Back To School Eve

On the eve of my First Day Back From Vacation, I am, again, up later than I wished (though it’s still today and not tomorrow, which means that it’s still not that late).  And I am also enjoying some vanilla Tootsie Rolls (yum am i right?). So yeah, you know, it’s just a normal night (up late and you know, eating something). I really am hungry though, I really am. Thinking back, I realize that besides that raspa (snow-cone) I had (loaded with gummy bears and pineapple chunks), I didn’t eat anything today. This is just a preview of what is to come. I get so busy that I forget to eat and while this might make me lose a little weight (sometimes, not always, but I guess isn’t that my goal or something? (no I don’t think so, I think my goals may have changed)), it’s actually terrible because when I do eat, I end up eating crap (though I eat crap all the time (what is a girl to do when pizza is her favorite food?????)).  The good thing is that since I’ll actually be on campus, I’ll actually think about heading to the rec center to go for a nice little run tomorrow (I’ll let you know how that goes because you know how out of shape am i!!).

I wish I had some lesson I learned today to share with you but I don’t, so I guess I’ll write a third snippet to my little story (sorry if this is the worst part about my blog for you but right now i find it easier to think like Lacey rather than Laura).

The thing about Jason Whitting was that he really was that whole package of brains and beauty and football talent. And you really wish he wasn’t cause then it makes that whole stereotype real so then you can’t scoff when you read about the ‘most popular guy in school’ in the book you’re reading, because he is real, and his name is Jason Whitting. And because Jason Whitting was you know, beautiful and smart and talented and too nice to be normal, it was like you were forced to like him.

So basically, I couldn’t walk around hating the guy even if he did break my arm. It was just like that with Jason Whitting.

So when I bumped into him and scowled, trying my best to make a mean girl face that would best take away from the fact that my hair was a rat’s nest and my arms were broken, I had to stop because I looked up and what do you know but Jason Whitting on crutches stood before me. And then he spoke and then even though you don’t want to like him, well when he speaks directly to you it’s almost magical. And let me tell you, you can try to fight off the magic like me, but it won’t work. It does not work (I speak from experience). Jason Whitting said some words to me and you know, I lit up like a light bulb in a tomato. And in case that is Greek to you, my entire body sans my casts area glared bright red for the world to see. I was blushing! Everywhere! And it was hot! It was so hot and I couldn’t breathe and–

“You broke my arm,” I mustered with as much confidence as I could. I tried my best to sound snooty, but he threw his head back and laughed.

“And you broke my ankle!” He answered. He flashed me a megawatt smile as his doofus-looking friends sneered at me from behind him. Apparently the ankle breaking thing was a sensitive subject. I broke their star player. Oh dear, how could I?

The bell rang, signaling the end of the five minute break and the kids around us darted from where they lingered. I never understood why any of them gathered to speak for five minutes, but every passing period there were hoards of people clustered by the lockers, making it near impossible to get to class on time. It usually took me the entire five minutes. I couldn’t imagine taking the time to talk to my one friend. What could possibly happen during one fifty minute class anyhow?

Jason remained standing there, supported by his crutches and staring down at me with an amused look on his face. I held his gaze steadily and then broke off after I couldn’t stand the fact that I was still standing in the middle of the hallway despite the fact that the bell had already rang. I furrowed my brow again, going back to my scowl and moved aside to walk past Jason and continue to class, but before I did, I stopped beside him.

“You trampled me, you idiot,” I said stonily and took off in the quickest walk I could manage that still looked like an angry stop.

“Ouch,” he called after me. “Still trying to harm me. We have to be friends now, you know.” When I continued to stomp away he called after me again, this time, the sound of his crutches slapping the tile in synch with his words. “Hey! Wait, come on!”

I stopped short and spun around to face him. What could he possibly want?

“Which arm did I break?”

I bid thee farewell, you know I have class in the morning.


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