Around 10 PM, I gave a good-bye hug to everybody, except for Brianna, who called her mom to get picked up. Man, my actions determine someone else’s mood? Oh well. Not my girl, not my problem. At least Mariana and I had a swell time. I didn’t even know that people went to third base on a mini-golf course. I suppose these Florida girls aren’t too bad after all.
I clambered back onto my bike, selected Goldfinger’s “Too Many Nights” on my iPod, and headed back towards my house. It was now extremely dark out, but that did not deter me from pedaling recklessly. Hey, I was completely carefree at that point.
Despite my wild bicycle ride, I made it back home safely at approximately 10:40. I snatched an ice-cold Gatorade out of the fridge and ran to my room. One could say that my computer is my vice. Sure, I like being out with friends, playing sports, having sex, and the like, but when I’m inside the house, I’ll be at my precious laptop. I do everything at my computer chair – eat, masturbate, work, and even play saxophone. Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you. I play saxophone. I’ve played since fourth grade, and I’d be in my school band, only they suck. Plus, I prefer playing ska gigs and composing. Classical music can suck my left testicle.
I hit a random button on my keyboard and keyed in my password. Lo and behold, I have a new instant message from Jeff, sent not half an hour ago. “Dude, why the FUCK did you try and hook up with Brianna?” I guess he noticed that I was no longer idle, because as I was typing, another message came in from him saying, “FUCK YOU, CHESTER. You know that I liked her, and you went for her and now she’s crying and shit.” Quickly, I deleted my response and, more appropriately, said, “You know, she’s not crying because she’s in love with you and I made a move.” Pause. Nothing from Jeff, so I continued, “She was only so upset because I hooked up with Mariana about a minute later.”
“Oh, good,” Jeff sarcastically responded. Yes, I was able to tell, even through AIM. “You got with the most disgusting whore in my Spanish class. I mean, I knew that you were a player, but I didn’t think that you went for harlots like her.”
I rolled my eyes and typed, “A whore she may be, but she happens to be hot. I don’t want a relationship, but I want to screw her. Over and over again, and then maybe her friend Taylor can join in as well.”
I saw “…” appear on the screen, and then, “You’re missing the goddamn point, Chester!” Another message. “I’m friends with her, and you and I are pretty tight ourselves. Plus, the three of us ride the same bus. Do you know how awkward you’re going to make things?”
“Relax,” I reassured him. “I’m good at getting situations under control. How else would I have been able to juggle all those girls back at home without any problems?”
He said, “I guess you’re right. But you better fix this, or you’ll be sorry.” I literally laughed out loud upon reading this message, reassured him again, and put my away message up to go to sleep.
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The next day, I walked to the bus stop with Jeff in order to discuss the state of things. He had calmed down since last night, but was understandably displeased with the situation. “Chester, you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You know that I’m really good with girls. I thought I had Brianna as a hookup, but when I went for a move, she denied me, so I decided to go for Mariana since she missed the whole thing.”
Jeff slapped a hand to his head. “And what if she said yes? I have a crush on her, dude!” He obviously hasn’t learned the most important rule about girls. “Easy, Jeff,” I said. “There are a lot of other girls out there. What does Brianna have that they don’t?”
He gave me a pissed off look and said, “She’s simply really nice. Most other girls don’t give me the time of day.” This is exactly why I had planned on ditching Jeff as soon as possible. I shook my head and said, “You have to be assertive. I’m not gonna lie – you’re an attractive male. You truly have to be confident and assertive, and girls will follow you everywhere. Then you won’t have to worry about Brianna.”
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I guess you’re right.”
I added, “Oh, and Jeff?”
“Yeah?”
“Quit Spanish Culture Club.”
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We boarded on the bus and headed to the back, just like last time. I let Jeff take the window seat. Brianna was two rows ahead. I told Jeff, “I’m going to make this all better. Watch and learn.” I slipped out of my seat and sat next to Brianna, who was working on her algebra 2 homework. She gave me a look of disgust, which actually hurt a bit.
“There’s no need to be like that. I only came to apologize,” I said in an honestly sorrowful tone. “I know what I did was totally wrong. I shouldn’t have led you on, nor should I have made out with Mariana. I was just jealous of Jeff. I’m really, really sorry.” I put my hand on her shoulder.
She sniffed and said, “You don’t know how much that hurt, Chester. I’m not used to guys hitting on me at all, and here you are, going over the top and trying to use me. I shouldn’t be talking to you right now. I should be slapping you or kicking you in the balls or spraying mace into your general facial area or something.”
I chuckled at the last part and put on a facial expression that showed both remorse and knowledge. I stated solemnly, “I appreciate your kindness. Honestly, I’m a typical guy. I like hooking up. I mistakenly took you for the kind of person who would be as willing as me.”
She sighed and said, “Why are all guys the same?”
“Possibly because most girls are sluts. It gets us into a habit.” I paused and said, “Well, I just wanted you to know that I was really sorry, and I hope that we can still be friends and whatnot.” She gave me a half-hearted grin and mouthed, “Maybe.”
I smoothly slid back out, went back to Jeff, and said, “Problem solved.”
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Once off the bus, I met up with Alex, who was lingering around the bus drop-off area, just like the first day. “Hey dude,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “Let’s hurry over to Grayson’s. He’s handing out books when you walk in, and I don’t want to be stuck with a crappy copy, like the late arrivals get.” I nodded and walked with him.
True to Alex’s word, Mr. Grayson handed the two of us a mint-condition textbook called Living in the Environment. Sounds wishy-washy to me. I skimmed through and saw pictures of things polluting the environment.
