part 12
by MeanLookstheIII on March 20, 2007January 2, 2007
I’m bored of vacation. I’ve done Mr. Kim’s math packet, as much as we’ve learned so far. I think I’m going to do all right on his final. It’s Speech I’m worried about. I’ve got to do good on this speech. Mr. Fox has stopped going easy on me. Apparently he thinks I’m past my extreme performance anxiety or something. He’s not wrong, but it was a useful advantage.
It’s been kind of a crappy evening. I got bounced off the TV again for David, which totally pisses me off. I fought to keep it, but no. Mom still made me leave. Dad came into my room later and said he would make David leave, but I said no. Why don’t they get that it’s the principle?
I swear, I’m not the youngest. I’m the middle kid. David’s the youngest. Michael is really like the oldest. I mean, let’s face it. I look up to Michael, not David. It’s pretty damn good that Michael never needed an example to follow. Michael showed me how to do everything, really, from the time that we were little. This was one thing I told Shrink Bob. If there is a choice to focus on David or me, it will always be David.
Today, I was sort of thinking about what a nice guy Shrink Bob was. I know I said I hated going there, but he himself was a great guy. It was nice just to spell out in black and white what I thought was wrong with my family and have someone actually listen. Well, around the first weeks of ninth grade, I was literally going nuts. I mean, I chucked a baseball at David’s head!
I remember that fight I had with Dad. He told me I was out of control and that he was going to ask around for a good counselor. He wanted to make progress before I started high school. “You don’t think you have a problem, do you?” he asked me.
I shook my head defiantly. “No. Not at all.”
So, yeah, once again, I fought. I didn’t want to go. I remember sitting on the step, petting Bailey and holding back tears. Michael walked by, on the way up to his room. “What are you doing?” he asked, staring at me.
“I’m petting the dog.” My voice cracked. Michael is the one person in the world that I can’t hide how I feel to.
I remember him sighing and taking me into the basement. Michael is the real reason I went. He told me there was no shame in going and that I was still a good person. I just needed anger-control strategies. After that, he told me all the stuff he had done. We’re talking EVERYTHING. Everything from weed smoking to secret parties.
It was the best conversation we had had in years. That was the day we made a pact that we would tell all stories to each other. “The next two years can be fun, if you want,” he said. He snuck out a week later through my window, and I helped him. Good thing Mom and Dad never found that out, even though we were loud as hell.
I should go. It’s late. ‘Bye.
January 3, 2007
Today, I actually woke up before one o’clock. Actually, I woke up at ten-thirty and promptly went back to sleep. Too early. I got out of bed at about twelve-thirty. Well, that’s better than two in the afternoon. I know I’m not going to be sleeping at all the night that vacation ends.
Pretty good day today, for vacation. I took Grandmom all around the city today, because she doesn’t really know her way around here yet. I don’t want to say that she’s a scary driver, but she could be better. The park jobs need work. I guess I’m not really one to talk, am I? I can’t park to save my life. Well, whatever. I actually had fun. We can’t be that different, after all. Something tells me that she would have been a very different person, had she not married into the Beaulieus.
Ugh. I want to go back to school! I miss school. Latin, most of all. I’ve decided what my New Year’s resolution is. I’m going to be nicer to Mr. Roberts and actually listen when he goes off on a tangent. I’m going to stop talking in band, most of all. I’m going to cut the “weird look” that I apparently have on my face. Kind of stupid, I know, but I think it’ll benefit everyone.
Mr. Roberts has to like me for me to get into Symphony Band, although he let Vijay in, and Vijay was the most tactless guy in Concert Band last year. Mr. Roberts actually screamed at him one day. Really screamed. I’ve never seen him so mad, and we’re talking Roberts, here. I think what happened was Vijay forgot his music or something and he didn’t ask for a copy until his solo came up or something like that.
It was almost scary. Roberts gave him a death stare and then walked out of the room. The band oohed. “He’s going to go get the whip, Vijay!” Caleb shouted. Everyone laughed. After that, Roberts came back in with a part and gave Vijay a roared lecture. I was sort of thinking, hey, if that guy can get in, maybe Roberts will forgive all my past shenanigans.
Okay, Weird Dream Time. I dreamed I was packing for some band trip. Interlochen, I think. First, I couldn’t find a suitcase that would hold all my stuff, and then I realized I was late. Really late. I went out into the kitchen and begged Mr. Julius to wait (because apparently he was driving us), but Mr. Julius said he couldn’t wait. The last thing I remember was running out to the driveway and seeing a red sedan there and then I started waking up. The first thing I thought was, “Crap! I didn’t pack deodorant or a toothbrush!”
The packing means there are big changes ahead. Oh, great. Being late means I fear change. A car means that I need to stop and enjoy life. Red is raw power or passion. A suitcase means that changes are needed. Are we sensing a theme here? I wonder what this huge change will be. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?
I think we’re eating, so I’m going to go.
January 8, 2007
Our first day back. I’m so happy. I’m just about falling asleep right now, though. Eh, the first day back’s always kind of hard. No one is fully awake. I think I’m the only person who slept last night. Everyone kept telling me they couldn’t sleep.
The best part of my day was in band. Mr. Roberts grew a beard. We were quite amused. The first thing Ashley asked me was, “Have you seen him?” I hadn’t, so she pointed to the front of the band room. I burst out laughing. He looked like a lumberjack. I also almost cracked up when he was close to us and trying to identify whose music had been dropped. That would screw my resolution of being more respectful of Roberts. The beard looks goofy, though.
It was also good to be back in Latin. I’ve missed Toner and Garrett. I did the future perfect tense on the board and then we translated a passage. We actually got to the end of the first paragraph in a half-hour. Toner was the first to get off focus, as usual. Part of me suspects that most of the time he’s just showing off, because he’s never this way in band.
Today Garrett and I were discussing his social standing. (You know, I think we may tease him a little much.) Garrett said that he would go around to every freshman and see how many knew him. “Gwen thinks your a good person,” I said to Toner, naming our freshman friend in Speech.
