Every day after school, I go home with my friends, Rose and Lillian. Rose is a Junior. She's old enough to drive. We met through a theatre program. We bonded over our hatred of certain teachers that go to our school. The first time I heard her say that she thought our Chemistry teacher, Mr. Barnes, was an idiot, I knew we would become good friends. She was also into Terry Hayes, so that was another thing we could talk about.
Lillian, on the other hand, was kind of just there. She didn't really have much to say. When she did say something, it was usually an illuminati conspiracy, or she makes a bad pun. It was pretty random. She kind of scared me. I heard that she knows how to perform certain Satanic rituals, and she performs them so that the people she hates will receive bad luck. This kind of comforts me; she must like me to a certain degree, because these pants are anything but bad luck.
On the way home, Lillian stayed in the back, listening to what we thought was Kanye West. Rose and I were up in the front seats. It was kind of quiet. She then began talking to me. "I'm really pissed off. I've been trying to play Mario Kart, but all of this stupid homework keeps getting in the way." She stopped talking. I didn't know how to respond. People's complaints about homework usually bore me. She started droning on for a few more minutes about her homework. I kept thinking to myself, "How do I change the subject without seeming rude? Why does she think I care?" I tried to look to my pants for inspiration. Nothing.
Suddenly, my phone rang. It was my friend, Avery. She was one of the hosts of the poetry slam. Rose saw that my phone was ringing, and she allowed me to answer it. "Hello?" I asked, in vain. "Hi, Isabelle! It's Avery. I'm just letting you know, the poetry slam is this weekend. I have a lot of family coming down to see this. Unfortunately, all of the people who signed up have the literary talent of a first grader. Some people have submitted some of their poems, and they all make me cringe every time I read them. Do you know how disappointed my parents would be if they found out I dropped out of college to open up a café that all morons hangout at? It would not be good." She paused. I then asked, "Um…yeah. What exactly does this have to do with me?" "Well, I've seen some of your work from previous years. I saw that you were able to develop your writing skills, and become very talented with your art. I need you to be able to write a poem so amazing that it will help the audience to forget about the other terrible poems. Do you think you can do that?" she asked.
I looked out at the open road. And then I looked down at my pants Definitely, I thought to myself. I've gained so much inspiration over the past couple of hours; why couldn't this streak extend into the next couple of days? I could totally do it! "Hello? Isabelle? Are you still there? Did you hang up on me? Ugh, I knew I should've gotten a new phone…" I heard Avery say. "Oh, no, I'm sorry. Yeah, I'll be able to write a kick ass poem," I said. And then I hung up.