The Weird Encounter That I Like, But Still Is Weird
I dumped it. There’s many things you can dump; there’s many places where you can dump these things. You just pile them in a little plastic bag and throw them on somebody else’s shoulders. I dumped my life. On you. Enjoy.
. . .
Crisp August days deserve a hand of applause, thank you very much. To those who have ridden their bike after the most boring day of school, you know what I mean. The wind ruffling my blazing red hair up, my long fingers pressed tightly against the bars. To finally get my butt out of that plastic seat, (which by the way, will probably have my butt permitly printed on it by the end of the month), makes me want to smile. Which, by the way, I am.
No, I might not look very sophisticated riding a rusty, old bike. And no, the ripped-up jean shorts and worn-out chucks don’t really add a feminine, chick look. But it’s me. And I’m me.
I swore under my breath as a huge cargo truck pulled up behind me. The engine roared, ‘beware, monster!’ Ahhhh! Hehe. I switched lanes, and let the truck go. That’s one bad thing about riding a seven year old bike on the streets of LA, you can get squished by many different vehicles by many different ways. Ouch.
I hurried past a yellow light….and made it. So, some fourteen year old is riding her bike home, wonderful. I know. It’s not very interesting, which I’m aware of. And I always have been. That’s one thing I hate about my life, everything is so… expected. Like a movie I’m just watching again and again.
But I’m quite an odd person. A death wouldn’t be too unexpected for me even. I’m the kind of person who dares you to do dumb stuff, and you don’t do it, so I do. C.R.A.Z.Y. I even admit it myself.
Sometimes I wish I’d just die already. Wow, that sounds really emo. But it’s the truth. Here’s a clip of my life: school, work, homework, sleep. It doesn’t get better then that! But the real truth is that I just want something exciting to happen, you know? It doesn’t even have to be good, just different!
I looked forward, and paced myself evenly. Though death sounded nice, I still had quite a life in front of me. I think.
A strong, delicious smell distracted me from being careful on the road. It was the snack stands. Oh, the snack stands. Sweet soft drinks, salty pretzels, steamy hotdogs. My mouth began to water. I blocked the pain out. If I would remember, I’d bring a few dollars with me, but I usually forget most small things like that. Or all things.
I finally broke free from all the snack stands and kept peddling north. After a while I swung to the left.
I feel so cliché at this moment for saying this, but nothing can stop me. Or at least just now, at this moment. My friends call me ridiculously brave. I call myself a risk-taker. Except in this life, there are no risks to take.
Nothing can stop me, but there’s nothing usually there to stop me anyway.
I was wrong. A red light could stop me. Sigh. Red lights were like mothers, interrupted and ruined everything. No offence to mothers. Well, I suppose I already offended. But don’t get me wrong, mother’s can be helpful, just in exclusive situations. Like paying the rent.
The red lights in LA take forever. Ugh
I turned my head for the first time somewhere else besides forward. A Mitsubishi, new, was sitting next to me, (can cars sit?). Sorry - I’m not very good with cars. My most advanced car terminology is horse power, new, and clean.
The woman inside the Mitsubishi was young, in her twenties. And blonde. She was thinner then me, and trust me, I’m thin. But that’s only because I have a good digestive system. Her face was painted with makeup. To tell you the truth, it made her look worse.
I bet she could have anything she wanted in her life. Any man. Any house. Any outfit.
Green light. The thought poofed out of my head as fast as I turned right to a smaller road, with less people. You could immediately see the changes in the new area. There were no tourists or businessmen here.
After a few minutes all the buildings, decreased to only family sized houses. It was peaceful, quiet. The part of my day I enjoyed most.
Two children played with a cheap beach ball in front of a small house. I examined them for a few seconds. There was a girl, and a younger boy. I could smell barbecue from the back, possibly a family reunion? Or a birthday party.
The kids were yelling loudly, giggling as they kicked the colorful ball up in the air. They were speaking in Russian - I think. The beach ball gracefully danced in the air, doing spins and turns so fast, no ballerina could out fast it.
