Silk and wool

Tuesday, January 1

Yesterday, we celebrated my birthday and by we, I mean, the whole family, and by the whole family, I mean, the THE WHOLE FAMILY (dad’s side anyway); Mom and Dad, Wade (my big brother), Homer (my cutie of a cousin who’s around my age and whom I don’t talk to due to awkwardness of him being although first, but a distant one), Aunt Darcy, Aunt Indira, Uncle Rufus, Uncle Maddox, Aunt Madeline, Grandma, Grandpa, my cousins: Seinna, Silvia, Alex, Idris, Lukas, and many, many, manymanymany MANY more. My dad’s side’s family is H-UGE! He’s got like, eight siblings which means a billion cousins for me, which is good ‘cause I love the context of a big family. The more the merrier~ Which was whyyy the birthday celebration- MY birthday celebration at Grandma’s was OSAMEEEEZZZ. And yes, celebrating your 15th birthday at your grandparents’ house isn’t exactly what normal teenagers or anyone, for that matter, would define ‘awesome’. No, of course not, awesome for them are birthdays like in that show in MTV: My Super Sweet Sixteen. Yeah, that. But a simple birthday was what I wanted; a small chocolate cake enough to feed around six people with a cherry and the free provided candles on top and celebrating the day I was born with the people I love, what’s not to like? For some people maybe, okay, most people, but not me, I LOVE my family. It’s not like I can’t afford a birthday party with the whole school on the invitation list because I totes CAN. My parents are loaded! Besides the get-together at Grandma’s was on account of new year celebration anyway, so you know how it is; might as well celebrate my birthday since everyone was there and all. But isn’t that cool or what? The fact that my birthday is on the last day of the last month, AND, the next day is a new year. BONUS! My birthday is an easy one to remember, which is why I never have to worry whether my friends remembered or not because they NEVER forget, except they couldn’t come and greet me yesterday, much less, give me presents (boo-hoo), considering the fact that I was at Grandma’s house which is like, 100 km away. They greeted me though, through text… and Facebook (again, boo-hoo.) I had a really great time on the slide bouncer Grandma rented, not to sound cheesy or anything, but, the sky was UH-mazang; the moon was gorgeous and there were stars, so. much. shiny. stars. My clothes were soaking wet (the bouncer was a wet one) when I reached my house, ONE of my two houses anyway, (the other one is in another town) which was just a 5-minute walk from Grandma’s. That was 11-ish. I didn’t bother staying for the countdown, I was pretty exhausted, I just wanted to take a shower and go to bed. By the time I was clean and in my pjs, it was 11: 55, so I decided to wait a little bit longer. When the clock strikes 12:00, colorful fireworks shot up and burst overhead. It was happening all around me, fireworks were from houses left and right, the boom and the view surrounded me. Nothing like that ever happened in Shoemark (the other town I’m living in). I was SO overwhelmed by- well, everything! the fact that the view was so incredible (I was standing on the roof), the fact that I was happy from the excitement of my birthday and not to mention: exhaustion, the fact that it was late and I get emotional at late at night (don’t ask), the fact that last year sucked A LOT and here was a chance to start fresh happening before my eyes, so I cried. I cried tears of joy. I couldn’t help it. It was a good thing that no one was there to see me getting all soft ‘cause THAT’D be embarrassing. Last year had been a rough year. I had more downs than ups. Like, 80% of it downs. But this year, I’m gonna make sure everything is gonna be just, perfect. This year is gonna be MY year. New Year resolutions: ace grades, proud parents, good daughter, great person, real love life and a better social life. Let’s hear it for new year. Cheers. Happy New Year! And then we had a party at Grandma’s in the morning with the whole town invited, I was exhausted blablablee, food was DELISIOS, funfunfun. So I was happy, right? What with the whole birthday and new year thing and then it hit me. SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW. I’m not ready for school, not just yet! Every year  Mom would get a tailor to make me a new uniform (I will never be caught in one of those store-bought uniform, ew) but this year, Mom’s busy with Wade, now that he’s going to ‘college’, that she totally neglected me! Also, we were way too busy travelling for three-ish weeks this month, I mean, last month, so we didn’t have time to go school supplies shopping. No new bag, no new cute pair of shoes, no new uniform so I’m gonna have to wear my OLD stuff like my freaking uniform which has blue pen ink and food stains on it AND its worn-out! It’s worn-freaking-out! I can’t wear that on the first day of school! Come on! I’d be looking like those poor people in public schools! Ergh. And don’t get me started on schoolbooks. Mom only bought like three over THIRTEEN books. Three, can you believe it? Just three. My mom said if I don’t wanna get in trouble by the teachers, she suggests I use Wade’s book for the time being. Really? Really? WADE’S books? The ones he drew cartoons of teachers’ faces in and names of his different ex-girlfriends which he has so many because he constantly changes them like he changes his underwear with cute little hearts surrounding them and then everyone’s impression of me as the popular girl changes when they realize I’m actually a lesbian judging from the many girl’s name in my about-to-be books? Oh fantastic! And that’s not even the end of this tragic nightmare! Mom’s making me go to a tuition school tomorrow and every. single. day.  after that. Not just ANY tuition school, Litchfield tuition centre, where all of the kids there are WHITE. I hate Mom and Dad! I mean, why can’t they just hire a private tutor for me? I pointed that out. And guess what their response was? “Honey, you have to learn to socialize more.” Yeah, right! ←This, makes ZERO sense whatsoever, I have enough friends to last a lifetime, and they KNOW it. They’re just saying that ‘cause they’re cheap, my parents are SUPERcheap, they just won’t admit it.  I don’t want to go to a tuition school, I mean, I don’t mind if it’s some OTHER tuition school which includes black people as well as white but this- oh god, huhahuhahuhahuha- im hyperventilating. I caaanttttttttttttttttttttttttttt. I don’t want toooooooo.  Help meeeeeeeeeeee. Okay, so you’re probably thinking I’m being a spoiled brat right now but you don’t understand! I WENT there before. Not went there as in pay a visit, shake hands with everyone there, see whether the color of the walls are in an apple green shade or bright green or a shade in the middle of apple and bright green, maybe a lime shade- NO. I went there as in I study there (like, how else would I know all the kids there are white peeps?) It was last year on March; I was taking Biology and Accounting. And there was this spectacled white dude with spiky blonde hair. He said his name was Dakota (I remember because I think it’s an awesome name.) He was really REALLY young, like, in his early 20’s (well, apparently, modern kids are smart.) He’s the guy in charge of the place, he was also my tutor for Biology, and he was all, friendly and cherry. It’s a good thing; I mean yeah, happy, yay. But for a girl who’s supershy like me… not exactly something to be over the moon about. He kept saying, “Hi” to me, but words refused to come out of my mouth. I’m just supershy like that. Like, you’re probably thinking: how can Britney be popular if she’s THAT shy? Where’s the