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Rated 13+ only because of what it's about. Hopefully, this will turn into a full book. |
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I love English class so much, I already know all the material so I don't pay attention. I love English so much, I'm too smart for Mrs. Rowbard's homework. I love English so much, I give Mrs. Rowbard the honor of my presence only once every few days. And I still manage to pass. Throughout my childhood, I have always been at the bottom of the ladder. I never got perfect attendance. I was never student of the week. My name was never on the Principal's List. When I finally started high school, school turned from bad to worse. I don't play an instrument because I have asthma. I don't play any sports because I am not athletic enough. I'm not even geeky enough to be in the Chess Club. All of my freshman year, I just kind of existed. I wasn't the loser of the class, but I wasn't Ms. Popular either. I fell somewhere in the middle, closer to loser than popular, but still in the middle. I sat in the middle of the class, was in the middle of the lunch line, and ended up in the middle of the GPA list. My life is just sort of centered. Centered on one thing: Jacob Bratton. Now, I don't know if you've ever been a teenage girl, but it's a very confusing time in an adolescent's life. You have to worry about what your hair looks like, what clothes and shoes you wear, if your breath stinks, who did what at exactly 10:09pm last night and who with, and which boy is good to date, which boy is just in the relationship to get some, which boy is a bad kisser, and which boy should be taken off the face of the earth and be sent back to the planet he came from. Jacob is none of these. I've never kissed him, so I can't judge him on that. I know that he's only been in one relationship, and when they finally broke it offf after almost a year, they still hadn't had sex. I'm sure of this because his former girlfriend is my best friend, Jennifer Ann Malitone, or Jam. We call her Jam not only because of her initials, which we didn't realize fit the anagram till later, but because of a certain sticky situation we had in 5th grade which I will not reveal. I also know that Jacob is not from another planet, because he is godlike and I know that God lives in paradise, not on Pluto. His gorgeous brown hair, slightly uneven and falling into his eyes, makes me drool. I long for his muscular tan arms to wrap around me. I dream of him finally realizing I am the girl of his dreams and that we are meant to be together. In this amazing dream, I have this vision of us sitting on a rooftop in the middle of a giant field during a bout of rain. We are drenched from head to toe, but we are holding each other so the world is right again. He leans towards me. I think he wants to tell me a secret so I lean in to hear. INsead of his lips moving toward my ear, they move toward my lips. Just as I can feel his hot breath and delve into his mysterious green eyes... BAM. All of a sudden I'm watching from through a locked window and Jacob, my Jacob, my love, is kissing guess who. Jennifer. Ann. Malitone. I scream and scream, but the window must be soundproof as well, because they pay no attention. Quickly, I feel the floor drop from beneath my feet. Just as I am about to let gravity throw me into the cold hard concrete, I wake up. I'm sweating profusely and... is that drool on my pillow? Ew. |
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