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in prog. about cutting from sum1 elses view |
It was 7:14 p.m. when I, Curt Berdnstein, decided to take a leisurely walk to Gatesden, a street in my neighborhood on a cool autumn morning. Ok, that’s a lie. I didn’t decide to take walk. I was shoved out of bed by my mother and had food crammed down my throat, then kicked out onto the sidewalk, backpack in hand. Oh, and another thing, it wasn’t a leisurly walk. It was a run for your life because the neighbor’s dog got loose and the bus was your only attempt to live walk. Anyways, I ran down Gatesden and caught the bus just in time. It was my first day at a new school, Watson High. We had moved that summer from Jersey to Chicago, Illinois. Same old thing. Apperently the school was named after a famous book character, but judging by the look of the kids on the bus, no one knew what a book was. I hopped on the bus and took a quick glance at the bus driver, who looked like she’d be much happier at home watching an episode of the Dukes of Hazzard, eating Jerky. She smirked at me, then closed the door. I looked around for a place to sit, but the seats were full. Except one. And the occupant in that one looked like she wanted to eat me. I approached her cautiously, as if her eyes shot venom. “Is this seat open?” I asked her. She was wearing a plaid skirt, fishnets, combat boots, 2 belts, and a form fitting white shirt with jagged long sleeves. Spiked cuffs covered her arms up to the elbow. This girl was a living image of the sex pistols. She looked up at me, her amber hair in braids reaching her shoulders. Surprisingly, she didn’t have gallons of liqued eyeliner. She had red eyeshadow and a very pale face. I thought she was gorgeous, and for a moment I was breathless. She scooted over and continued looking out the window. I sat down next to her awkwardly, trying to not look at her. “Do you like this school?” I asked, wanting to break the weird silence that hung over me. She looked over at me for a moment, as if she was surprised that I talked to her. She shook her head. “How come?” I pressed. She shrugged her shoulders. “Too many stereotyping preppy kids who think anyone who is slightly different deserves to rot in hell for it.” She replied with something that I thought may be the start of a smile. I nodded and looked straight ahead. “I’m Curt.” I stuck out my hand, feeling stupid. She smiled and shook it. “Aiden.” I smiled back then felt the bus lurch to a stop. All of the people stood up and started filing out the door. “I’ll see you around, Aiden.” I said. She raised an eyebrow then smiled. I stood there for a moment, still under her spell. Suddenly a hard poke from someone behind me sent me flying onto the ground of the narrow isle. A hand with black fingernail polish reached down. I took it and stood up, trying to get out of the way. “Tell you what, I’ll show you to your first class. You’re a junior, right?” asked Aiden. I brushed my shirt off and nodded. “Come with me.” I followed her off the bus and into the crowded hallway. People were swarming left and right, and I almost had to run to keep up with her quick pace. Everyone was casting odd looks her way, as if she was some infected bug. Finally we stopped walking near a row of lockers, and she reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “It’s a map of the school, your’re going to need it.” She said. I took it and glanced at it. “My first class is algebra II, with Mrs. Kilzer, so that would be…?” I asked, hoping she had the same class as me. She took the map and pointed to a square that said room 507. “Be careful, she can be a bitch when she wants to be.” I gave her a questioning look but she just smiled, then retreated down the hallway, once again leaving me breathless. SLAM! Damn. It happens every time. Someone rammed into me again. This was getting a bit old. I gathered my things, stood up, and wandered down the endless hallway of people. Eventually I found my class, and even though I was a bit late, I still made it. "Mr...?" asked the teacher, who I supposed was Mrs. Kilzer. She had jet black hair and half-moon glasses. "Curt, Curt Berdnstein," I replied, grabbing an empty seat near the back. "Make it a habit, Mr. Berdnstein, and you will nevertheless end up in detention." She turned back to the board and finished writing a problem. This was going to be a long day and I was just starting it. My next class, chemistry, I had with Aiden. I sat next to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around. "Hey, um...er..would you want to...hang out sometime?" I said, hating myself for screwing up. A smile formed in the corners of her mouth. "Sure, you can meet some of my friends. Meet me at the 7-11 on Cherry Street, ok?" My heart skipped a beat. "Uh, yeah, sure, I can't wait," I replied. Suddenly a ruler slapped the desk. "SIR!" A short, slightly balding fat man with glasses was staring at me. "Sorry," I mumbled, staring straight down at my books. He glared at me for a moment, then walked away. |