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The Lesbian Story of Doom, as A calls it.

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The Lesbian Story of Doom, as A calls it. Empty The Lesbian Story of Doom, as A calls it.

Post  Admin Emily Mon Oct 20, 2008 9:42 pm

Prologue
Leslie


I absolutely could not stop staring. His deep blue eyes, shaggy brown hair, his red lips. Which looked just so kissable...God obviously spent more time on him than anybody else. Nick was just so...perfect. And I was the girl that wasn't even alive in anyone else's point of view. Oh well, no matter. It's all the same.
I slammed my locker shut, disappointed he didn't stare back. Groaning, I headed for Room 217, my least favorite class. History. Sure, we need to learn about it so we don't make mistakes for the future, but we need to learn from our mistakes too. But that isn't hte point. History is boring. Scowling, I entered the class, not caring if the teacher got a bad vibe, sliding my Dakine backpack onto the floor from my arms to the seat closest to the door which was thankfully unoccupied.
Unzipping my backpack, I scowled yet again, grabbing my text book. I raised my eyes in surprise when I looked up from The Boring Book of Useless Facts. Meredith was here. Why was she here? Didn't she have drama this period? "Meredith, hey!" I smiled, happy to have my friend in my least favorite class. "Sit here!" I suggested, patting the desk next to mine.
"Hey, Leslie!" She smiled back, sliding her Jansport off her shoulders. "What's up?"
I ignored her question, asking one of my own. "Why're you here?" After I asked that, it donned on me. She had gotten a schedule change, didn't she? "Oh, schedule change?"
She nodded. "Computers was so boring like you wouldn't believe." She pulled out a pencil and starting drawing in a symbol that was engraved in the desk. "So, I transferred here." Meredith flashed a smile. "I figured we could take computers together."
"Awesome," I laughed, bemused. She almost always had trouble with computers. Not that she couldn't figure it out-she could. Although, whenever she tried to do anything on any computer, it froze up or gave her an error or something. One more period, and we would be out of here for good. "So, how was you-" The shrill bell rang, signalling class had begun.
Meredith giggled. "I'm fine. You?"
"Good. I'm good."
"Good." She turned to face the whiteboard. I tured after, thinking how badly the school needed blackboards-it would be fun to run my fingernails across it, feeling the board chip my nails, the eerie noise giving us chills and earaches.
I focused on the board, nothing but September 17, 2008 written in blue ink on it. The teacher burst in, a few papers flying to the ground. She slammed a few books-teaching books, I guess-onto her desk. "Sorry I'm late, class. The copy machine got jammed."
I stifled a laugh when I remembered The Fairly Odd Parents episode-with Flippy-when the copy machine was jammed with grape jam. One of my favorite episodes.
I cringed as the teacher told us to turn to page two-ten in The Big Book of Useless Facts. It was almost that time of month again, and I was ready to go on a rampage, to give a kid a wedgie, then hang him on the flagpole in front of the school. I would enjoy it every step of the way.
I glared at the window, wishing I could break the panels into millions of tiny pieces. The wind had blown in a cold gust of wind into the room, interfering with the seventy-five degree weather. The crisp, sharp air plundered my skin like tiny little needles poking my skin, leaving goosebumps as a result. The hairs on my skin pointed outward. I liked spit onto my hand, then rubbed it onto my arm, trying to stop more hairs from rising.
Meredith just stared at me, a smile on her face, saying, "You're pretty insane, dearie."
Of course, I gave her a quick flash of a wide, open-mouthed, closed-eye smile saying back, "Yeah, I know." I did, too. Multiple people have told me that I have created whole new levels of dork.
The seventy-five degree sunlight came back, thankfull, getting filtered through the wired panels. Smiling, I wished I could place my hand on the panels, its heat warming my hand. Then, I decided my feet were colder than my hands, and needed it more.
I crossed my legs, unhappy to be here, placing my chin on my left hand's fist. The teacher was talking about a thesis statement for a research project or something. And now, the T.A. was passing out little worksheets and rubrics. I kept chewing my Juicy Fruit, although more furiously now that I had a research project on top of PMS.
I grimaced, actually trying to pay attention this time. Now, the teacher was talking something about Rome or Greece. Or both. It's quite possible.
I closed my eyes, trying to think of something else. Concentrating just wasn't in my schedule today, though. I imagine...a lake. A nice, beautiful lake, almost frozen over. Snow sprinkled trees, frost clenching onto the grass. Everything was supposed to be wintery, with the exception of Santa Claus. Everything winter wasn't here in Arizona.
Or at least, that's what I think weather isn't like in Arizona. Ah, hell, how would I know? I moved from Maine to here in the June of last year. I lived next door to Meredith-well, I still do-and we have been best friends since.
Everything is so different here. Up there, it was cold and rainy almost all the time, and down here...well, it was hot as hell.
I bit my nail, a bad, dirty habit. My brain just couldn't function today. Grimacing, I wrinkled my nose, at what time we still had, which was thirty more minutes. In thirty minuets, you could do so much: shower, garden, create a website..but this? This hardly counted as anything worthwhile to do in thirty minutes. At least my history teacher last year in Maine made this kind of stuff interesting.
Scanning the page the teacher had told us to turn to, I realized we were discussing governments of Rome. I glanced around, seeing only one hand raised and the teacher doing most of the talking. Not really much of a discussion. More like a lecture. In spite, I thought of how she should read those thick teacher book sshe had slammed on her desk and learn how to be interesting. For God's sake.
As I listened-or, tried to, anyway-I realized how monotonous her voice was, so dull and unenthusiastic of what she was doing. I seriously had no idea that a person could be that monotonous for that long. Insanity.
I gave a sympathizing look to Meredith as she glanced my way. She slid her worksheet an inch or two over, revealing two words: 'I'm bored.' I gave her a weak smile, and crossed my fingers of my left hand, our sign of hugging one another.
Dorky, yeah, sure. But you've got to remember. I've created whole new levels of dork.



I am bold, Amber is italics. =D
Admin Emily
Admin Emily
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