“Oh the glory of being female, sixteen, and an adolescent pimple machine! Oh yes and the joy of noticing guys turn their eyes towards my boobs and converse about them. Do I need to mention the small idea of secrecy! Please for God sakes don’t talk about my chest when the friend you are speaking with is in the opposite side of the classroom!” My rant could last forever. “Freshmen!” I thrust my hands in the air in an attempt to add emphasis to my complaint.

          I wasn’t talking to anyone in specific, or to anyone at all for that matter. I was speaking to my locker; I was speaking into my locker. At least it pretends to listen and care. On the other hand my beloved best friend Gina was staring at me letting me know that my show of idiocy had attracted the attention of passerby’s in the hallway.  In a desperate effort to redeem myself I cleared my throat.

“Am I the only person here who can’t converse with my locker alone? A little solitude would be deeply appreciated.”  I said that so blandly that people blinked in response. I swore to myself that I could hear the sound of their eyelashes flicking and sticking together.   

“Only first hour huh?” Gina asked, watching me empathetically. “Yeah.” I sighed, a sigh of relief releasing the stress I had accumulated in the last hour of school. Hummana, hummana, hummana. Gina and I left our lockers and headed for English IV; the only juniors who had decided to take the required four years in three. Well we were more or less forced into it by our tenth grade English teachers.

          When we got to class I sat in my seat and let my mind drift away somewhere new. Somewhere where my chest didn’t attract attention and where my face lacked a production of pimples. Where I was alone. Somewhere I could think.  I couldn’t clear my mind enough to end up in a meadow with grass and flowers, instead I landed in a pool of mud surrounded by flies and snorting pigs. Thank God for the imagination. I can just imagine a hot shower.

          “Lauren, Lauren, Lauren!” Gina was poking me with her index finger pulling me away from my absolutely nothing world I had created in my head.

“What?” I said a little louder than I had intended, “You’re perturbing me!” Where’d I get that?

          “Excuse me Miss. Jacobs, we’d like to start the class now.” The whole class turned their heads in unison towards me. Their eyes were burning through my skin and I could feel the eyes on the back of my head.  I had to do something otherwise I thought for sure that I would burst into a ball of flames if I didn’t.

          “I’m sorry Mrs. Jenkins.” At that the seniors turned and Mrs. Jenkins went back to her speech on forbidden love, Romeo and young Juliet.  I had seen the play three times; read it at least a gazillion times and now we had to act it out in class. Oh raspberries. I was praying that I wouldn’t have to contribute any part of myself to the class, but I have absolutely no luck. Which by the way is more painful that having the worst luck. Nothings there to give you a boost. Luck.

          I finished my rant silently noticing that we had only thirty minutes left in class. Maybe God would choose to bless me today with a “No Romeo and Juliet” strike outside of the classroom. Now don’t get me wrong I love Shakespeare, but how many times can a child endure re-reading it every six weeks. I was beginning to think that telling my guidance counselor that I wanted to major in English was a bad idea.

          “Lauren would you please join our world and act out this scene?” Mrs. Jenkins was speaking and had once again singled me out for having an active, slightly overactive, imagination. Oh great, the beloved “Romeo, Romeo, Why the hell are you Romeo?” scene. Okay so in a nutshell that’s how it’s translated, in my mind at least. I am not in the mood for this, but if it will help the world love Shakespeare, and give me the chance to make my crush laugh then why not? A bit immature, but I am in high school, and I should be allowed the rare occasion to act like a teenager.

          “Okay.” I said. I walked up to the front and sat in the “acting” chair. I cleared my throat and began. “Romeo, Romeo, Why the hell are you Romeo? Give up your dad’s last name, I won’t be a Capulate, love me forever and ever. Oh Romeo.” I finished my line and walked back to my desk. I sat down and waited. My crush Adam was sitting in front of me, laughing like a hyena and Gina was nearly falling out of her desk. The funniest thing about it was I managed to say it all with a straight face and I didn’t dare crack a smile.

          “Miss. Jacobs, come to my desk right now.” Yes Mrs. Jenkins. I got out of my desk and walked confidently up to her. She pulled out a yellow form, a referral, wrote a note on it and sent me to the deans’ office. It wasn’t the first one that I had received maybe the fifth, and if you ask me I think the deans were starting to wonder why I got them from the same teacher. My excuse, she didn’t encourage my acting abilities to the rest of the classroom.