“Who the hell’s Gwen?” he asked, looking confused.
“She knows you!” I answered. “You know, Gwen who has highlights in her hair?”
Apparently he doesn’t know Gwen.
So, yeah, that’s pretty much how my day went. Now, I’m off to do other stuff. ‘Bye.
January 10, 2007
Today’s Dad’s birthday. He’s reached the ripe old age of fifty-three. Old guy. Well, younger than my grandfather, I guess. “Old” is actually really subjective. People get to be sixty and claim they’re not old yet.
I had just about the worst fight with Dad last night. It started out so stupid. It was my driving, really. I accidentally pulled out after a stop sign when there was a car coming and he totally flipped out. So, therefore, he was already annoyed at me when we got to where we were going, which was the music place to get my piano score.
Anyway, I had forgotten the composer’s name, so I gave the title of the piece and how I thought the composer’s name was spelled. No big deal, right? Wrong. Dad went nuts. He said all this horrible stuff about how I was awful with details and a bunch of crap like that. I tried to stay cool and just shoot back responses, but he just kept yelling. He drove me to tears. It made me so upset because I’ve been trying so hard not to be like this, and he wouldn’t just acknowledge it as a mistake and move on. I called him a bunch of stuff, including harsh and unnecessary and everything on that order.
Finally, he ordered me up to Michael’s room to get the piece of music so he could look at the composer’s name. Mom caught me, but I couldn’t talk at all through my tears. Finally, we all argued for awhile upstairs in Michael’s room, after Dad came up. I haven’t said those kind of things to them in forever. Really. I actually don’t think I ever have had the freedom to call them whatever came to mind. All the oldest stuff came up, stuff we haven’t argued about in forever, stuff like Cam.
He said that Cam had wanted me to be his girlfriend, so they had made me stop hanging out with him. (Yeah, and what if I was cool with being his girlfriend back then, huh?) That pissed me off, partly because they were totally right. “How do you know we never talked about that?” I raged at Dad. In a way, we had, back in about eighth grade. People were constantly asking us if we were going out, so we decided it would defeat the purpose if we did go out. We weren’t going to give those Tappan assholes the satisfaction.
It ended with Mom working it out. She made me apologize to Dad for not being prepared. Dad actually apologized for being a harsh prick. I flatly refused to give him a hug, though. I was freaking pissed off. Quite frankly, I would have rather punched him. I was worn out for the rest of the night and fell asleep in front of the TV about eight. I dragged myself up to bed, took out my contacts, and fell instantly asleep. Nine hours of sleep, which was good. I felt much better today. It was our worst fight in a really long time.
Today was better. I found out yesterday in English that I got 96% on my paper that I wrote for Mr. Wilson, the one about Dr. Lanyon. That was great. It made me feel good, because I got the same grade as Paul. Man, I owe Paul a lot. He helped me so much. Today, we saw three interpretations of the book we’re reading. The first one was obnoxious and going nowhere, so I said so. Mr. Wilson himself once told us that he was wondering what drugs they were on when they wrote it. The second and third were better, so I wrote that. English is so awesome.
We got a student teacher a few days ago. The problem is, Nick keeps making jokes about her and making me laugh. On the first day, he took one look at her and whispered to me, “That’s Mr. Wilson’s ‘ho.” I lost it. Now I can hardly look at her without remembering Nick’s little comment. He’s a good guy, even though I’ve heard from tons of people that he used to smoke a lot of weed. He’s all about living life to the fullest and not being held back by the status quo. Well, the water polo team does weird things to you.
In Speech we’re now doing debate. I have the nicest group ever. I’m almost going to be sorry to debate against them, because they’re the coolest people in the world. Lucky for me, I got Giancarlos, a friend of Lisa and mine who we love to tease. Nice South American guy.
We’re doing gay rights. I have no idea how I feel about that yet, since it doesn’t affect me. I was raised in a Catholic family that says they shouldn’t be recognized as a marriage, but I don’t know if I agree yet. I’ve decided I’m not going to be Republican just because my parents are right-wing, because that’s not a true belief system. Mr. Fox hates that, too. He says people should look at how they really feel, not what their parents say. I think I’m going to miss him. He’s taught me about a lot having to do with the media. Part of me thinks he’s fairly conservative himself.
We had a sub in Latin, the first one since I palled up with Toner and Garrett. It wasn’t nearly as fun as last time, but she was kind of nice. She at least went to Huron, anyway. She played saxophone in the band for Mr. Roberts. I was talking to her for awhile. We got no work done, as usual. At one point Toner walked up and rested his arms on my shoulders. I rolled my eyes and said, “I seem to have a freshman stuck on me.”
Toner really reminds me of Cam sometimes. Just a little more of a know-it-all. I feel sort of bad, because I know he likes me. I have to say, really not my type. I can tell, since he keeps teasing me about Luis. Man, I’m never going to hear the end of that one.
Okay, I need to go to bed. I’m going to go. ‘Bye.
January 11, 2007
Not that bad a day today. Mr. Julius was gone again today. The weird thing was that his sub didn’t show. I was walking from band up to Latin, and I saw the class congregated around the door. I knew something was up, since Mr. Julius is never, ever late. The TA came by and said that Mr. Julius was gone and had been for the past two hours, so we should just go home. I guess the sub hadn’t shown for those hours, too.
So, anyway, the class went its separate ways. The Asian chicks who are friends of Garrett’s went to the library to work on homework. I thought that we’d catch Toner on the way to the cafeteria, where Garrett and I decided to go, since that’s the place sub-less classes are supposed to go. We did see him and I yelled, “Hey, cafeteria!” at him, but he didn’t hear or something. I was about to reach out and grab his backpack and pull him along with us, but Garrett stopped me for some reason. The rest of the class had gone away, so it was us two on our own in the cafeteria.
