[ON HOLD] The Chronicles Of Your Average High School Loser

WEEK 7.10 OF OCT 17th

Monday

Homecoming Countdown.
11 more days.

------------------------------------------

        Nigel sat with me at lunch.
It;s been some time since we last interacted. I was surprised to see him. Or was it annoyance? Or maybe relief?
        "Hello," he said.

        "Hello," I replied.
        "I've gotten my first B," he announced sadly. As if we've been on friendly terms for the past three weeks. 
        "Really," I replied flatly. I fit was relief I was feeling before, well, not anymore.
        "Really. And you want to know the worst part?" he asked, biting into his PB&J sandwich.
        No. "Yeah."
        "My parents are making me join a club to make up the extra points I lost. It's extra credit, to make my average rise back to an a hundred. You want to know what club they're making me join?"
        No. "Yeah."
        "Student Government's Preparation Committee."
        I choked on the bagel I was chewing. It would have been more dramatic if I was drinking water and spit that all over his face, but WHAT??
        "The WHAT??" I spat.
        "The Preparation Committee. Need water?"
        Uh, yeah, To spit all over your dumb stalker face!! Again, it wasn't the world's best insult, but I sure would have loved to spit it in his face as I processed the information.
        Oh no. Oh, no. OH NOOO!!
        Youcan'tyoucan'tyoucan'tyoucan'tyoucan'tyoucan'tyoucan'tyoucan't.

        "Oh no. I'm fine." NOIAMNOT.
        Whelp. Con #6 on my list confirmed. Just my luck. Nigel will be there too.

Tuesday

        Mrs. Bridit put up a poster inside the room. She asked for a volunteer to read it out to the class. 
        Rocky raised his hand, stood up, and read out: "Shoot for the moon! Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."
        So basically what you're saying is that failure IS an option, and that when you DO fail, to except that at least you tried? That your among all of the other losers in the world? And not to try and shoot again? Maybe aiming to actually MAKE it this time? No? Slider said so. He was given a detention slip.
       SO you're going to send a student to detention for being correct? I said so. I was handed a detention slip too.
        Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars. Or an inter-dimensional black hole.

Wednesday

        Uuuugh. It's been a day. I was so happy it was Wednesday at first, but then I remembered that Nigel would be there too.
        I took my usual seat in the circular table. Nigel came in and took the seat of Felecia Tres, the senior who sat on my right. Well, not anymore. 
        "Charlie! What a pleasant surprise, seeing you here!" he exclaimed. Wish I could say as much to him.
        I mumbled in reply.  He barreled on, oblivious to my obvious discomfort.
        Then Samuel entered and took his usual seat next to me.
        "Hey," he greeted when he saw me. I warmed up, and was about to give him a stammerish greeting back, when Nigel my dear old buddy here snapped, "And how long has this been going on?"
        I folded my head onto my lap, cause, oh please no. Not now, no.

        Samuel turned to him, disbelieving for a moment, and then just amused. "Excuse me?" he replied with an eyebrow raised.
        "You heard me, dude. Charlie is mine, so back off!"
        Please no. Oh God please no. 
        Sam turned to me. "Do you want me o back off?"
        I think it was the way he didn't drag on the fight any longer, or that he wasn't one of those guys who thought violence was the only answer, or that he didn't start rambling about how I was or wasn't a possession to either or both of them. Or maybe it's the way he asked for my opinion instead of assuming what Id like to do and putting words into my mouth, and didn't regard me as some mental object that needed guidance. Or maybe it was the way he said my name.
        "No," I whispered, then clearing my throat, I said more boldly, "No. I don't want Samu- Sam - to back off."
        Sam cast me a small smile, which sent my heart reeling and my insides smiling, and sat back in his chair with satisfaction clear on his face. I tried hard not to smirk at the face the fell on Nigel's features. It was a mix of how-could-you and that-just-happened and I-thought-we-had-something and um-I hate-you-now and she-is-still-and-always-will-be-mine and I-hate-you-now again.
        Greg later explained that this was the second to last meeting, or at least for the Prep. Com. He told us that the school has voted for the places of the Student Government already, and then he went on to list all of the people who made it in. Felecia Tres was the President. I could here her scream a whoop for across the table. In her new seat. Not next to me. Where Nigel is. Where he shouldn't be.
        The Prep. Com positions were set too. He read out the names and position. I got high-wall decor. Samuel got low-wall decor. Is that a pro or con . . .? (if you know what I mean . . . I guess . . .) Nigel didn't get anything cause it was his first day. Haha.
        They passed out papers, telling the Prep. Com. members how their job was to be done. Then Trista proposed the options of a theme that the Legislative branch has decided on (the leg. branch before the change). She said it was originally up to the Judicial branch to vote but since we're all here, she said we might as well all vote.
        Results were: