Talk Disney to Me

Pinocchio

    I’m just ordinary, mundane Carly Ann Summers.

    I managed to somehow stuff the flowers in my locker and make my way to English on time, despite my state of shock. Before I knew it I was sitting in my regular seat in Mr. James class and trying my hardest not to fall asleep. We ran out of coffee this morning so I was forced to suffer through some orange juice that helped nothing to wake me up. Noah had stayed late after we got back to Brooklyn, watching old Disney movies and blasting Disney tunes from his iPod. I finally shoved him out the door at quarter to twelve when I told him Becky was going to be home in fifteen minutes and she’d skin him alive if she saw him in our apartment.

    I looked to my side to see Noah with his head on his desk, his blue eyes shut and his blonde curls framing his face like a halo. I poked his side with my pencil. “Noah, wake up,”

    Noah mumbled something incoherent and shifted away from me. I rolled my eyes and turned to the front. Mr. James hadn’t showed up yet and he was already ten minutes late. Not that I’m surprised, Mr. James starts class when he wants to start class.

    I needed to talk to Noah about Aiden asking me to be his girlfriend, mostly because I wanted his advice. I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing. Like, is this too early? Should I say no? Should I say yes? Do I even like him?

    Brittany Shaw sauntered her way into the room five minutes before Mr. James did. She walked over towards Noah and me with a bright smile, showing off her pearly white teeth.

     “Hi, Carly Ann,” she perked and rested her hands on my desk so she could gaze down at me. “Aiden’s been looking for you all morning,” she gave me a knowing wink.

     Noah’s head snapped up. He narrowed his blue eyes at us and his lips slipped into a thin line. My brows furrowed at his expression. It was one of those rare times that I’ve seen Noah with an unpleasant expression.

     I turned back to Brittany. “Oh yeah? Did he say what he wants?”

     I swallowed softly on the inside. Hopefully, he hadn’t gone blabbing to everyone that he was going ask me out then I’m the idiot that said I need to ‘think about it.’

     Brittany’s smile widened. “No, but he seemed really desperate to find you. Your date must’ve gone splendidly.”

    Splendid? Did she just say splendid? Who the heck says splendid anymore?

    I shifted uncomfortable. “Umm…”                          

    Thankfully, Mr. James bustled his way into the classroom in a flurry of papers and a crazy long scarf. Brittany stared at Mr. James with distaste before strutting to her seat.

    “Oh Captain, my Captain.” Mr. James slammed his books down on the desk and swung his over extravagant scarf to the side. He narrowed his intelligent eyes on us and expected us like some strange specimen. He perched himself on his cluttered desk and rested his elbows on his pants.

    “A poem by Walt Wittmen and also commonly know from the outstandingly genius and by far the best movie of this generation—”

    “The Dead Poets Society.” It took me a moment to realize that it was me who blurted out the words with an unconcealed amount of passion that could only be described as nerdy. I flushed a red and let my long curls cover my face in a curtain.

     Even my hair couldn’t hide the face splitting smile Mr. James sent my way. “Yes, Carly, the Dead Poets Society.” He turned to the rest of the class and leaned back, his eyes gaining that crazy passionate look to them again. “A movie that touches the harsh and unfair realities of this world but also dips into the passion which makes many of us gather the courage to crawl out of bed every day. It expands and delves into poetry so rich it pours words of wisdom but also touches on sadness and depression. It’s a movie that’s beautiful and realistic and does not have a happy ending but does have a ending which makes you want to irrevocable believe in people and poetry and all the beautifully simplest things in life.”