We were a bit bored. Neither of us had cards or anything, so we were reduced to playing games on Garrett’s graphing calculator. The first game was called Bomber Kids or some such thing. I was bad at first. Took me awhile to get the controls right. Also, I kept blowing myself up. I finally won one when Garrett blew himself up. I was cracking up at how bad I was. We played a few more games on the calculator until the bell. Man, it turned out to be a fun period. It reminded me of the twenty-first of September, that great day in Latin that I figured out I was going to be okay.
That was the best part of the day. I was kind of disappointed that we couldn’t find Toner, because I wanted to talk to him about Roberts’ latest outburst. He totally lost it today in band. It was almost frightening, really.
For the most part, it had been a totally normal band hour. We started a new song, “The Saint and the City”. It has to do with St. Michael and how he saved some mythical city from a dragon. We were playing for awhile, with me making sure not to say much to Matt Stern, because I’ll be the first to be blamed. It was easier for me to be quiet, because Ashley was gone today. I was making sure to look him straight in the eye and nod at everything he said and all that good stuff. Suddenly, near the end of the hour, Danny Semaan (our resident loudmouth), started talking.
“Danny,” MacArthur said sharply, interrupting Mr. Roberts’ musical advice to the low brass. “He’s talking up there!”
Roberts stopped and looked questioningly at MacArthur. “He’s talking!” said MacArthur, pointing an accusatory finger at Danny. Tattletale, I couldn’t help thinking, amused. However, things got unfunny very fast. Mr. Roberts sat up on the podium, wearing the look he wears before he completely flies off the handle. “Thank you, Mr. MacArthur,” he started, “because I’ve been close to losing my temper today.”
That’s about the time that things went really south. He started out by saying that many of us are paying attention and we’re connecting and that’s great, but there are people who are dragging us down. His face turned bright red. I kept my face perfectly blank and prayed that I wouldn’t accidentally set him off more. “Trumpets!” he yelled, almost out of nowhere. “You need to bring up the slack, because you have let it out!” He said that it wasn’t all the trumpets in the section, just a few, mostly at the bottom of the section. “Mainly the thirds,” he added angrily. “Boy, I’m being specific today, aren’t I?”
Don’t look at me, I’m a second, I thought to myself. It took me awhile to convince myself that I wasn’t the problem here, because I’m so used to being yelled at on the trumpets’ behalf. Come on, Mr. Roberts, I begged. I went back. I apologized. Please don’t single me out.
Turns out he never did, thankfully. He just went on to say that there are people in Varsity Band who would love their spot, and he used this one girl who’s a freshman French horn player as an example. (Yet another problem I have with Roberts. Does he not get that people hate to be used as examples?) He said that she’s pretty much the hardest worker and he would take her for Symphony Band right now. I felt so incredibly sorry for her. It was uncalled for. He loves to single people out, that guy. Then the bell rang and it was over. Everyone hightailed it out of there. That’s band for you these days.
Now, I need to go cram for my Geometry packet, because in the end, I have no work ethic. I should also study. Big test tomorrow.
January 12, 2007
I got just about the best news today. FUZZ IS COMING HOME ON SUNDAY!! I got the news while I was in the library. I thought I felt my cell buzz, so I pulled it out and it said that I had missed one call from Amy. I was a little surprised, since she was supposed to be at the Martin Luther King assembly at that time. I debated for a minute, then called her back. She told me in a whisper what was going on. I wanted to freak out right there in the library, but the librarian is a bitch so no such luck.
I saw Amy after band. We took one look at each other and then we grabbed each other in a fierce hug. I’m sure we looked mentally unstable or something to the people coming by. I am so happy. Fuzz belongs with us and that’s the end of it. I don’t think he’ll be graduating with us, though, because Amy once told me that he had to repeat part of ninth grade. I don’t care, really. I just want him here.
Today was really a very interesting day. It was assembly schedule, so I had no one to hang out with during lunch. I had B lunch and all my friends have A or C. I hung out in the library during lunch (and that’s when I got the phone call) and read The Rise and Fall of the American Teenager. I really can’t decide whether I like it or not yet. I kind of like the guy who wrote it, because he’s really got a hold on how teenagers think. His main message is that teenagers are what we’ve made them, so stop bitching.
It was thirty-five minutes for every class but fourth hour, which was over an hour. This was really okay, except that we had to take a test first hour. It was actually really easy. I did all the extra credit I could remember, since Mr. Kim omitted some stuff. He said that if we did the stuff he had cut out, we would get extra credit. I went for it and I think I did really well.
In English Mr. Wilson was kind of mad. He told us that the quizzes we took a few days ago were the worst that he had seen yet from us. He wrote the top five grades on the board and said that everyone who was not those people had to do vocabulary. I wasn’t on it, but Mr. Wilson ended up excusing me because I got 93%, which is pretty damn good. I ended up doing the vocab anyway, since Nick said I would get extra credit. He got a haircut, actually. Paul didn’t even recognize him. It was hilarious.
The assembly was not really that enjoyable. There was not one white person on that stage. There were a million poems and no one really read them with feeling or anything. Only about half of Mr. Drake’s Earth Science class showed up, anyway. I think Mr. Drake was really enjoying it, because our class has serious behavioral problems. The ones that showed were the people who actually kind of care, so he didn’t have to deal with the usual dumbasses.
They didn’t even show up for Mr. Drake’s class. We have a really big class, and there were about twelve people total who showed up. We did a lab, a computer-generated one. It was kind of confusing, so it was good Mr. Drake had more time to help us. I finished, so I don’t have any homework but the book questions. After that we went back to the classroom and we all watched Bill Nye the Science Guy. Man, that’s a good class.
We didn’t play in band, since Mr. Roberts deemed thirty-five minutes too short to get anything done. We covered what he called “verbal business”, with stuff for Solo and Ensemble and the trip. He handed out a piece of paper a little later. We have to measure and weigh our instruments for recording purposes. There was a space for Instrument’s Name on the paper. “So, Claire, do you know any of this?” asked Matt.
“Yeah,” I said, scanning the paper. “’Instrument’s Name: Floyd’.” Matt and Ashley cracked up. We spent some time thinking up over-the-top names for our trumpets, such as Sir Drake the Third and such. I have to find the serial number, the height, the width, and the length for my trumpet. That should be tedious, to use one of Mr. Wilson’s easy vocabulary words.