          I sat in the deans’ office and waited for him to come out of his “private meeting” room. Like I didn’t know what really went on during the parent-dean conferences. I laughed at the thought of him “getting it on” with someone’s parent.

          “Miss. Jacobs in my “conference room” immediately!” Well you could calm down first Dean Henry. Dean Henry didn’t like when I called him that, considering Henry was his middle name. I only knew it because I heard him on the phone once with his mom, during one of my previous visits.  So I took a special effort to say “Please don’t ignore my phone calls Henry” every time I was within hearing range of him. I walked into his conference room and sat down in the “think about what you’ve done” chair.

          “What did you do this time?” Dean Henry said. I did nothing and stop interrogating me. You’ll never get anything from me. I hate school. This was the list of my possible answers. I opened my mouth to speak.

“Don’t give me any of your “Mrs. Jenkins doesn’t encourage my acting abilities to the rest of the classroom” crap. Why are you acting out in English class anyway?” he asked.

“Shakespeare.” I said.

          I was thinking in the “thinking” chair, it had fulfilled its duties, maybe.

“Why are you here?” he asked glaring at me. I thought about it for about a full second.

“Romeo, Romeo, why the hell are you Romeo? Give up your dad’s last name, I won’t be a Capulate and love me forever and ever. Oh Romeo.” I giggled a little then stayed quiet.

          I could see from the corner of Dean Henry’s mouth a smile forming. “You can not disrupt Mrs. Jenkins class anymore!” He got up and shoved me out his door slamming it behind me. I got a pass from the school secretary and went back to class.            

          When I got back I sat down in my desk and there were two notes waiting for me on my desk, one from Gina and one from Adam. I stuck Gina’s note in my pocket and read Adams.

          Lauren, that was seriously funny. Thanks for the laugh. Adam.

I pulled out a pen and wrote,

          No problem, it was worth it. Welcome for the laugh. Lauren.

I passed the note to him and put my head on the desk waiting for the bell to ring. One more class to go and then I’m free. Free at last.  I let Mrs. Jenkins’ voice leave my ears and headed somewhere where I wasn’t surrounded by mud, flies, and pigs. I went to a hill on a star filled night. Cliché right?

          On my hill I laid on my back, hands behind my head staring up into the sky. I stared out waiting for the best part of my little concocted world, Adam. The bell rang. Oh crap. Can’t I ever get a break?

          Gina and I walked to our lockers and put our books in. She was watching me waiting for the encore to my previous performance.

“Thank you Thank you very much.  I love you too. I’d like to thank my mom and my best friend Gina, and all the little people who made this possible.” I shook an invisible Oscar Award in my hands and wiped away a non existent tear.

          “That was hysterical and you made Adam laugh.” Gina was beaming with pride for I, her beloved friend.

“That I did. That I did.” We hugged each other and went off to our last class of the day,

Creative Writing. Yeah. The only thing I really enjoyed about school was lunchtime, my two two-hour long classes with Adam, and Creative Writing. Yes I know that school is for an education but hey I am a teenage girl.

          When I got to Creative Writing I sat in my seat waiting for class to begin. I actually liked this class and it was what I lived for, just to sit and write creatively, thus the reason it is called Creative Writing. Adam walked in and sat down in his seat which this time is to the right of me, the annoying kid who breaths too heavy sits to the left. I never venture into looking in that direction.

          Our writing assignments were due today and we were going to be sharing them with the class then we would pick new topics. I had written mine about a girl who likes a guy and never tells him and he secretly is in love with her, but never reveals his feeling either. Then years down the line when one of them dies they read an excerpt from her Journal revealing that she had been in love with him. Sappy I know and there are plenty of stories along the same line, but mine has a twist.

          The bell had rung two minutes later to let students know that they were now officially tardy. I could hear Dean Henry in the hallway yelling at kids to get to class and telling the couples to cease from swapping spit. Adam turned around and asked if I had completed my story.  I told him that I had and asked if he knew what our next assignment was on. He said he didn’t but heard it was different and involved pairing off.

          I sat wondering what we were going to write about.

 “Okay class, pass forward you’re due writing assignments. And Lauren I hope you give me excellent work.” Mr. Dawson was always telling the class how they should see beyond the limits and transform their writings, like me. It always embarrassed me when he used me as an example, but Adam always enjoyed my stories so I didn’t mind as much anymore.

          I passed my assignment up to the front of the room along with the others. Adam turned around and watched me.

