Gangbanger Study-Buddy

Gangbanger Study-Buddies and Pop-Tarts

The pavement blurs in my vision, occasionally the tip of my shoe enters the picture only to disappear again. My head is at the perfect angle which allows the ability to see ahead without actually having to acknowledge a human life form. After years of trial and error I have finally reduced this angle to a science.

1. Lower the head down slightly to cover the face with a thin veil of hair, but still have enough space for sight.

2. Keep eyes five paces ahead and lowered to the ground to avoid eye contact.

3. Leave the eyes emotionless to reduce the possibility of someone noticing and/or starting a conversation with you.

These three steps have not only been a constant routine in my day-to-day life, but an action that keeps me alive in general. Without this miraculous concoction of hair veils and vacant eyes, I, Paz Gray Thomas, would be a more obvious punching bag for the entire student body.

When I say 'Punching Bag' I mean on both an emotional and physical level. Why would I be treated as a lowly caterpillar among a cluster of butterflies, you ask? Well, the answer to that question is due to the simple fact that I am quiet and do my work, or as others 'kindly' point out, a nerd.

This lifestyle consists of spit wads being tangled in a thick mane of curly, untamable hair at least a thousand times a day. Countless not-so-friendly names being yelled across the room. A bribe to complete that essay that the senior quarterback had absolutely no time to finish due to his big game night and on and on the list goes.

My title of nerd even reached my teachers attention, which brings me to where I am now: Springfield High School's Summer Study Program for the Misguided. This title is just a nicer way of saying, "We round up all the smart kids that we think have no lives outside of school and put them in a building to tutor delinquents for the upcoming school year." However, I do have a life outside school which consists of cozy t-shirts, my laptop and hot dates with Netflix.

But my comfortable home life was wrecked when the study program was put together by my Principal earlier in the school year. Basically, the mayor of our town wanted a way for teenagers recently out of juvie to have a chance to graduate at an actual school and (hopefully) get their life back on track. So he reached out to our school for tutors that would be a "positive influence."

Since my grades are pretty high and I have a squeeky clean record, I was volunteered (unwillingly I might add) by my English teacher, Ms. Tyler. At first I was a little upset but decided to get over it because of all the volunteer hours I would get. In fact, if it wasn't for the volunteer hours I don't think anyone would do it.

Now, standing in front of the yellow doors that lead me to my new summer prison, I feel like I might throw up. I'm not quite ready to have a personal gangbanger study buddy.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of my mind, I open the doors and walk into what was once maybe considered a decent looking lobby. Looking around the dilapidated space I spot a girl not much older than me sitting behind a fold-out table.

"Excuse me. Where is the tutoring being held?" I mumble looking at my hands to avoid looking at her very revealing top.

The girl looks up at me with a disgusted sneer on her perfectly glossed lips. She lifts her finger lazily towards a hallway then quickly returns to her phone.

I squeak out a thank you then make my way down the hall. Maybe if I'm lucky my 'student' won't show up or even better they quit and leave the program all together. I smile at the thought of the possibility but it quickly fades once I enter a room full of tables and books. Many students are scattered about the room. Some sit at tables while others loiter around looking like they'd like to stab someone. A board is displayed at the front of the room with the words PARTNER BOARD written across the top.