Latin was as much as can be expected in thirty-five minutes. Toner developed a theory that Garrett and I went to the cafeteria to make out or something. I know that’s one that we’ll be hearing about for awhile. He ended up going to the library. Mr. Julius came back today. He’s been sick for a few days. We did review of relative pronouns and translation of the worksheet that we barely did while the sub was here. He wasn’t at all mad that we got nothing done. Good guy, Mr. Julius.
And now I’m here. Quite the interesting day, wasn’t it? We get a long weekend on account of MLK day, observed. Eh, I’m going to be bored. I’m out of here. ‘Bye.
January 13, 2007
In less than twenty-four hours, Fuzz will be home. I’m so happy, but I got some really bad news. Fuzz and his mom are staying at a homeless shelter! It’s only until they get the house, but still! The one good thing that comes out of that is that it’s a guarantee he’s coming home, because Mrs. Dennis can’t get into the shelter without him. I hope it’s not for too long. If there’s one guy that doesn’t deserve that, it’s Fuzz.
I’m talking to Anne about Amy’s birthday party. It’s this coming Friday. Anne’s a bit nervous. I can sort of see why. I was, too, truth be told. I got some of the best friends a person can get out of that party, but I was kind of nervous because I didn’t know the Claugies that well yet. Well, I knew Fuzz, sort of. Ha, I remember how we met. The first thing I ever said to Fuzz was, “Cookie?”, because I was offering them around.
The first thing Fuzz said to me was, “No thanks. I don’t like chocolate.”
At that party, I ate all the orange M&M’s and he ate all the red ones. Amy ate the greens. We played foosball and eventually ended up on the couch together watching Next, that really dumb MTV show. I slept over at Amy’s that night. Man, we had fun.
I was just describing my odd dream of a couple nights ago to Anne. It had to do with me driving. I was driving down the road (with Dad in the passenger’s seat) and there was a blue car right in front of us but a little ahead. The driver was none other than Luis. For some reason we were trying to follow him. We went down the road and there was a toll booth right ahead of us. They let him through, but for some reason they wouldn’t let me through. I think it was because it was the toll booth into Canada and I only had American money, or the other way around. Either way, I lost him and I was a bit pissed off. The first thing I thought when I woke up was, “Oh boy. He’s starting to walk in my dreams again.” Ugh. I have issues or something. The creepy thing was that there was a blue Volvo exactly like the one I saw in the dream in front of us on the way to school.
I had a minor fight with Michael today on the way back from Jimmy John’s. I asked him if it was Saturday, and he said it was. “Yes!” I cheered. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“Fuzz gets back tomorrow,” I explained.
Michael made an exasperated noise. “You’re gonna be going back to hanging out with that clown again?”
I was stung. Fuzz is not a clown! We talked about it on the way home. He said that Fuzz never seemed quite right and he probably had AIDS or something now that he was coming from Chicago. I told him that Fuzz had been living with his rich aunt in Chicago, not the projects. We somehow got to the reason they had been evicted. He said that his mom had probably had her head up her ass and had started that fire.
I just wanted to kill him. The way it’s always been is, an insult on my friend is an insult on me. Especially on Fuzz. He was real smug, judging a guy and a family he’s never even met. He’s so full of himself. Anyone who isn’t exactly like him has “problems”.
Whatever. I’m going to go.
January 14, 2007
Well, Fuzz is home (I’m guessing), but we haven’t seen him yet. Amy and I decided that we’re going to go to the mall tomorrow and all hang out. That should be good. I’ve never been to the mall with friends before. Usually I have to go with Mom or something. I don’t want to seem like I’m insecure, but it’s not my favorite thing to be seen in public with my mommy. Dad’s okay, but I don’t like going with Mom.
This morning I woke up at about six-thirty and I couldn’t sleep. I was listening to the radio for about two hours, because it was the top one hundred songs in the country, and they had some good stuff. I think I drifted off, because before I knew it, Mom was waking me up for church. That was a real bummer. I need to get more sleep. Well, tomorrow is MLK day, so I should be able to sleep then. Why do I like Dr. Martin Luther King? He gave me a day to sleep in. The best answer of all.
Dad and I went driving today. We went out to Dexter today and then on the highway. I broke eighty today. It was on purpose. Dad was telling me to pass, so I tried to get past eighty. That’s the fastest I’ve ever gone. I don’t actually like highway driving that much. There’s really not much to it, you just kind of drive in a straight line and follow weird signs. I prefer city driving way more. There are more sights to look at.
Well, there’s not much else to say. I’m getting out of here. ‘Bye.
January 15, 2007
I just had the best day in the world. I saw Fuzz for the first time in seven months. We went to the mall as planned at about one. Well, first I woke up and took a shower (after making pancakes for everyone). While I was in the shower, Amy called me. I called her back and she told me to get to the mall, because they were picking up Fuzz right then.
I finished getting ready and got a ride to the mall. Amy called me while I was waiting and said that they would be there soon. So, therefore, I stood at the front of the mall waiting and going freaking insano. Finally, right when I thought I was going to go nuts, Amy stepped out the right passenger’s side of a car that had just pulled up. Fuzz stepped out of the left, a huge smile on his face.
An unearthly screech came out of me. “Fuzz!” I pretty much screamed, rushing over to him like an idiot. We hugged for a long time tightly. I heard a bunch of guys laughing, but for once I didn’t care. They were of the stupid-ghetto variety, anyway. “You are never leaving again!” I said, nearly crying, my voice muffled by his big coat.
“No, I’m here for good now,” he answered me, almost in tears himself.
We sort of group hugged, then went into the mall. It was so much fun. We did pretty much everything. Once I get my license, we are going to the mall a lot more. We did a funny group photo of us in one of those photo booth things. That was fun, especially since it was only meant for two people. Then we went and looked around the stores. They kept bringing up stuff that they thought would look “hot” on me. I not-so-respectfully disagreed. They got me into one sweater, but it wasn’t so good on me. It’s so good to have Fuzz back. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until he was back.
