The After Party

Case of the Monday's

I feel slightly ashamed that people will notice that I am asking him since he is way out of my league and we don't typically say more to each other than the typical 'how are classes going' type of conversation. I am proud of myself for asking. I have moments like these where I totally let something slip out without thinking about it first or actually even wanting to.

He looks up and gives a friendly wave as if to acknowledge me. I have no idea what to make of that. It seems like the sort of thing I would do. I am not one of them though. I am not popular and beautiful beyond reason. Uh, sure you can join us if you want.

Someone got to him before I did. He said I could come though. Why am I still sitting here like an idiot who just stares like a creeper? Ok. I say to him nervously. On the inside I am ecstatic at any chance I have to work with him though.

Actually we can only work in pairs. Says Talma. That means two people is the limit. She says in a lower yet audible tone to Chaz: OMG why do you let her even talk to you? Talma is yet another stuck up popular girl. She is bigger than the other girls she hangs out with, but she really knows how to dress. If she didn't have money for fancy clothes they would definitely be too shallow to keep her around. She wasn't always with the 'in' crowd. That only changed when her dad bought her a convertible after her parent's divorce. We were actually pretty cool with one another before that. If I ever became popular I would never act like that to someone.

Right. My bad. Sorry guys. I turn around in my seat and slump over my paper. It doesn't even take me half the time we were given to finish it. If this were something we were really going to be graded on then I would have a few people ask me to partner with them. I am either invisible or a verbal punching bag if that's not the case. Now I am even more pissed at myself for not saying something smart back to her. She shouldn't have been so rude about it. She shouldn't have been so crass with the way she spoke to me just now. I shouldn't have acted like some peasant servant girl when she did either. Ugh, now I am just frustrated and I feel like crying. Not because I am sad or hurt. I am use to being treated like this. It is simply that I wish I had the strength to get an attitude with people. I wish I could borrow some of that from Iyana sometimes.

After class I drop my things off at my locker and grab my cell phone and money so I can head to lunch. Although I get picked on I love school, the learning aspect of it anyway. My locker is proof of that. It is the neatest space I have. Every page in each binder is perfectly inserted. I have everything organized by class and each class has its own color. I even sanitize my locker out periodically. That is how serious I am about keeping my school work in perfect order. Realizing how excited even the thought of this makes me feel has me realizing what I nerd I can be, but I don't mind.

As I watch everyone I see how much I miss out on, people walking from separate classes and getting excited to meet up with other friends. Sure, I have a close knit group of friends but I don't enjoy high school life like everyone else does. For the most part I stay in my books and my own thoughts. I guess it only makes sense for me to want to be like that and feel that happy and free. I want to be invited to parties because people don't mind me going and not because it gives them a better chance to make fun of me.

In the cafeteria I don't sit at my usual table. I find a corner spot that no one typically sits at so I can talk to Nolan and Iyana. Nolan and I usually sit with a few other kids, no one in particular that we can have non judgmental conversation with. Today we both have things to share that are not for just anyone to hear. Nolan and I both grab chicken tenders and fries to eat. Iyana comes rushing towards the table with an apple and some wheat crackers. I role my eyes at her meal choices or lack thereof, but I'm consuming grease so what can I say.

I call this meeting into order. Nolan sits up straight in the chair and gestures as if he is banging a gavel on the table like a judge presiding over a court room.