It was beautiful against the light blue sky, the burning sun. Crap. I should of brought my camera, it would have been a great picture if I did correct lighting and chose a good frame. I would have chosen a simple frame-I didn’t mention I’m a photographer, or at least trying to be.
Now, you probably expect me to be one of those people who just pick up a pencil and decide they wanted to be an author when they grow up. Or go to the movies for the first time in their life, and already are planning out their acting career.
Well, I am. Art is in my blood. My mom used to be an art teacher when we lived in the suburbs of California. She taught at Roosevelt Middle School, I was only about three or four then. That was when I still had a father. That was when my life was fun. Now it’s just messed up.
When my dad left, my mom and I moved to LA because we had no money. Mom was planning to just stay at Sunny Days, yes that’s the name of the neiborhood we lived in, and try to survive it. The bank took the house from us, and we had no choice but to pack it up and go. Mom opened up the Bender’s Café, and here I am.
There’s details. Plenty of them. But thinking about them doesn’t really help me get a better life, or mom’s. So we forget. And we did. And I think I have. Almost.
I stopped and took out my lime green ipod nano. It was dumb to plug it in when the house was only a few blocks away though. I shoved it back in the little pocket of my rough, off-white book bag, and tossed it over my back.
I continued riding, this time I increased my pace because cars came around every few seconds. A minute passed and I was on full speed, completely unaware of anything around me. I raced passed houses, laughing along the way.
Now this, this was the best part of my day. The part where I can ride my bike as fast I want to, and no one can stop me.
“Gah!”
I was wrong again.
I looked up. I knew I should of kept looking down because now a curse had been cursed upon me for forever and ever, and I knew it. The love curse. Yes, a complete “gah.”
If you’re confused, I just crashed into a really cute guy while riding my bike full speed.
He was tall, and chiseled. He had smooth yellow skin, and dark brown hair hung to his chin. He had long thick lashes, and the most perfect smile I had ever seen. My Romeo. And he must really be something to look at, because I don’t fall for guys easily. In fact, only once before, in fourth grade. His name was Johnny. It didn’t work out.
“Er, I’m so sorry. I was just ugh, um… let’s just say there’s a lot of stuff going on in my head,” I said lamely. He laughed. Oh god, must his laugh be so perfect too?
“It’s okay. Not to be rude, but you’re the third person whose ran into me today. The first accident, well, let’s just say it wasn’t destiny,” he continued fluently, “some drunk guy just happened to be standing right in front of me. Well things like that happen, right? Anyway, the second interruption was quite fascinating actually. A movie star in disguise, I can’t tell you who though. Top secret,” he ended swiftly.
I felt like asking, “And how about the third interruption?”, but I didn’t dare.
I took a moment to digest all the info he just gave me. He was talkative, obviously, friendly, and much luckier then me. Gets bumped into by a drunk guy and a movie star? That’s what I call different.
I hadn’t noticed we were both standing in silence for about three seconds, staring at each other. As I said, a lot of stuff goes on in my head.
“So um, I bet you’re having that kind of day?” I said trying to pull off as a nonchalant question. Really it sounded tense, nervous, and as if a police was examining me to see if I was guilty or not.
“It depends on what you consider ‘that kind of day’,” he muttered. I could see his eyes weren’t wandering off, or any small movement saying, ‘I’m out of here.’ He was still directly staring at me, as if we were having the most interesting conversation of the day, that he couldn’t possibly miss. If you’re wandering, that’s how it’s feeling for me.
“I consider it to be a pretty good day, not peticulary ‘good’, but better then completely nothing, you know? At least something happened,” I explained in my oddish way of explaining things.
“Yeah… so I’m guessing you’ve been having ‘that kind of day’ as well, or at least my opinion of ‘that kind of day’.”
“You’re loosing me,” I said dumbly. He chuckled.
“My name’s Jacob. Jacob Levy.” He moved his hand toward mine. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck. Crap. I must stink. Calm down. He’s just goanna shake my hand. I moved my hand up, and shook his. Jacob’s. His hands were large, but soft and smooth. It was hard to let go.