January 18, 2007
Okay, quite a lot has happened in the last three days. First, our power went out because of a killer ice storm that hit Michigan. We’ve been out of power since the sixteenth. It’s been, well, cold. The heat went with the power. I haven’t been this warm in days.
Next. Amy got appendicitis! She went to the ER yesterday. I was really worried, but she’s going to be okay from what she tells me. They might not even have to take it out. She wants me to tell the Fairy March that she’s in the hospital. I’ve never approached the dude in my life, but hey. I’ll give it a shot. He can’t be horrible, because Amy fell in love with him, right? I’m going to tell him tomorrow. He’s the one person I missed out when I was screaming it coast to coast that Amy went to the hospital.
I did my debate today. We actually did okay for the group that had to go first. And, on the bright side, no more speeches! I can go straight into Western Civ. now. I won’t miss it, although I think I’m going to miss Mr. Fox. Funny, since I remember writing on the first day that he was the most sinfully boring person I had ever met in all my born days. Sure, he’s a little dull, but he’s a cool guy. He’s taught me a lot about the power of the media lately. I’m never going to believe the media again. Seriously.
Yesterday, I did my band final. Well, half of it anyway. The scale test. It actually wasn’t bad. I got totally blindsided, because I thought that Zach was going, so I was all wishing him good luck and all that and he looks at me and says, “I’m not playing today.” Then, I hear Mr. Roberts say, “Okay, Claire, you’re next.” I was totally shaking, but I did it. Of course, he did slur-two-tounge-two, which is an awful pattern and I’m horrible at it. I couldn’t believe I did as well as I did.
After that, I went to Latin, which is usually the best hour of the day. We were doing pronouns and interrogative adjectives. I have no idea how we got on the subject, but somehow we were talking about being married or getting married or something, me, Garrett, and Toner, as usual. During the conversation, Garrett came almost out of nowhere with, “He wants you to marry him.” He nodded at Toner.
I stared at Garrett. So it’s not just me, then? I wanted to ask. “He’s smiling!” Garrett declared. I guess it’s not just me. “He is secretly crushing on you big time,” he told me later. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it,” I said to that, just to shut Garrett up. I know it’s true, though. Something tells me that he knows Garrett’s the one I’m really after.
I told them yesterday that Fuzz was back, just to see what they would say to me having a friend named Fuzz. “Who’s Fuzz?” asked Garrett.
“My boyfriend,” I answered, completely joking.
Garrett fixed me with a stare. “Boyfriend, huh?” he said. He looked from side to side in a shifty fashion. “Does Michael know about this?”
I had to roll my eyes and assure them that I was joking. “I would never date Fuzz,” I said. “He’s my friend.”
Interestingly enough, now I know for sure how Toner feels. He’s got no shot, but I’m quite flattered. I decided that unless he tells me himself, I’m going to pretend like Garrett didn’t say a thing (although it is obvious, as he pointed out today).
Since finals are soon, I think I’m going to go do my packets or some such thing. ‘Bye.
January 20, 2007
Well, it’s another Saturday here in Ann Arbor. I finished my band final yesterday, with the arpeggios. If I say so myself, I did pretty good. And, as Toner asked me, I really do feel better now that one of my finals is out of the way. I owe Mr. Fox my life, because now I’m not as nervous performing in front of people.
Amy’s birthday party was last night. It was actually pretty fun. Also, it was nearly a whole new set of people this year. Last year it was mostly guys. This year it was all girls except for Luke and Cam. I got to see Amy’s other friends this time around. I really don’t know what to make of them. They’re not bad people, but they’re very... sexually immersed. They talked about sex for like an hour, so I got the hell out of there and talked with Cam, Anne, Christy, Luke, and Karen. I’m actually kind of glad that I have some Christian friends this year. I wonder what would happen to me if I didn’t.
In other news, Aunt Moe is coming over today. She’s going to help our grandparents move into their new condo. This is going to sound awful, but I’m kind of glad they’re leaving. I want my bathroom back. Also, I like not having any adults around after school. Makes me feel like I’m at least kind of on my own, although it’s an illusion.
Anyway, I’m glad she’s coming over. She and Uncle Mike are so cool and it really sucks that Uncle Mike couldn’t make it. I know for sure that he’s Michael’s favorite uncle (with them both being Michael Beaulieu and all). One day a few summers ago, Michael told me that I have to name a son of mine Michael, too. Truth be told, I had made that plan myself when I was about seven or so. My first son is going to be named Michael, and my husband can go to hell if he doesn’t like it.
Finals start for us on Tuesday. This year, they changed up the whole schedule. On Tuesday, we only have our first hour final then all the rest of our classes, thirty-five minutes each. The next day it’s second and third hours, then the next day fourth and fifth, and so on. I say it’s retarded that they would separate first hour, not seventh hour, since everyone has a first hour but not everyone has a seventh hour.
I got all my math packets done. Mr. Kim gave us three. Three! One for normal math, one for compass constructions, and one for proofs. Christy and I took turns complaining about it on Friday. I’m going to do the extra credit, too, because it turns out that I have an A-, and that doesn’t cut it lately.
My grades are actually going to be pretty good this semester. I’m going to have an A in English, Geometry (hopefully), band (also hopefully), and Latin, maybe. Mr. Julius might bump me up to an A- from my current B+ if he decides I’ve improved. Well, I got 105% on my noun endings F.L.A.I., so maybe. I told Mr. Julius that if he’s ever in the neighborhood, ask Mr. Vogel to tell the story about how I wouldn’t learn my noun endings. It’s amazing I got out of that class with a B.
I don’t know what to do. Saturdays are boring.
January 21, 2007
Today is Amy’s birthday. She’s sixteen and luckier than I. I sent her the compulsory birthday IM message. I’m not really sure if I should call her, because of what happened with us last night.
