I reach the cafeteria with 30 minutes to buy my lunch, sit down with Alec, and scheme. Today on the menu, spaghetti & veggie sauce, pizza, or bruschetta. For dessert, cookies or brownies. I choose bruschetta and brownies and then I pick up some chocolate milk.
I sit down at the table where Alec is sitting, our usual table by the window. It's nice there. Sometimes we see birds, squirrels, and a couple of times, raccoons and rabbits. It's and enjoyable way to spend your lonely lunch period if you are an outcast such as I.
'Hey,' Alec says. He's eating the spaghetti and a cookie, plus some chocolate soy milk. Alec has a deadly alergy to dairy products, and it is very difficult to find an ice soy milk cake, even in the heathly isle of the Superstore, which ranges about a kilometer long.
'Hey,' I say.
'So... what are you doing for your party next week?' Alec says, obviously reffering to my 'birthday party'. But I mean, c'mon. The phrase 'birthday party' is so lame...
'Well, I'm inviting all of grade 8. There is going to be music, mostly real music, but however we must mold to our peers, so I have selected a playlist of semi-acceptable popcorn.' Popcorn is a term Alec and I use to describe modern music. It's poppy, and quite corny. 'I mean, since we couldn't get The Strokes, or the Arctic Monkeys, or even Metric, we just have to hope Zoey doesn't hijack the playlist again this year. There will also be lots of delicious food, and dancing, and yes. Just a normal middle school party, I guess. Oh, and it's on friday, which is not even on a school night, so we can have it until very very late.'
'Oh. Well, my cousin Janet's coming on friday. She's in grade 8 too, would it be okay if she came too?' Alec asks.
'Sure, whatever,' I say. 'I mean, I don't even know the majority of the grade 8 students here. So one more person I don't know is fine. Plus, I have to share my party - pardon me, our party, with Zoey. Hence the 'our party' part. I'm sure one more girl won't hurt.'
'Okay, I'll tell her to bring party clothes. Mind you, she thinks every day of her life like it's a party, so it shouldn't be a problem. Anyway, do you know what you're getting from your parents?'
'Hmm. Either a SMARTboard, or a cream stratocaster. Or maybe both, knowing my parents.' I say, extremely casually, while on the inside, I am exploding with delight! I really, really, really want a SMARTboard to make following online recipes easier, but I can't explain my extreme desire for a cream stratocaster identical to the one Albert Hammond Jr. plays. Of course, I'm terrible at just about every instrument, but I really want to learn guitar so me and Alec can start a band.
And then, I look up, and the moment is completely spoiled in a fantastic incredible way.
Just the sight of her makes my brain tingle, my knees shake, and my heart beat out the killer beat of 'The View From The Afternoon'.
Then I notice the most popular guy in school, Louis (who's best friend also happens to shove my head in lockers whenever he sees me), walking towards her table. Grrr. Not that I can do anything about it...
and then she gets up.
She's walking towards our table. Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh. Don't. Hyperventilate.
Then comes the depressing moment when I realize she's just going to brush her orthodontosized teeth in the girl's bathroom, which inconveniently happens to be right beside our table.
* * *
My mouth still tastes like that garlicky bruschetta, even after brushing my teeth multiple times. Ick. So with my mouth full of the gross aftertaste (and smell) of garlic, I trudge along to my next class, art.
Just for your information, I am terrible at art. I can make a smiley face look like a rotting plum. Apparently being extremely paranoid about organization has nothing to do with your artistic skills, which is unfortunate, because my lowest mark, an 79, just so happens to be in art.
So I walk in the door, and automatically see Maddie (due to her flaming red hair). She waves and smiles, then turns to the left to continue her conversation with the girl beside her.
Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh. Wait a minute, I need to stop using that rediculous phrase.
Zita also takes Logan's place next to Maddie. Maddie and Logan used to be complete BFFL (best friends for life), or I guess BFUIMTS (best friends until I move to Seattle). I used to be at the desk to the right of Logan, so now I guess I am on the right of my true love...
I am so obsessed. I really need to just ask her out.
Mr. Rubin, the art teacher walks in to the room. He, is awesome. He has really dark skin, he's bald, with dark brown eyes, and I've never seen him in a suit before. He even lets us listen to our iPods while we work.
'Good afternoon, class,' he says in his Jamaican accent. 'Today, we are going to be continuing on our still life drawings. Just remember, this is your second last class to work on this. After that, it's up to you to work on it at home. This project is due next friday.' He then puts the picture of fruit up on our SMARTboard.
For the first half hour of class, I spend my time writing this list of when to ask... her out.
- Do it at lunch (tomorrow)
- At the Graduation dance
- Right Now. This very second.
- At my party
I blush ferociously, and grab my pencil.
I look over to see what Maddie has done so far. As usual, it looks like a photograph. Zita's is also beautiful, and that's not just my biased eyes.
I'm about to compliment her on her great drawing, when I realize there are only 5 minutes left in class. Since I only have one more class to work on this, I quickly scribble the banana down, making it look like something quite innapropriate which I shall not name.
I am such a loser.
* * * *
Yay! So, thanks for reading this next segment of my novel, I hope you enjoyed! :D
I also just wanted to let you know that Charlotte is doing insanely major renovations to our doll room, so we will post pictures once it is done! :)
(hey, and Taryn...)