I was sitting doing a writing assignment that had to be about a time when I learned something new or grew as a person. It was kind of hard since I didn’t like people and never bothered to associate myself with them. It had to be in the form of an essay. I hated essays. Long, dreadful sentences on topics I couldn’t care less about. I bet someone was writing about when they learned how to ride a bike or when they realized that they were one day going to be an adult and have to provide for themselves. Everyone in my school were mindless fools that got on my nerves by simply existing, but I can’t complain because I probably do the same to them. Plus, we had to read these essays out loud for everyone. I hated hearing about other people’s problems. I don’t need to constantly learn about the past and all the mistakes that dwell in it. Life sucks, people are mean, and no one is ever truly happy. Tell me something I don’t know.
So here I was scribbling down words I barely put thought into, and before I could finish my introduction my pencil snapped in half. I guess my grip was too strong from pressing too hard onto the paper in hopes of writing faster. I didn’t have an extra one, and my teacher had no pencil sharper in the classroom. I know it’s irresponsible of me to not carry around another pencil, but I’m an emotionally unstable teenager, and I have too many problems in my life to take time out of my day to even consider packing a spare pencil. If anything, it’s the teacher’s fault for not having a pencil sharpener. It should be a requirement for teachers to have such supplies in a classroom for their students. The school system can be a total letdown sometimes. Correction: all the time.
After spending a good ten seconds pondering what to do, I turned to Daniel Stone to ask him for a pencil. Daniel was my school’s quarterback. He may not be the brightest of the bunch but for some reason everyone else made it seem as if his model hunk looks made up for it. Typical society, always quick to making the luck of looking drop-dead gorgeous a good cover-up for having a peanut sized brain. Unfortunately for most ladies (the ones who basically drool over him), he was taken by Kelly Temple, who was the head cheerleader and was just as idiotic as he was. My three-year-old baby cousin reads better than she does. If she didn’t have breasts the size of mountains she’d be known as the girl who didn’t know what one plus one was. Daniel and Kelly were perfect for each other. They had everything in common: good looks, dead brains, and high reputation. They were the “it” couple.
I think I whispered his name around five times, each said louder after every time, until he finally heard my voice. He literally sat a foot and a half away and was deaf as a doornail. Either that, or he just didn’t care to pay attention to me. No one ever did. I was one of those girls who didn’t really exist. It’s not that I felt invisible and completely untouched by the world. I wasn’t one of those girls who no one ever knew went to their school. I actually felt very visible and completely ignored by the world at the same time. People would look me straight in the eye and bump into me as a joke that they didn’t “see” me when it was obvious that they did.
“Can I help you?” he laughed as if it was some type of inside joke he and his two defensive linemen had (keep in mind that they weren’t all that bright either).
“I broke my pencil; do you have an extra I may borrow?” I asked kindly. It was unusual for me to be nice to the “popular” kids at my school. It was rare for me to be nice to anyone actually, except for my friend Joyce Farrington. Mostly because she became the only person I could tolerate at my school.
“Suuuure,” he elongated with a tone of voice that implied he thought I had some kind of ulterior motive for wanting his pencil. I wanted so badly to wipe the stupid smirk off his face. He looked like one of those big ego guys from pointless reality TV shows who just picked up a girl who everyone thought was impossible to impress. I found it hilarious how an imbecile like him could possibly think I’d want anything to do with him. He wasn’t my type. None of them were. I always thought of guys as a completely different species, you know?
One of his friends whistled like your stereotypical construction worker trying to hit on a hot lady walking by. It was pathetic in my opinion. Women are not dogs. You don’t whistle at them.
“Danny, I think Ms. Robinson is flirting with you,” his other friend said.
“Don’t call me that,” I snapped at him with eyes like daggers.
“Sorry, Fiona but it’s true,” he said using my first name. I really hated my name. My mom’s name is Judy and my sister’s name is Anna. Why am I stuck with Fiona? Hearing it spill out of the mouths of others makes me sick to the core.
“Just give me the danged pencil!” I shouted as I snatched the pencil from Danny’s tightly clenched left hand. They began to laugh and teased me for the rest of the class. It was torture, but then again, everything was torture to me.
Before the bell rang for lunch, Danny slipped me note as he got up. He didn’t even make eye-contact with me. No one seemed to notice the poorly folded lined paper that was shoved into my History textbook. ”You’re cute”, it read. I was puzzled but gathered my things and headed off to lunch.
At lunch, Joyce and I were talking about History and the incident between me, Danny, and his friends. It occurred to me that perhaps this note from Danny could be the start of something new. I didn’t tell Joyce this, but I was about to embark on an exciting adventure.
The next day I wrote Danny a note and shoved it into his textbook while he wasn’t looking, which wasn’t that hard since he spent most of his class time chatting with the rest of the jocks in the classroom. Ever since that day, I kept slipping him, what one would call “love notes,” and he’d actually write some back. This went on for days, weeks even.