We got into kind of a bad fight. It started out really stupid. We were online and she was idle, so I didn’t IM her. When she came back she asked why I hadn’t IMed her, and I told her why. Then (and I was totally joking around), I added, “No, I straight-up have something against you.”
I couldn’t believe what she typed back. “No, but you like Cam better.”
And that set it off. She wouldn’t believe me that I like her more, she being my best friend and all that. It was stupid! She got so mad. One of the questions she threw at me was the ever-present, “Why can’t we ever hang out with my friends?” I gave her the truth, that I just don’t feel comfortable around them and at least she feels comfortable around mine. Now, Amy took that all wrong. She took it as me judging her friends or saying that there was something wrong with them. Oi, it was bad.
I really don’t know when it ended. In the end, I had to give her the real answer, which is that I’m really bad at being social. I asked her if she remembered what I was like in the beginning of our freshmen year together. She said she really didn’t, so I filled her in.
I was so quiet. If no one talked to me, I wouldn’t talk to them. Tappan messed me up, because it made me think that all people in my age group were total assholes, with the exception of Cam. Then I had to reveal the real truth, and one of my biggest secrets, that I chose to change. And why I chose to change.
It was right about December, and Luis had just left. Somehow, I came to the conclusion that if I couldn’t make him care enough to stay with me, then there was obviously something very wrong with me. So, I changed. I became the epitome of the loudmouth freshman and talked to just about any person that had the power of speech. I laughed too loud with my friends and pretty much became the person I am today.
So, I revealed my biggest secret to Amy. I’m not as great with people as everyone thinks I am. I changed because I was really sad. I think the fight ended when I said that having Cam as my best friend would be worse than having Toner as my best friend. Amy said that maybe he would change for me as I did for Luis. I said that I would feel sorry for him if I was his Luis, although somehow I think I’m on the fast track to there.
In the end we cut a deal. Lunch with her friends, once a month. I knew that it was a fair deal, and more towards my side. I think I’m going to be okay with that. I just know that once Fuzz gets here for good, we’re going to be okay. It occurred to me that this must be what it’s like to be married. In the end, you have to come up with a compromise.
Today, I was really busy. I actually did some of Mr. Kim’s extra credit assignment in the basement, since Aunt Moe is now occupying my room. It’s... kind of a lot. Half the stuff I couldn’t even remember. I had to kind of figure it out all on my own or looking at the glossary. It reminds me why I hate math so much. Geometry is okay, for math at least, but I will always hate any kind of math.
Maybe I’ll go do some more, soon.
January 22, 2007
Finals start tomorrow, at least the first hour one does. I think I’m going to be okay, overall. Last year I was actually nervous, (plus I got a C- so that works out) but this year I’m fine. I wish I were doing English and Geometry on the same day. The schedule is stupid this year.
My day was actually not the best. Dad woke me up at six-fifteen and pain instantly gripped me. It was a really bad stomach ache, on my lower belly. I got up, almost doubled over with pain, and got into the shower. I did not feel good. Once I got out, I figured it was just gas so I went on like normal. But once I got downstairs, I had to lay down. Then (embarrassingly enough), the diarrhea started.
Mom let me stay home and rest on the couch. I read Ender’s Shadow and tried not to go to sleep. My contacts were already in. I did drop off at about nine and woke up at quarter to ten. I ended up going to school. I will always want to go to school. Most of all, I didn’t want to miss band. We have to go to band on the day of fifth hour final, which is stupid. We had fun, even though I felt like crap, no pun intended.
Mr. Julius gave us a sort of free day today. He said to do whatever we thought was productive, study or do otherwise. I didn’t, actually, because I didn’t feel so good. I talked to two freshmen who came from Tappan. For Tappan types, they were really nice. They said they had a hard time with Latin. I said I could help them anytime, which is the least I can do for my Tappan kin. I was feeling better by the end of sixth hour.
After that, I went home and practiced with my accompanist. She’s really nice. Her name is Susan Wagner. Nicest lady in the world. Very positive. I did okay, I guess. I need work on my rhythms. Afterwards, we were talking about her dog, Gizmo, and how he’s afraid of big cases. “Like tuba players,” Susan said. “For example, do you know Michael Toner?”
I howled with laughter. “I love him,” I said.
She went off on a thing about how his musicianship is so good and he’s so amazing. According to her, she’s just about in love with Toner.
“He’s my freshman,” I said proudly.
“Oh? Do sophomores sponsor freshmen?”
I grinned sheepishly. “Unofficially.”
I’ve come to an interesting conclusion. Toner is always one of those people that is pretty much universally loved by adults, but kids will almost always hate him for how successful he is at everything. In fact, I think I’m one of the only people in that Latin class that’s shown him any kind of kindness at all. Garrett doesn’t even like him all that much.
Okay, studying time. ‘Bye.
January 23, 2007
One final down, four to go. I’m feeling a lot better today, fortunately. At least I’m not spewing from any end. Okay, yeah, that was gross. Today was actually okay, for the start of finals.
The test was actually hard. Well, medium-hard. Nothing I couldn’t handle, but it was a lot. I finally finished the damn extra credit last night. Christy made a huge joke with Mr. Kim about how I had gotten sick right after I did the extra credit, so it was therefore his fault. In fact, the first thing Mr. Kim said to me when I walked in the door was, “Did so much extra credit you got sick, huh?”
I nodded, grinning impishly. “Yeah, Mr. Kim. Your extra credit made me physically ill.” He chuckled.
About halfway through the final (during a part of the test with the distance formula, incidentally), something odd happened. This huge wave of nausea just swept over me. I had to close my eyes and stop doing Geometry for a second. I knew I had to finish the final before going to the nurse, but I was sure I was about to hurl all over my Geometry final. Then I thought, “Hey! I can’t throw up! I haven’t eaten anything.” One of the few cases where not eating breakfast saved my life.
We had shortened classes for the rest of the day. In English, we watched the end of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and got our binders checked. I was a little disappointed with my grade. I got 83%. But, as I was saying to Nick, I would have gone down to 90% if I had gotten zero on it, so I still have an A. It was because I had forgotten my study guides. Paul was outright pissed at his grade. 90%. Go figure.
