I finished off my Trig homework, that I was surprised.

"What did it mean?"

"What did what mean?" I answered Rob's question with another.

"That poem, what did it mean?"

I rolled over (I was on my bed and on my stomach) and faced him. "Why?"

"I dunno why Charlie, I just want to know."

"I can't tell you , really, you have to interpret it for yourself."

"So?"

"So, what do you think it means?"

"I think it means, whoever wrote it, got sick of other people and sought solitude among plants."

I rolled my eyes, good lord. "Ok, whatever you think, I suppose, is good enough for you."

"Yeah, I'm gonna go use the bathroom-"

"One step ahead of you, changed when you were in Anderson's room."

"Charlie?"

"Mm?"

"Don't mention that to anyone."

"K."

I wrote another chapter! It was bad, it was bad, it was bad, and it was really bad. I know it was! But when I get going on a roll, I'm hard to stop. Yes, I have another chapter on the way soon. Yay! I should give my characters names and surnames, shouldn't I? But I haven't yet, but it's in the works and my head so be braced! La la la la la la…I'm going to go listen to more Shania. Byesies! - The Druidess -

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Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Why does the writer use these lines?

CHARLIE: Because he's in a hurry.