One day, he slipped me a note asking if I’d want to go to the movies with him. I figured why not? I mean… I hated movies but I thought it was time to kick it up a notch with Danny. Movies were always stupid. Overly dramatic people who think they’re all that acting out “real-life” situations that end with unrealistic endings. No one is that happy, you know why? It’s all just one big fairy tale waiting to explode in our faces. But, hey! Going on this date gets me free food and a movie ticket while being able to meddle even more with Danny and Kelly’s relationship.
We ended up watching some weird comedy about this guy who was the strangest man alive and always got himself into trouble. Everyone would laugh at him yet think he was “super cool.” Basically, it was terrible. The guy was so dumb and weird and it reminded me so much of Danny that I swear the movie was based on him.
When the movie ended we walked out of the theater only to find Kelly buying tickets for some chick flick with some of her cheerleader friends. They had finished practice early because their coach had personal problems. Personal problems? What happened? Did you break a nail? Turned out I was right. This is what I’m dealing with. I’m surrounded by idiots who think that split ends mean the end of the world and that perspiration means you’re melting.
Anyways, Kelly was not happy to see us together. In fact, she was furious to the point that anyone could mistake her head for a giant red apple mask. If she didn’t care so much about her perfectly intact skin, she’d probably bunch up her face, and then complain about how much it hurt.
“What the heck is this?” she shouted.
“You must be stupid AND blind if you can’t tell that we’re on a date,” I mocked.
“Shut it, Fiona,” she shot.
“Well? Aren’t you going to explain yourself, Danny?” she insisted.
“What’s there to explain? We’re on a date,” he said as if he thought he had done nothing wrong. This made Kelly so mad I could smell smoke steaming from her ears. To this I smiled, I never had so much fun in my entire life.
“So that’s what you’ve been doing? Going on dates while I was at practice? With HER?” she said. She was annoyed with Danny but mostly me because she couldn’t believe he would cheat on a so-called flawless girl like her with a nobody like me.
“At least I’m not an incompetent fool,” I teased.
“What is that supposed to mean? You think you’re cool because you know words? Because you’re not,” she snapped. This girl really thought she was better than me.
“If you can understand even the most rudimentary form of the English language, you will understand this: go away,” I smirked.
I’m pretty sure that was the last straw for her. She went on a rage on her blog and Twitter. All her rants about me made me feel like I actually existed for once. People finally acknowledged my existence and I was no longer painfully invisible.
After a few days of fighting with his girlfriend, Danny made a public announcement over the intercom during second block asking everyone to meet in the cafeteria and to stay there during lunch. Of course, everyone listened to him and was excited to see what it was that he’d called us all for. Even I was excited. Scratch that. I’m never excited. I was merely interested.
I walked into the cafeteria to find him standing on one of the long lunch tables with a bullhorn. He began to make a speech about all the gossip that was going through the air at school. He was addressing all the rumors that pertained to me and him being a “thing” or “item.” It was probably one of the most hilarious moments of my life actually, and I wish I could replay it over and over again. Watching the looks on everyone’s faces? Priceless.
He started off by admitting to cheating on Kelly with me through our love notes and secret dates while she was at cheer practice. He then went on about how, apparently, he was going to dump Kelly anyways. The look on Kelly’s face was pure rich, and I wish someone had taken a photo of it to plaster all over the walls at school. In his mind, Kelly’s “turn” was done and it was time for him to find another girl.
He then turned to me and asked me to be his girlfriend because it was my “turn” to be his. What kind of guy thinks that way? That’s right, the narcissistic imbecile I’ve been so-called flirting with for possibly the past month. Sheesh, his ego was so big a pack of elephants could live in there.
So what did I do? I turned him down in front of the entire student body and faculty. I explained how I did it because I wanted to see how big his ego could get, and boy was I surprised. He got a bit embarrassed, and most people began laughing. I felt a bit bad, but I didn’t care. Not to be mean, but if anyone should be sad it should be me. I was the one who had to tolerate him for over a month.
After lunch was over, I introduced him to my younger sister Anna. Anna was my irritating sister who thought way too much of herself. She was kind of like Kelly except I lived with her, which made her way more annoying. My sister and Danny began dating, and it was probably the most irritating relationship I’ve ever witnessed. I wanted to vomit looking at them. However, I thought it was perfect punishment for them to have to deal with each other’s big ego and always trying to “one-up” each other with who looks best and what-not.
So what did I learn from all of that? Nothing. Nothing important anyway aside from the fact that people are just as mean, stupid, and irritating as I thought they were. My life went back to normal. I was back to being the girl no one cared for and who got pushed in the halls to elicit a laugh. I was okay with that though. All I needed was my notebook, pencil, coffee, and Joyce, so I had someone to share my mischievous adventures with.
By the way, I know this was supposed to be an essay but I don’t like essays, and I don’t like this class. Lecture me all you want tomorrow. I won’t listen. I never do. You know why? Because all you’re going to say is how terrible this paper is, and I really don’t care. It sucks, I know. Tell me something I don’t know.