He actually got into a thing with Mr. Wilson about it. He got it back and looked at his grade. He got ticked. He went off on a rant about how there was absolutely nothing wrong or incomplete about his binder. Mr. Wilson took him into the hall and I heard him say, “If you want to talk to me, talk to me, not them.” “Them” being Nick and myself.
We watched them go at it out in the hall. “Mr. Wilson probably thinks Paul’s such a rebel now,” I muttered to Nick, who laughed.
As I watched them discuss, I realized for the first time that Paul is actually pretty flawed. He’s not really the good student who gets good grades that a lot of teachers think he is. I have to say, he dislikes some weird teachers for some weird reasons. He outright hates Wilson. I don’t know why. I happen to think Mr. Wilson’s pretty great. He’s a hard grader, but Michael was right about him. He’s a good guy and a better teacher. I just hope he doesn’t judge me or anything for being friends with Paul and Nick, because I don’t think like they do.
The last day of Speech was fun. Mr. Fox split us up into a boys’ side and a girls’ side, and we played a game. His final is tomorrow, but I think I’ll do okay. I’ve got communication down, even though those were the days I used to talk to Hurley during Speech. I’m going to miss Speech. It was fun, even though it was annoying at times. Mr. Fox is my third-wisest teacher and he actually has something to give. I’m going to miss Lisa, Giancarlos, Gwen, and all the rest of my Speech friends. Ah, required classes.
In Earth Science we worked on review questions. Mr. Drake has a pretty cool system. We do all the questions for fifty points and we can use whatever we write on the test. I love Mr. Drake. Today I worked with Samantha and Arthur, who both crack me up.
“Okay,” Samantha said. “What’s a benchmark?”
“A mark on a bench!” I said, cracking up (I could not stop laughing today for some reason).
Mr. Drake walked by and gave me a thumbs-up. “Good answer,” he said sarcastically.
“So, Mr. Drake, if I put a line on that chair, would it be a benchmark?” I asked.
“No, of course not,” he answered. “That’s a chair, not a bench.”
In band we played “The Saint and the City”. Roberts sent the low brass out to work with MacArthur. The lower trumpets almost got into trouble again today (no surprise). Part of me wonders if we were that stupid. The sad part is that most of them are sophomores, all save Peter Dalack. I think he’s okay with Ashley, Blake, Caleb, and I these days, because we’re actually good trumpet players and we pay attention, since he split us up.
We did nothing in Latin. Garrett, Toner, and I talked to Mr. Julius. He was telling us about how his brother and his son wrote books. I was really impressed, since his son Patrick is younger than David. Mr. Julius is very interesting. One of the reasons I really like him is that he speaks to you as an equal, not as a stupid high schooler. I think that he would be the first teacher I would go to if I was in some kind of school-related trouble. Hell, I have respect for any teacher who has to teach Toner. Smart kid, but he has some immaturity to grow out of.
Our trumpet quartet practiced after school. We’re doing really good. I like those guys a lot and they’re really fun. Sometimes it feels like I don’t really belong with them, since they bonded while I was being last chair. I never noticed before this year (stupidly, since I’ve known the guy for almost three and a half years), but Blake is really a genuinely nice guy. Our only problem, as Ashley was telling me, is that we stop to correct a mistake and end up talking about something totally different for a long time.
I’ve been studying like crazy for hours. This can’t be healthy. I’ve got to stop stressing out, because these tests aren’t all that hard for me. ‘Bye.
January 24, 2007
Three down, two to go. It’s about two right now and I’m burnt out. Last year, the thing with the Walrus kind of put finals in the background, but now I’m single and stressed out. Today it was English and Speech.
English was actually really easy. I was prepared for something really hard. I swear, Mr. Wilson didn’t take it all that seriously either. For five or six of his questions, the final answer was a joke. For example:
What is Tedious?
a. new
b. exciting
c. redundant and tiresome
d. to tie in a knot
e. an evil teddy bear
Half the questions were like that. It was great. I was cracking up for a lot of the exam. Mr. Wilson is a funny guy. This was another one.
The best part of this class is:
a. Mr. Wilson’s dazzling smile
b. Mr. Wilson’s witty personality
c. Mr. Wilson is so suave
d. It is half over
e. All of the above just because I want credit for this question
I picked E. Better safe than sorry, as they say. I’m sure Paul picked D. I actually think I did pretty good. And, for the record, Mr. Wilson is not suave. We were done in about forty-five minutes and we just talked for the rest of the hour. Man, I’m glad I got the class I got.
Then it was Speech. It was actually a fun last class. I gave everyone a hug. We took the communication test, which was easy. Then Mr. Fox dropped the bomb. We had to make a last speech. Mr. Fox made us get onstage and told us to talk for a minute about whatever topic he gave us. He made me do a speech about getting over stage fright (predictably).
It was actually kind of nerve-racking. I said that the way you get over stage fright was to find a really mean teacher that keeps putting you in front of audiences and to make a perfect ass of yourself. Mr. Fox laughed. I kept going and made fun of Mr. Fox’s bookwork and everything, then got off the stage. It was fun, kind of. Mr. Fox pretty much gave everybody a topic related to how he knows them. I’m really going to miss Mr. Fox. I owe that guy a lot.
So, finals are over for the day. Tomorrow I’ve got Earth Science, which will be my hardest final. After that is band, which I’ve already done, so he’ll probably just rehearse us for two hours and fifteen minutes. Two hours and fifteen minutes with Mr. Roberts. Joy. I know we’re going to get in trouble.
Oh! How could I have forgotten this? Amy might be moving away to Washington D.C.! The place where her dad works is laying off an insane number of jobs, so he applied for a job out in Washington D.C. (insanely far away). I’m really hoping Mr. Holler doesn’t get that job. Amy belongs with us. If she leaves, who do I have? No one else knows my secrets.
So, on that note, I’m out of here.
