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A Week Later
It's just about Christmas, I'm really feeling the Christmas spirit, while I stand in the middle of my, basically empty, studio apartment, holding a bottle of Jameson whiskey in my hand, and the words Lauren told me repeat in my head, be the psycho he claims you are, then I take chug, as I head over to the bathroom, after grabbing my MP3 player, from the kitchen counter. I place them, over my ears, as I walk through the door, then 'Gangsta's Paradise' plays, and I stare at my drunk self in the mirror, starting to get flashbacks, from the club. I step back into the wall, and slide to sit down, then I take a drink, before I close my eyes, listening to the music.
♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎
I look into the window on the door, before heading in Mr. Turner's classroom, with sunglasses on, and I quietly sit down, with Shawn's & Cory's eyes on me, while Topanga is reading something at the front, then I point to Topanga, to redirect their attention, since they're annoying me. "What's with the sunglasses?" Cory wonders, in a not so quiet whisper, causing Turner to look at us, and Topanga too, after she stops reading. "Cory, shut up!" Shawn advises, in a hushed, but still harsh, tone, and I flitch, slightly.
"Interesting, in my class, Mr. Hunter does the yapping, Mx. Hart does the yelling, and Mr. Matthews handles the flinching." Feeny comments, scaring all three of us, while Turner walks up. "Great, now there's two teachers here, it's gonna be hard remembering who's class I'm in." Shawn points out, switching his attention between the two of them. "Mine, Hunter. Remember, 'The Road Not Taken'?" Turner replies, as he points his book to the chalkboard. "A remarkable poem, in which the poet tells us that we make choices in life, and each choice puts us on a new road, that can have a profound effect on our destinies." Feeny tells us. "How does a poem about a guy on two roads, have anything to do with our lives, when we can't even drive, yet?" Shawn ask, confused, then Feeny pats his shoulder. "Isn't he fun?" Feeny remarks, to Turner, then I look at them, as they don't explain to shawn, and I scoff, before turning to shawn. "Shawn, whether it's driving or walking, if you do down the left or the right road, you're making a decision, and the poet's using this example to explain how every decision you make has an outcome, or sometimes known as a consequence." I explain to him, then the teachers look at me surprised.
"Dani was an half hour late to class, but she knows what I'm trying to teach, how is that?" Turner points out. "Remarkable, isn't it?" Feeny responds, through. "Let's add to the explanation, say Mr. Matthews, what was your last choice in your life?" He adds, adjusting his stance, focusing his attention on Cory. "Well, I did just get a job for Christmas Break. I'm the gopher at Little Pauley's Restaurant." Cory answers, as Turner and Feeny nod along. "And I got me this soft, cushy union job, down by the docks. This year, I'll finally be able to buy nice presents for my friends and family." Shawn adds, sounding proud of himself, then Feeny's turns to me. "I got my own apartment." I hesitate before answering, plainly. "Are you settling in nicely?" Turner wonders, then I nod. "Sure." I answer, as I shrug, realising that's a 'Shawn' thing to reply with, and Turner takes a moment. "Huh. Alright, I want you all to keep a journal, of the choices you make over the next week. Then I want you to write a paper on the potential of those choices, to change your life." Turner continues teaching the class, while I move my sunglasses to the top of my head, holding my hair out of my face, and rub my eyes, as I don't completely listen.
"Mr. Turner, what if my choice is to not do the assignment?" Shawn asks, as I take my sunglasses off of my head, to place them back over my eyes, then I fix my hair, quickly. "I second that." I call out, holding up two fingers, by my head, with a slight smile. "You want this one, George?" Turner offers Feeny, gesturing that he has the floor. "No, no. Your class. I get them after lunch." Feeny politely declines the offer. "Well, then you'll both get an 'f', not get into college, spend your time hanging out at the local convenience store, waiting for them to bring in a new batch of lottery tickets." Turner finally answers.
"And that'll change our lives, how?" Shawn remarks, playfully. "Yeah, that's our Saturday night." I point out, keeping the humour going, and Shawn nods along.