sense in that? That’s only because I’m shy at first but when I get comfortable with someone, at that moment, believe me, I will not stop talking. Some people are like that, you know. Over the month, I would always find excuses to mom so I wouldn’t have to come. So I only came like three times (with Delighted Dakota on the loose, how can I?) Cray, I know. And in those three times, no one would talk me, they pretty much didn’t know I exist- WHOOP, my bad- on the second thought, they DID know I exist. After all, Dakota did specifically introduce me to the whole class so I guess they preferred ignoring me instead (which is worse, okay, sad) and with this chick, Jacqueline, staring at me one minute, laughing and whispering about me to her friends the next (Jacqueline is from McFie Academy. She’s pretty famous around here because of her big, ahem, assets. She dated almost every guy in town and every guy pretty much worship her and that leads to every girl worshipping her a) because they need relationship advice and who better to go to if not Jacqueline? b) so the girls could get hooked up with Jacqueline’s many exs or c) because she’s popular and every girl is an attention-seekeing kiss-ass. I’m popular, but I’m not THAT kind of popular. I’m popular because I know everybody and everybody knows me. If it’s not because I’m one of the prettiest girls in school, which was what I’ve been told, it’s because I’m among the smartest in school) I kept glancing down at my outfit: self-conscious, every time I hear them talking, whether it was about me or some other topic, I don’t know, I was checking, just in case, the third time around, I just could NOT bring myself there. And that was when I start making up excuses. I couldn’t go back there, it seemed like every time I step into the place, I just kinda wanna drop down on my knees and burst into tears- it’s like that first day of pre-school again when I clung onto Mom’s legs, never wanting her to leave me in that hellhole (at least school WAS a hellhole for a five-year-old like myself at the time.) I was so determine to prove to them that I didn’t need tuition and so I could get outta there as soon as possible so I aced all my grades (yes, I’m a straight-A student) during the first term in March and my grades remain consistent after that so I dropped out and they- Mom and Dad, I mean- never make me go back there again, until now. I begged and pleaded to them, I practically kissed their feet, explaining how this difference in races thing, but they wouldn’t listen! They kept on insisting it’s a ‘decent’ tuition, their friends said so. Dammit! If only, IF ONLY, I had done great in my finals, this wouldn’t have happened (I got two B’s. Hurrah! You’ve guessed right. For Biology and Accounting.) I regret everything! I’m sorry! God, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!  I don’t wanna go- I don’t go back thereeeeeeee! NOOOOOOOOoooooo!!! Everyone there is white, okay? White! I know 90% of the people in Eleanor Academy for girls are white and my friends are all white but at least there ARE black people in my school other than myself. (three in my batch; a goth and the other one is a loner, which is why I don’t hang out with them ‘cause they’re both outcasts.) But this- non! NON. NIL. NADA. ZERO. ZILCH. They’re gonna talk about me behind my back, I just know it! I don’t fit in! And I’ll NEVER fit in! I hate this! So the first thing I did was confide, not to Wade, he never listens to a thing I have to say, he’s on Mom and Dad’s side in everything  anyway so he’s hopeless, but, in fact, to my guy BFF, Jiggy. Jiggy or Zeke Newton (his real name) lives across the street from me and he’s a junior in high school (I’m a sophomore.) He doesn’t go to school with me though, well, obviously, my school is an all-girls school, he goes to St Albert School. He kinda JUST moved into the neighborhood, about, seven months ago. He came by one day, along with his blotchy face and specs and introduced himself. According to him, his parents and mine already met earlier before that, which was how he knew all about me. I showed him around town, and we became fast friends.  He isn’t exactly what anyone would call ‘hot’ or ‘dope’. Oh, he’s black alright, so am I. But we’re not those stereotypical black hooligans. I’m not loud, and he’s not a thug .We’re not into raps or talk black, ya know, all that, ‘Yo niggas! Ya’ll bitches ain’t got no money like uzz’ whatever. Not all black people are like that. He’s more of a geek than a gangster. Wayyyyy  more. He’s got a snub nose like mine which is his best feature; at least, it is to me ‘cause I think it’s cute (I hate mine, it looks terrible on me), he’s kinda short compared to the other guys which is ironic ‘cause he plays basketball (he’s a geeky basketball player, this isn’t high school musical, there IS such thing), his hair is in a buzz cut and he’s into those anime stuff that I have absolutely no interest in and that I think is pretty gay (sorry to say.) I’m friends with him, as a matter of fact, BEST friends with him, because even though he doesn’t reach to my standards, he’s an amazing friend, and real, nothing like my fake, two-faced, backstabbing girl friends. He’s different. For once in my life, I found someone I could actually trust… or so I thought. One day, when we were on one of our first meet-ups (we usually just hang out on his front porch), I told him to never keep feelings for me because based on experience, guys keep mistaking my niceness as flirting and then when they confess ‘cause they thought it’s safe to, I have no other choice but to break their heart and let them in on the facts that I have zero feelings for them whatsoever. I didn’t want that happening to Jig, I don’t want that happening to anyone (I hate the feeling of being someone else’s depression) so I warned him before any of that happens.  He laughed at it, agreeing with my every word, WILLINGLY as if saying; he would never in his life would even have the slightest feeling for me. Five months later, which is not long ago, he confessed to me that he’s starting to fall for me. It was happening all over again. I told him exactly what I told to every other mistaken loverboy that I just wanted to be friends and he wasn't exactly what I’m looking for in a guy ( a skater is  huge turn on for me. He claimed that he used to be a skater but I don’t know if I can buy that.)  DON’T YOU DARE JUDGE ME. True, I rejected  him. But I’m no heartless female dog. I didn’t pack my bags and walk straight out of the door of his life like how anyone would react to that statement, I stayed.  And I didn’t let it ruin our friendship, I ignored him-having-a-crush-on-me business; every time he starts getting all lovey-dovey with me, I’d stir him to some other non-gushy related topic. SO YEAH. Anyway, I texted him, instead of walking to his house (it was already late anyway); spilling my guts out and he knew exactly what to say. He always does. SUCH a good listener. Oh, thank god! Finally! Someone who understands! After that, I got ready for school, not that I have any enthusiasm doing them like I do every other year due to LESS NEW SCHOOL SUPPLIES, and have I mentioned this is Mom’s fault? Well, yeah, this is Mom’s fault! All that I have is new stationery, all of them in the color purple, of course (purple’s my favorite color.) So yeah, that’s about it. I am still fuming about the whole tuition crisis thing but well, what to do? Can’t do a thing to change it. And you know what they say, “Never sleep angry.” But no one ever said about sleeping upset, and I am most DEFINITELY upset. School and tuition tomorrow. BOTH. Crazy tired. I can’t do this. Whatever. I’m off to bed.