January 25, 2006
Only one last final to do, and I’m done studying for the most part. The last final is Latin and I think I’ll do good on that. Last night was really hard for me. I did a last minute scramble to finish Mr. Drake’s review questions and burned myself out. Interestingly enough, it took me awhile to get to sleep last night.
Today was actually not easy, either. It was fourth and fifth hours today, which means it was Mr. Drake’s Final From Hell. It was exactly out of my worst nightmare. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but it would have been a hell of a lot worse if I hadn’t studied. It was just... a lot. It was like seven pages front and back with questions that all required some sort of thought process. I was the first done (I have no idea how), but it wasn’t easy. There were more than two hundred questions, so we had to go get another scantron. The whole time Mr. Drake just sat there and graded while we took his murderous test. I hardly remember it. I just remember that it was boring and I wanted it done. On the way to the pencil sharpener, I passed Hurley. We exchanged “Damn! This is hard!” looks. He mimed choking himself. I nodded and kept working.
Then it was two hours and fifteen minutes with the band. We got to go out to the uniform room with MacArthur for about an hour. That was... quite interesting. Somehow we got him off on a huge tangent about Aida, which is “beautiful” in his words. I had to force myself not to look at anyone else, because I knew I would lose it fast if I did.
Oh, and Cam highlighted my day. People had been showing up late to band and, needless to say, Roberts was PO’d. After a short, unfriendly lecture we started playing. Someone else showed up late and he gave a more specific and even less friendly lecture. Then suddenly we hear a large crash from the percussion section. Noticing everyone else was standing up, I thought, “Oh, crap. That’s Cam.” Apparently he was running and ran straight into an open case, doing a perfect faceplant in front of Concert Band. I think it’s Cam’s greatest moment to date.
Tomorrow, after finals are done, I’m going to go see a movie with those guys. It should be fun. We’re probably going to go see Epic Movie. Honestly, I doubt it has a plot, because usually they spend so much time making fun of movies that they forget to write a story to go with it.
January 26, 2007
Finals are all over! I am happier than I ever have been about this. The tests were hard this year. I think I’m getting sick, though. I feel all chilly and I have this huge headache. Dad said I had a fever. Everyone else is over at the condo unpacking.
I just got back from the movie with Cam, Anne, Karen, Christy, and a friend of Christy’s that went to Tappan. Hopefully I can sort of keep this from Amy, because she would be really hurt if she found out that we all went to the movies without her. I mean, she’s already accusing me of liking Cam more.
I realized today, I really don’t. Cam was acting like a freaking six-year-old during the movies. Every single time he laughed it was too loud and it was at the dumbest things. Quite frankly, I was embarrassed to be with him. It was especially bad because Matt Stern and his friends were in the same movie as us. They know me. You know, this is the real reason that I’m not all that popular. I won’t ditch Cam. I know that Matt probably won’t judge, since he already knows me, but Cam’s an embarrassing guy.
Today feels like a Saturday or something. We got out at ten, so that’s probably why. My last final was Latin. It was actually kind of hard. Mr. Julius’s sight passage was the worst. I already knew the other two stories. They were the passages that we were supposed to be translating while we were talking or something. Good thing we actually did get to translate at a few points in the semester, otherwise all three of us would have failed.
I might go lay down or something, because I’m really not feeling all that great.
January 28, 2007
I’m here alone, which is an interesting change. Our grandparents moved out to their own place. Aunt Mo left this morning. Dad and Michael went to Purdue, a college that’s looking at Michael. Mom and David went shopping for shoes. Therefore, I am here all alone. Hey, there are good parts. I can listen to explicit music without having to turn down the parts with the swear words.
I feel a lot better. Maybe it was that twenty-four hour flu thing. Dad thought it might be the stress of finals, because stress does something to your immune system. I was supposed to be practicing with the quartet today, but Ashley told me over the phone that she can’t get ahold of Caleb or Blake, so she’s going to call me tomorrow.
Last night, over an IM conversation, I told Amy something that I vowed never to tell anyone. She was kind of upset, because she really doesn’t want to move away. Yeah, join the club. We have jackets. I don’t know what I would do if she moved. We got on another subject somehow, and we were talking about whether Anne could kick my ass or not. I said she couldn’t, and that she hasn’t once beaten me. It slipped out. “Have you two gone at it?” asked Amy. I realized what I had done.
“Crap,” I typed. “I never told you this, did I?”
I told her my whole karate history (after preempting it with “Do NOT tell this around.”). I told her the truth, that I went to black belt and that I had gotten it in November of ninth grade. Also, that I hadn’t even quit until around early May. In a way, I’m glad I told her. I never felt right about dodging the truth when she used to bring it up. Sure, it’s embarrassing as hell, but that is one of my deepest, darkest secrets.
“Except that I was nearly obsessed with Luis,” I added.
“Nearly?” she typed back. “You cried at ‘You’re Beautiful’!”
Amy now has everything on me. Everything. I can’t think of one thing I haven’t told Amy now. Okay, maybe the stuff with Alex and Zach, but all the other stuff, she knows.
Ha, not to be ADD, but I found out that my grandfather’s middle name is Alexander. Actually, he told me that his father used to spell it the French way, Alexandre. His full name is Ernest Alexandre Beaulieu, Junior. Very French, indeed. Still, I wish I had ended up with the Irish last name, McGee. People can actually say that. Dad told me I could change it, but I don’t want it to seem like I’m giving the Beaulieus the shaft. He told me that he had thought about changing his name, because it’s a lot cooler to be Danny McGee than Danny Beaulieu. (Also, he hated my grandfather for a long time- bad relationships and a bunch of bad stuff.)
Ever since my grandparents came to live with us, I’ve found out tons of stuff about my dad’s side of the family. My great-grandfather on the French side was a translator in World War One. My great-great-great uncle was a mystical healer type, whose name was Paul (I got a kick out of that). On the Irish side, my great-great grandfather came from Ireland and owned six bars in Philadelphia, got married, and died in the flu pandemic. My great-great grandmother went to the asylum for depression. Man, our family is weird. Interesting, but weird.
I think I’m going to go practice or something. ‘Bye.
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