Monster

Chapter Eight--Not School Material

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In first period we learned about the causes of WWI. I have to say, Mr. Bernoll wasn’t that bad. (Meaning he didn’t drone on or yell at me!) Second period was horrible, and not just because we were learning about math, blah, blah, blah. Mrs. Crisp is…so…STUPID! And horrible! Third period was OK, and thank God we didn’t use any antiseptic for anything. And then came fourth period.

            I walked out of Mrs. Carter’s room, already feeling the effects of Hell With Florescent Lighting. I could really use a coffee. Now it was a free period, and…I really didn’t have any friends to hang out with. I had successfully separated all of the cliques by second hour. The popular people: A mix of girls wearing WAY, WAY too short skirts and low cut tops. They all had their hair curled. Then the popular boys: tall, muscular guys who, in my opinion, were cool-person-wannabes. Then there were the bad asses: A small group of people who didn’t have one natural hair color and on their free period probably went behind the school to get high. Then there were the “army dudes”: a group of boys who smelled like rotten pickles and stale Cheetos who went around campus sporting pretend-air-guns and making boom noises. Of course, there were the goody-two-shoes: A group of boys and girls wearing pressed and freaking ironed clothes (who irons their clothes?), who raised their hand every time there was a question to be answered. Unfortunately, there wasn’t really a clique that I got vibes saying: We are monsters! Yay! Come be our friend!

            I hurried to the bathroom, thinking maybe I could get some notes down about any suspicious behavior. I felt like a spy! You know, taking notes on people, stuff like that…except I really hadn’t seen any suspicious behavior, but I could doodle, or something. I pushed open the bathroom door and was met with five faces smiling at me. Like they were expecting me.

            “Hi! You must be the new girl, right? Drew?” One girl asked. She had fiery orange hair and was about an inch shorter than me. There was another girl next to her, who had blonde hair with blue streaks.

            “Uh, hi. Yea. I’m Drew.” I said awkwardly. Crap! I really needed to touch up on my social graces.

            “Well, I’m Leigh. This is Carmen—“ She motioned to the girl with blue streaks. “And this is James, Ben and Emma.” James had light blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Ben was short and had black hair with even darker skin. Emma was super tall and had mouse brown hair.

            “Um, well, hi. Yea. I’m Drew Reed.” I said while trying to give a nice smile. It was probably more of a grimace. Leigh smiled back, but then grabbed my arm and pulled me into the bathroom. Crap! She sat me down on a chair and motioned for the rest of them to come and circle around me.

            “We need to interview you. OK? Just answer the questions.” She waited for me to respond, but I just nodded my head. This was much too similar to my encounter with the therapist.

            “Why did you move here?”

            “I’m from Arizona. My dad found a good job here.” I didn’t miss a beat.

            “Ohhh, Arizona! Isn’t that were the Grand—“ Carmen started, but Leigh cut her off.

            “So you moved here with your parents?” My parents. Parents. Oh, God. No, you will not cry. No.

            “I—um, they…divorced. I don’t…see my mom.” It took all of my will to say that. My parents, in fact, were not divorced. Well, divorced from life.