Monday, April 26, 2010

Lovely, Lazy, Hot, and Not part 27

Thomas
Thursday, as it turns out, is my favorite day of the week. Nobody understand this.
Thursday? Why Thursday? What about Friday and Saturday, or even Sunday? Well, Saturdays
in this part of the country are more boring than Mondays in other parts of the country. Friday
is a school day. What's so great about Friday? Except that it's the day before Saturday, which,
as I mentioned, isn't a good thing in this area. And Sundays. Well. Sunday is the day before
Monday. Sunday is the end of the weekend, even if the rest of the weekend isn't that great. So,
the conclusion of this is that Thursdays are my favorite day of the week. On Thursdays, my
English teacher puts on one of her many movies from her Romance collection: Titanic, Pride
and Prejudice, Phantom of the Opera, etc. I'm not exactly a big fan of those particular movies
or any of her romance movies, but it beats doing work. My French teacher, a shriveled up little
old woman who knows less French than me, celebrates "Free Doughnut Thursdays" and
literally brings in enough doughnuts for her entire class every Thursday. So that's nice.
I sit down alone at lunch and look out straight ahead of me as I eat, observing all the
different groups- the Spirit Horses, sitting together on two benches because they're just too
too cool for tables, the actual popular people, split up between the quad, where they stand
scattered around talking loudly and throwing things, and the tables closest to the quad, sitting
on the tables and also talking loudly and throwing things. Then I look over at the other tables-
the weird nerd kids who literally seem to have some kind of inner force that lures them
together, the loner kids whose only friends are each other, a few strays sitting alone or with one
or two other people, and then all the other grades- the seniors break up into cliques also, but
all of their groups, no matter how unpopular, stay closest to the cafeteria-the area that might as
well have big letters painted across it reading "SENIORS ONLY". The sophomores and freshies
break up into cliques too, but they just kind of scatter everywhere and mix in with the other
grades, so they seem like they're less stick-to-the-clique based. They're not. Then I look over at
the table closest to the classrooms and farthest from everything, where only the true loners sit,
and spot Venice sitting at her usual table. Only now, someone is sitting with her. Russel. I raise
an eyebrow, surprised by this. Venice usually sits by herself on purpose, not attempting to talk
to other people, simply sitting down and pulling out a book, homework, or her sketchpad, and
keeping to herself. But now she's sitting across from Russel, laughing and throwing lettuce
leaves at him from her salad. He's laughing too, and as he turns to escape the blow of the
lettuce, I catch his eyes and he smiles and winks at me before turning back to face Venice.
What's that about?
"Hey, Thomas. Saw you gettin' jealous at lunch," Russel says as he walks up behind me in
our next class. He smirks and I raise en eyebrow. "Huh?" He laughs, "Oh, come on, don't try to
hide it. I know you were trying to check Venice out and were interrupted by my intruding." He
chuckles, "Sorry for the interference." I gape at him, "I wasn't checking her out! I was just
looking at all the different tables..." He raises an eyebrow at me at me and grins mischeviously.
"I was people-watching," I insist. He sits back in his seat and crosses his arms over his head,
"People-watching. Right. At the place that you go everyday, full of people you've seen everyday
since kindergarden."
"That's not true!" I protest, "There's a lot of people I met much more recently than that! And I
don't know any of the freshman." He waves this off, "Ah, fresh-meat don't count. Who would
want to observe them?"
"Whatever. Think what you like."
"'K." I glare at him and he laughs and looks up at the front of the classroom.

© 2010

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