“Hey. I hope your story is as good as the last.” He winked at me and I thought for sure I would fall out of my seat. Yeah a bit immature of a response, but what junior wouldn’t give their right arm to date a senior, yet alone Adam Wilsher. I smiled back at him and he turned around. I felt heat rush through my cheeks and make them live with color.

          Mr. Dawson asked for volunteers to share their story. A few kids raised their hands and went up and read their stories. After about forty-five minutes had passed there were only four people left who hadn’t read their stories. Adam, Courtney (Ooh look at me I can twirl my hair around my finger. He he), Justin and me. Mr. Dawson usually saved my story for last. I waited for Courtney and Justin to read theirs. Then it was Adam’s turn. He turned around and smiled and then walked up to the front.

          Adam read his story and occasionally looked up sometimes at no one other time s at what I thought was me. When he completed his story Mr. Dawson complimented Adam on his vocabulary and told him next time not go onto such detail about sex in his stories.

“This is high school Mr.Wilsher we do not talk about things of that nature.” Mr. Dawson was eyeing Adam. When Adam sat down I told him that I liked his story.

          When it was my turn I went to the front and turned off the lights. Mr. Dawson didn’t say anything because he new I often had to ‘set the scene’. I began reading and occasionally I would stop reading for all of five seconds, and then continued. When I finished my story everyone clapped, including Adam. I was more focused on Adam’s smile than the rest of the class’s applause.

          I went and sat down in my desk. The bell rang a few minutes after. I picked up my stuff and headed to my locker. School was over and it had been a fairly good day. All I had to do now was make it home without looking like and idiot. How is that possible though?

          I waited in front of my locker for Gina to come so we could walk home together. I was standing there with my head against my locker when I heard Adam’s voice.

“Hey.” He said. His voice was smooth and omniscient. He was actually talking to me. I mean he had before, but never in more than a simple note asking if I had the Homework for English.

“Hi.” I finally managed. I had a feeling I looked like a dork so as quickly as possible I looked at the ground so I wouldn’t be looking him in the eyes.

“Um, listen, I was hoping you could help me with our next writing assignment we’re supposed to pick a partner and have two main characters; male and female. I was wondering if you would be the female character?” I was actually shocked because I figured this was as close to a date I’m ever going to get with him.

“We could get a bite to eat afterwards. If that’s okay with you?” He had squatted on the floor to look up at me since I was still staring at the ground. I looked up and said that I would like that.

          We exchanged numbers and he left. I was in Nirvana. Gina walked up behind me and whispered in my ear.

“Take a cold shower Lauren.” She giggled and then asked what had happened.

“He wants me to be his writing partner for Mr. Dawson’s next big assignment. So I said yes and we exchanged numbers.” I was so far past being happy that I was positive nothing could bring me down from my cloud. Nothing.

“Well aren’t we misses hot stuff today?” Gina licked her finger then put it on my shirt making a sizzling noise. Yeah hot stuff let me tell you. If you consider a giant zit hot then I guess so.

          I grabbed my books from my locker and we (Gina and me) walked towards her house. We didn’t talk about much on the way there, but who needed words to describe how I was feeling? Not me. I was literally high from my encounter with Adam. I was walking on air, no wait on water. And no matter what happened I wasn’t going to sink.

When we got to Gina’s driveway we hugged and I walked home.

          I was already planning out in my head what Adam and I were going to do, talk, homework, then maybe a drink and a movie in my room. I was walking up the steps that led to my door, when I saw that the front door was open. When I walked inside my mom was sitting on the couch trying to calm someone down. Oh crap, Mrs. Jenkins. I felt my stomach sink, not only that but I as sinking in the water. I felt like peter, I stepped out onto the water and tried to walk to Jesus, but then I was sinking. Where’s you faith? I don’t know you tell me.

          I walked around towards the living room hoping that I could make it upstairs without them noticing I was home. But the moment that I walked an inch towards the stairs the floorboard creaked and I, knowing not even God could get me out of this, shuddered.

“Lauren? Is that you? Get in here we need to talk.” My mom wasn’t yelling she was just “raising her voice”. I walked into the living room trying to hide myself behind the stand with the lamp on it.

          “Hi Mrs. Jenkins.” I said pretending I didn’t know what she was doing in my living room.

“Hello Lauren.” She snarled. The way she looked when she was being mean was like that of a rabid dog barking at an intruder. Truth be told I wasn’t scared of her. I was frightened. My mom shot me an ice-cold look as though I had just admitted I had murdered someone. Which I hadn’t, so a great deal of unnecessary ice-cold glares were an injustice.

