- Hello! Sorry for my absence. I've been doing lots of other things like school. This story is a bit long but I hope you enjoy this slice of life.
I like to think that I started writing when I was in second grade. My Teacher, Mr. Tennor, nicknamed me Applesauce, a nickname he said was creative just like me. My name is actually Alphonse, but no one can pronounce it right, so Applesauce it is from now until I grow up. I'm in sixth grade now, and there are only a few people who still call me Applesause. Josh, my best friend, I don't think he knows the nicknames origin, still calls me that. There are other friends also, and new friends whom have overheard Josh calling me by name. They awkwardly introduce themselves by asking if that's really what my parents call me. They do, but only as a joke.
One girl, Who goes by Cheshire, for her aptitude towards wearing black and white stripes, has become a more important friend recently. We have four classes together, Math, Science, Health, and Drama, with Josh there for three of those. She likes to remind me what the homework is, which I appreciate, because I always forget to write it down. I like writing, it is a fun creative output for me, I also love fancy words and grammar.
Cheshire is sitting across the table from me in Health, asking me what I'm writing. She always does that. I promise her that I will share the document with her when I finish writing. It's not much, just a short start on a story I have been planning to write since I got bored in math about an hour ago. I had so far only introduced the character. His name was Farenheit Farthing, an adventurer in his mid fourtys on a search for treasure in the catacombs of a made up civilization, because I'm too lazy to do any research on real lost treasures. I fantasize about becoming a famous author, even though I know that in reality my book will likely not make any difference in anyone's lives. I am writing on an iPad. It's not the best place to write but it works fine when pretending work in boring classes.
"Alphonse, Will you please read the next paragraph?" Mrs. Hutch asked me. My eyes jerked up to the board, the reading was luckily already there I paused and looked for the words.
"There are some types..." Mrs. Hutch prompted monotonously, I picked up and read the section of the reading, my heart pumping. I hate speaking in front of strangers. It makes my throat close up and my head hurt, like I'm trying to sound a certain way and it's not working. I feel panicked, and as soon as I can stop speaking I just want to curl up and hide. Cheshire looks worried as I gulped down fear.
"Are you okay?" Cheshire whispered to me across the table. I nodded and look up to the front of the class. The projector shines a reading that I barely understand, though after a short inspection of what I can see, I don't agree with it. It's about gender, how we must under all circumstances protect gay or bisexuals. It makes me wonder why we don't protect straights. I'm straight, and I don't like being viewed as an enemy because of who I like. I turned back to my iPad.
It's not an easy task, describing the placement of rocks in a river. Fahrenheit was crossing a hundred yard river by jumping across on enormous monoliths that protruded from the water. I wanted to use more than one sentence. But it's hard to think over the voice of this one classmate who is incompetent when it comes to reading aloud. He stops and says um as if he cannot possibly comprehend the existence of the word "The" starting sentence. I attempted to ignore him, and imagined a scene of Fahrenheit commenting sarcastically and cruelly on the poor reading.
Well I'll say that's the worst gosh darn reading aloud I have evar heard! Are you dyslexic son? I imagine The older adventurer with a Louisiana accent. He pronounces ever, evar, which I imagine will bother Cheshire and Josh quite a bit. I will be sure to warn them before they start editing poor Fahrenhiet's grammar, mindlessly wiping out his wonderful accent. Fortunately class was ending and it was lunchtime, so I took a moment to send Cheshire the document and put my iPad away.
The walk to the lunchroom was interrupted by a stop to my locker. 14 24 17, right left right, a pattern I made myself memorize in the first week. It was only the middle of the first trimester, and I was tired of listening to my teachers day in and day out, say the same or similar things. There was a new boy sitting at a round table in the hallway by the student center, a large, loud, rectangular room with ping pong and round tables for study groups to work at. This boy, gave had been introduced in my math and drama classes that week, his white blonde hair swept over his left eye. He wore a black hoodie and blue jeans. I thought he seemed nice, but was too shy to talk to him.
"Hey?" He said, I realized he was looking at me, "Can you help me with this math problem?"
"Uhh... Sure, I'm not super great at math but I can try," I replied, walking up to the table to see where he was stuck, "uhh, Gabe? Right?"
"Yeah, what's your name?" His mouth twitched awkwardly, his tongue flicked out momentarily, "I heard someone call you Applesause?"
"That must have been Josh, my name is actually Alphonse," I was looking for what was wrong with his math problem and I didn't see his expression.
"Oh." I borrowed his pencil off the table and I walked him through the steps of the problem as best I could. He was nice.
Cheshire and Josh covered me with questions when I arrived at the lunch table. I sat down and we joked about what happened to me and why I was late. I told them I had gone on a magical adventure, and thought I may never have returned had I not remembered that I had to get an B or higher in English or my parents would end me.