Note:

1)      I know about the four seasons in certain countries but I don’t really know how it works, with the whole summer holiday and everything. Here, school starts on either one of the days of the first week of January and an approx of 1-2 week/weeks of holiday between every two months, Fridays and Sundays and public holidays, of course.

2)      My apologies for not mentioning earlier: it’s a diary-based story

3)      In this story, public schools and private schools BOTH have a dress-code. Of course, different schools, different uniforms. Only difference is, for public-school students, school fees aren’t necessary, get custom-made uniforms in local stores, schoolbooks are provided by the school to be borrowed and  they eat school cafeteria food for free whereas private-school students pay monthly school fees, they prefer tailor-made uniforms, buy their food in the school canteen and they buy the schoolbooks.

4)     Britney Saunder’s subjects include: Art, English, Math, Physics, Biology, Chemistry, Accounting, Geography and IT.

5)    For those of you who don’t know, tuition schools are basically another school; only, it’s not a morning school, but in fact, an afternoon or night school. The subjects are not as set as in, not everyone get to have the same subjects depends on what they choose, because you get to choose which subject you want to take, usually the parents do this, where any student from any school at all can register. Generally, it’s a place parents of students send to because they think their children needs extra help to achieve good grades/grade in -/a certain subjects/subject that they are weak in, their children, I mean.

Complicated, I know. But as you go deeper into the story, you’d understand it better. Though I still suggest you write this down. But if you think you’d be able to understand the story without taking down the details then feel free to keep reading. :) This is my first story. I would really appreciate it if you guys tell me what you think. So comment, alright? Thanks. :)