          I figured I had a lot of explaining to do, but I waited for one of them to say something first. I waited for a while. The phone rang and ran after it screaming I got it. My mom yelled at me to sit down. Of course knowing what was coming I answered the phone anyways. It was Gina.

“Lauren get in here now!” my mom was pretty mad to say the least.

“What’s all the yelling for?” Gina asked. In a moment of pure horror I whispered to her.

“If I’m not in school tomorrow call HRS. No wait by then it will be to late, call the police maybe FBI….” My mom had grabbed the phone from me and told Gina I would see her at school tomorrow. I thought to myself, no you won’t.

          Figuring I had lost the battle and most of the war I reluctantly walked into the living room. I knew what was waiting in there for me, wrath, the wrath of my mom and Mrs. Jenkins. One thing I did not need to spoil my day was being yelled at by the authorities. (Mom and Mrs. Jenkins) I sat on the couch and prayed, more or less begged, that I would come out of this alive. If in fact there was a God I would definitely be okay, injured or wounded, but alive. At the moment that’s all I wanted was to come out of this alive and have my “date” with Adam.

          I was waiting for my mom to say something or at least to give me a look that said for me to say something, neither came. Instead Mrs. Jenkins opened her mouth to speak.

“Lauren. I came here to tell your mom about your outrageous behavior in class and your constant lack of obeying authority.” She said. How I loathed this woman I wanted her to leave. I closed my eyes and thought if I wished hard enough she would disappear. I thought: be gone you old witch. When I opened my eyes she was still there. Bummer.

“I know that you are a smart child and I know that you are more than capable of being a mature young lady.” She said. That I am, a smart one. I wanted to yell at her for invading my life, but I didn’t say that however, I did yell.

          “You don’t know anything about me and maybe if your head wasn’t always up your saggy butt I wouldn’t feel the need to make class a little more interesting. Your class is just boring. I mean really do you find it necessary to re-read Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet once every six weeks. Do you?” By now I was standing up and my face was red with anger. I was mad that she came to my house. She didn’t belong here it was mine. Before I could stop myself I yelled at the top of my lungs.

“Leave now you old hag and find something better to do than come to my house and harass me. And while you’re at it get a life!” I’ll admit it was a very harsh thing to say, but I was angry with her.

          Amidst all the yelling I had done I could hear the abusive sound of someone plucking at guitar strings. Then it registered guitar, My Guitar.

          I looked from my mom to Mrs. Jenkins then back to my mom.

“I don’t have time for this. I have to go rescue my guitar from the prickly sticky fingers of an eleven year old.” I said. I turned and ran up the stairs stopping in front of my brother’s room door. I thought about knocking, but it was just that, a thought.

          I opened the door and screamed a scream that resembled a dying antelope. Not that I know what a dying antelope sounds like, but if I had to pick that what my screaming probably sounded like. “What are you doing!” I yelled. It wasn’t a question either. My brother was so scared that he jumped from his bed sending my guitar into the air only to come crashing down by the force of gravity. I picked it up and did a quick inspection.

          “I’m…I’m… sorry I just wanted to learn.” Jake, my brother was on the verge of tears, and so was I. I headed towards my room and I heard Mrs. Jenkins car start, then there was a knock at the door. I left my guitar sitting by my room door, and then ran down stairs, my eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Hey.” Adam said. After looking me up and down he started talking again.

“Umm, I can see that this is a really bad time, so I’m gonna’ go.” He turned and started walking back down the road and I didn’t stop him. I let the tears fall down my face as I watched Adam walk down the road. I could only hope that I hadn’t blown it.

          I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch resting my head on my moms shoulder.  “Now,” she said. “Would you like to tell me what went on today?”

“It’s nothing mom, just another day in the life of me, and unfortunately there’s another one tomorrow.” I kissed my mom on the forehead leaving her in the glow of the television. I walked upstairs making a pit stop at Jake’s room.

          I opened the door a peered in. “Hey.” I said. He looked up at me then quickly looked down at the floor. “How about Guitar lesson numero uno on Saturday?” I asked. He looked up at me in bewilderment and raised his eyebrows. “Really I said.” Then closed the door behind me.

          Walking to my room I realized the day had not been that bad and if it had there was another one tomorrow. I walked into my room, crawled into my bed and fell asleep.