I'm Not Quite Sure Yet

Is Gaston Anyone's Spirit Animal?

"Through the mist, through the woods, through the darkness and the shadows; it's a nightmare but it's one exciting ride..." I mumble-sing the lyrics from Disney's "Beauty and the Beast" as I stalk down the hallway with a bit of a bounce in my step. I know it seems like a bit of a contradiction. It's all good, my entire life is a contradiction. "Say a prayer, then we're there at the drawbridge of a castle and there's something truly terrible insideee." Throwing my lunchbox down onto the circular maroon table with a thump, I continue to sing quietly, now putting comically dramatic expression into my face while staring down the three of my friends that are already seated. "It's a beast! He's got fangs, razor sharp ones. Massive paws, killer claws for the feast. Hear him roar, see him foam, but we're not coming home 'til he's deeeaaaad! Good and dead!!" I throw up my hands with emphasis. "KILL THE BEAST!" I proclaim at a slightly louder volume than my normal quiet mumbling.

My friends, who are quite used to my strange antics by now, simply grin and let out a few quiet laughs with raised eyebrows that question my sanity.

"Which movie is it this time?" Lauren drawls in her extremely faded Georgian accent, which she'll no doubt re-intensify over a summer vacation with her extended family.

I drop my jaw dramatically, allowing my carefully filled-in eyebrows to draw together in mock surprise and offense. Placing a self-manicured (with baby pink holo) hand over my heart, I mumble "Beauty and the Beast" before throwing myself into the cheap black plastic chair haphazardly. I suddenly straighten up. "Hey, do you think anyone views Gaston as their spirit animal?"

McKenna rolls her light green eyes and brushes her long blond hair, always parted perfectly in the middle, over her shoulder with an ungraceful snort, ignoring my question. "At least it's not another Hunchback of Notre Dame song."

Lauren and Naomi nod their heads in unison vigorously and grin at each other.

"Okay, first of all," I start, point my finger at my friends in an accusatory manner, "your nods were wayyy too in sync. What are you, a two-headed doll possessed by the spirit of the metronome? Because that's the only way to explain the amount of perfect timing that just happened." I receive a chuckle and an eye roll at my musings. "And second of all, what do you have against my Hunchback? My bro Quasi? Huh? Things get serious when you insult someone's favorite Disney movie." I smack my hand down on the table, causing a loud smacking noise and an equally annoying pain in my hand.

I hear Ava approaching before I even see her, probably because her voice is so annoyingly loud.  "Even I'm starting to get annoyed by 'God Help the Outcasts' on loop." I get a gentle smack on the back of my head, Gibbs style, as a greeting and return the loving gesture to my flying friend. "And you know how I feel about Frollo, my Catholic brother from another mother," she raises her dark eyebrows suggestively as she slides gracefully into the chair next to me. "I thoroughly enjoy him showing everyone just how kind we Catholics are by burning down all of Paris in one musical number."

"Check your saltiness," Naomi remarks. "You're at the Dead Sea level. I'm gonna need you bring it down to a Chesapeake bay level."

Tilting her nose up, Ava sasses her back. "I refuse to be an estuary. Especially one as polluted as the Chesapeake."

"Woah, woah, woah," Lauren says placidly, always the mediator of the group. "Ava, there's no nead to be so rude to the Chesapeake. Yes, it's very sick, but it's not to blame."

"All of us who live in the bay's watershed are to blame," I pipe up, always quick to point out humanity's faults. "If we get it together now, the few species left there might have a tiny bit of a chance." I laugh darkly at my own joke. "Oh wait, we're people. Changing a habit or two to avoid killing millions of creatures is out of the question."

Naomi, my fellow eco-freak tree-hugger, sighs sadly and shakes her head slowly, causing her short, dark locks to get stuck in her bubblegum pink lip gloss. "Tru tho."

"Well, this is depressing. Good job, guys." Ava opens her lunchbox unceremoniously and the rest of us follow suit.  You don't actually expect us to eat the nasty school food, do you? It's much easier to pack your own stuff than to get over food poisoning.

Always the one to bring up my obsession, I can't help but mumble, "all of this bay talk reminds me of the 'Kiss the Girl' scene in the Little Mermaid.." I get a few exasperated sighs in response, plus a bonus disappointed look from Ava. Shrugging my shoulders, I bite down into my peanut butter and nutella sandwich and the mood lightens slightly.