Day 1

87 6 5
                                    

    Dear Diary,

    Am I the kind of person who would say "Dear Diary?" I have no idea. I'm still trying to figure things out. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Rory Weston. I'm the most awkward 14-year-old girl to walk the face of the earth. You're probably thinking, "Oh, Rory, you're trying to be so relatable for this generation of 'cool' socially awkward people!" Not true. There are the "cool" socially awkward people like all of those introverts on YouTube, but then there's me. I start conversations by talking about how "nifty" the hydraulics on the construction vehicles are outside. Somehow I manage to have friends? How? I'm so annoying! Goodness, I freaking say hey, hey, hey, until they say, "WHAT?" and I'm like "Hi!" So, how the whole "friend thing" happened, I have no clue. I think that some sort of fairy put a spell on them while they were asleep so that they would see me through a perfect filter. We aren't the populars and we like it that way. Why care about that kind of stuff when you could have fun instead. I like to think of our little group as The Island of Misfit Toys like in the Rudolph claymation.

    I also listen to music from the 90's and 00's. I definitely DO NOT listen to the popular music of today's kids. Feel free to imagine me as a crazy, old, cat lady waving her cane and yelling, "Those darn kids!" But, seriously. It's my older sister's fault. Ever since a couple years ago when she started playing music that didn't sound like the typical stuff that was on the radio, I was hooked. And now I've rolled down the hill of crazy awesome alternative/punk/prog/whatever the heck else rock into the trash can of fandom. I also would prefer reading books or watching Sherlock, Doctor Who, or YouTube any time than go and interact with anyone.

    I'm too uncoordinated to play sports which puts me in a whole other realm of the high school scene. I'm more of the choir and play person than the "GO SPORTS!" person. Even though I do enjoy a right peachy match of whatever is going on at the time, though sometimes I get confused of what's actually going on.

    The worst possible thing that classifies me as a member of the Island of Misfit Toys is my awful humor! When I'm sarcastic, nobody can tell so it's awkward. When I make a pun, I get a bunch of forced laughs. Basically I have the driest, worst, corniest humor on earth. Basically, this is why no boy would ever give me a second glance.

    I have out of control auburn hair, too tall to be considered "cute" but too short to be considered "willowy." I feel like the only time any guy would talk to me is for homework help. Besides, the guys at my school are all jerks. It's not even worth it.

    Well, now that I've introduced myself, let's give some context about my daily struggles.

***********************************************************************************************

    "Rory, wait up!" my tallest friend, Bella, charged down the hall, nearly barreling into Lacey and Charlotte.

    "What's the rush?" Charlotte tucked a piece of curly chocolate brown hair behind an ear. (Lucky).

    "Guess who was totally staring at you!" Bella said, trying to keep still.

    "Timmy the imaginary turtle. I have no idea! Who do you think is madly in love with me now?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

    "Chris!!!"

    "Ugh, what a jerk! Him and all his little worshippers are ugh! I can't even describe him! He's so self centered, rude, mean, and a bunch of other adjectives I'd better not say!"

    "Yeah, but he totally was during biology."

    "Even I saw it!" Lacey chimed in with a grin.

    "I'm with Rory on this one," said Charlotte, reaching up to my height to put an arm around me.

    "We'd better get going, the bell's gonna ring any minute," Lacey looked up at the clock.

    We all rushed to history. Once we had taken our places we realized there was a substitute at the front of class. The one notoriously known for putting on a video with the lights still on and letting us talk for the whole period.

    I turned to Charlotte and was immediately interrupted by a paper ball hitting the back of my head.

    It was him. In all his maniacal glory. Chris Cobalt. I tried ignoring him and carrying on my conversation.

    "Hey. Roaring Lion Girl. If you don't turn around so I can tell you something, there'll be glue on it next time," his voice, deceptively laid-back, had an edge of seriousness to it.

    I turned around with a huff. "What is it, Chris?"

    "Nothing," he looked me up and down and smirked, "you can turn around now."

    What the heck? Ugh. What a pretentious jerk. All the other girls except my group were head over heels for him and constantly surrounded his friends and him, flirting and making the guys all the more repulsive.

    Just then, a tall figure appeared in the doorway.

    "Sorry I'm late," he said, walking over to sit by Chris. Must've been one of Chris's many followers. I can't keep track. But the thing that really stood out to me was his eyes. As soon as he walked in, he fixed his gaze. Light blue, almost gray. He didn't break eye contact until I blushed and looked down. He's just another follower. Not worth my time.

    Other than failing at dodgeball, and more mad antics with my friends, it was a pretty regular day. Except for the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about those eyes. I had to keep telling myself, "Just another Chris, just another Chris."

    At lunch, the usual flock of Chris groupies surrounded their table, and our table was in the far corner of the lunchroom. That didn't stop him and his right hand wannabee Michael from striding over. The rest of the group egged them on from their position at their table.

    "So, Lion, coming to the Halloween dance?" said Chris.

    "Yeah, Lion, good one Chris," commented Michael.

    Bella paused in conveying a story. I gestured for her to continue, purposefully pretending they were invisible. We laughed at the end and I could feel Chris's eyes boring into me, practically on fire.

    "Well, you see, Lion, I'll save you a slow dance, out of pity. I'm just that nice."

    "How generous, Chris. She's not orphan Annie," Charlotte said, rolling her eyes.

    "Whatever smaller Tall One. Anyway, Lion-"

    "Wait, Chris, I thought you said earlier that you think she's super hot-" cut in Michael.

    "Shut up! Well, I'll see you there, Lion. Try to tame that mane of yours."

    I glanced over to their table, disgusted by the high fives they received. The only one who wasn't cheering or giggling was the guy from earlier. In fact, he had looked up from his food and was looking in my direction again. I wish he'd stop doing that.

    Well, it's getting pretty late. Maybe I'll write again tomorrow. Until then,

    Rory



Daily Dose of DysfunctionalityWhere stories live. Discover now