The bell rang about ten minutes later, and everybody sat upright in their seats. Mr. Grayson proclaimed, “Welcome to another day of Advanced Placement Environmental Science. Open your books to Chapter 1; we’re going to start off true to the syllabus by covering the basics of environmental problems and their causes.”
I believe I mentioned yesterday to Jeff that I had a perfect photographic memory. I wasn’t lying. My studying consists of reading each chapter once, either during class or at home. Normally, I’ll try and devote classtime to this form of “studying”, but since Grayson gave notes, I had to pay attention and copy them down. Hey, more information to impress random people with.
Before I knew it, I had most of chapter 1 committed to memory. The bell rang soon enough, and I was in French. Mrs. Hess decided to spend the entire class period reviewing basic grammatical concepts from French 1, such as direct objects, indirect objects, verb conjugation patterns, certain irregular verbs, passé composé, and adjective endings. It was a doozy, as they say.
I always hate the first week or so of school, because it’s devoted to teaching you things you already know. Like in HOPE, Mrs. Carpenter spent the class period giving us notes on the obvious things about the human body. Well, I guess some people didn’t know that eating too much and not exercising could make you obese.
During lunch, I decided to eat with Jeff, Alex, Eric, and some of their acquaintances. Note that I said eat, not socialize with, because after I was done, I went to hang out with Mariana and Taylor. I’m pretty sure that eating each other’s faces isn’t allowed on campus, but Mariana and I did it anyway.
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I was at the mall with Jenna and Ella on a sunny Saturday afternoon. It was the middle of March; the temperature was perfect, about sixty degrees out. In New York, that kind of weather makes you want to get out and throw the Frisbee or walk the dog. Anyway, I was sitting on a bench with Jenna on my left and Ella on my right. I was making out with Jenna while Ella watched in silence. One might say I was cheating on Meghan, but I’d beg to differ. Meghan thought that she and I were dating, but I knew better.
Every once in awhile, I’d pull away from Jenna’s face and carry on a conversation with Ella. I found it kind of ironic. I mean, I had all of Jenna’s saliva, all of her germs hanging off of my lips, and Ella was looking at me like I was the best thing since sliced bread. I thought I saw a glimpse of lust in her eyes, which shocked me. Ella and I, being best friends, had discussed the logistics of dating, or even simply screwing around with each other, and we came to the mutual decision that it would ultimately ruin our friendship.
So what was lust doing in her eyes?
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Over one thousand miles away from Saratoga Springs, and I saw the same look in Taylor’s eyes when I took breaks with Mariana. I have to admit, Taylor’s pretty hot. She’s a skanker like me, and she always seems to wear these stunning jean shorts that showed off her defined legs. But still, I was with Mariana, and that was good enough for now. I may be a complete asshole, but I don’t directly ditch a girl for her best friend immediately after.
The repetitive sound of the bell rang (I’m pretty sure it’s tuned to a C-sharp), and after a couple minutes more with Mariana, I gave her a final kiss goodbye and went to geometry, where I met up with Jeff. Mrs. Wong, being the bitch that she is, insisted on us doing two worksheets at the start of class. She also assigned us two more lessons to do without even teaching them, since most of the time was devoted to us shouting random questions at her in an effort to sidetrack her from geometry. Long story short, it worked.
Mr. Turner brought us to a quick start in AP Human Geography. He doesn’t give notes, but he did give us a lecture on the entire first chapter with expectations of a quiz on its vocab tomorrow. Luckily enough, AP Human Geography might as well be renamed AP Common Sense. Almost all of the vocab words are extremely obvious, and the class is based upon vocabulary memorization and application of concepts, two things I am quite proficient at.
There must be an AP theme with covering chapters in a day, because Mr. Grayson covered all of chapter 1, a summary of biology and the biosphere, in forty-five minutes. He did assure us, though, that we wouldn’t be moving that fast through every chapter and that we only went so quickly since “a monkey with a spoon up its butt” would be able to pass a test on that chapter.
Finally, the day drew to a close with English. Mrs. Mangepomme dove right into the literature book, having us read Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado. Personally, I hate Edgar Allen Poe with an undying passion, and Amontillado is an absolutely terrible read. I sat next to Carlos and Mariana and basically made fun of Poe’s atrocious writing style the entire time. I had them in tears of laughter. The best part is that Mangepomme didn’t even care! She assigned us a lengthy textbook assignment on the story to ensure that we understood the story. More homework, less happiness.
When the final bell rang, I sprang out of my chair, grabbed Mariana’s hand, and walked her to the traffic circle. Jeff told me that the bus didn’t leave until twenty minutes after school ended, so I had some alone time with Mariana. Aren’t sluts great?
Back on the bus, Brianna seemed to have forgotten about her anger towards me, and we ended up having a lovely conversation about advanced biology. She was only in Biology Honors, yet she was still able to hold her own in that discussion. I enjoyed it immensely. Unfortunately, some kid named Eugene (I kid you not) butted into our conversation. I didn’t know who he was at first, but Jeff pulled me aside and explained that he was the school retard. He was mildly autistic and had no conception of proper manners and behavior and social standards. I had just brought up sexual reproduction, and Eugene came out of nowhere and said, “Sex? I had sex with a pole once, and I had sex with my butt.” I desperately wanted to punch him in his smug smirk, but I was at such a loss for words that I actually lost coordination of my body. This was when Jeff explained Eugene’s problem.
Eugene certainly did have problems. When Jeff and I got off at our stop, he was singing the Barney theme song as loud as he could.