“I’m Scarlett, freshman at LA High,” I smirked. That one had actually come off as nonchalant. Jacob’s eyes quickly moved from my eyes, toward my whole face. He didn’t look anywhere down once. Good.
I felt pretty confident of how he was feeling about me right now. But what the hell could he be thinking about me? Maybe witty, likeable. Or maybe even pretty. My blazing red hair made me look at least unique, right? And the light brown eyes. I wasn’t fat at least, that’s good.
“Me too, actually you look really familiar. Maybe you’re in one of my classes,” Jacob said. I would have felt hurt because he didn‘t realize I was in one of his classes, but classes at LA High are about forty students each. And besides, I didn’t realize he was in any of mine.
“Yeah, maybe. What classes are you taking?”
“Oh, just a load of stuff. AP American History, French 4, Honors chemistry, but I like Honors English the best. I’m a journalist, you?”
I was completely stunned. This guy was cute and smart? Time to strut my stuff.
“I take a couple of honors, you know the basic, English, History. And I take Spanish 3. But I like photography a lot. I’ve taken classes at this art studio since I was ten,” I bragged.
No, it didn’t sounds as fancy dancy as his classes, but at least it didn’t represent me as some dumbo.
“That’s so cool, photography, eh? What do you like best about it?”
“That you can just click away until you hit the jackpot. In photography if you make a mistake, you delete it. Unfortunately, life isn’t the same.”
“That’s a strange way to look at it. Actually, my philosophy is you can erase mistakes in life. It just takes a lot of effort to do it.”
Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! You can’t just flick your wand and clean up a mess like in Harry Potter. Mistakes are always remembered, except the small ones.
“You obviously don’t agree with me, why?”
“Personal experience,” I muttered. Ugh. Here’s comes the huge silence. Four, five six seconds. Fine, I’ll do it!
“Er, anyway, do you play any sports?” That was the worst thing I could of said. Really.
He laughed softly from my completely out of the blue question. “Yeah I do, soccer, but just on the school team. Er, my old school team. I’m goanna try out for the high school team next week or something. I play center mid. And you?”
“Crosscountry, I was the second fastest person on the team,” I bragged again.
“Do you think you could beat me at a race?”
“Depends, I don’t know how fast you are. But being center mid on a soccer team probably means you’re pretty fast. Like the quarterback of football,” I joked.
“Actually people call point guard like the quarterback of football”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. By the way, just to get you straight, I’m not a very big soccer fan,” I admitted.
“Are you a football fan?”
“Nope.”
“Basketball?”
“Eh…”
“Softball?”
I laughed softly. He grinned. “No, I don’t do sports, just Crosscountry. Except I used to do ballet when I was six and seven.”
“I just can not see you doing ballet,” Jacob said.
“I know, I can’t see myself either, so I quit before I could move up to beginner.”
“Move up to beginner? I though beginner was the first level!”
“Yeah, me too. But introductory is the first level. Pretty much meaning I sucked.”
“No, maybe it was just because you were a little kid,” he suggested.
“Whatever, ballet is far down my ‘important’ list.”
“You have an ‘important’ list?” Jacob asked curiously. I had an odd feeling he wanted to be on it.
“Er, yeah… um…”
“Um, hey, I sort of have to go to practice now, but I’ll see you around, Scarlett,” he said.
“Wait, um, do you live around here? I mean, my mom owns this café, maybe I could-”
“Sorry, but I seriously have to go. Really sorry. Bye.”
Jacob rushed off. It looked like he was goanna get fifty lashes are something if he didn’t get to soccer practice on time. I sighed. (I’m a sucker for sighs)
But there’s no way, no, none. He’s definitely taken. You can see it in his eyes, probably why he didn’t look down. I hopped on my bike, and rode the rest of the way home. Is it just me, or does the sky seem so much brighter? Does the burning sun seem more calm and beautiful? Does my life just happen to fade away, in place of a glorious, romantic one in one quick ride home? Does love?
Sorry, sometimes I get just a bit of Romeo and Juliet stuck in my mind, and then it drifts toward my dialogue.
The rest of the ride was lifeless. Boring. I smelled a few more barbecues along the way, and alcohol as well. My bike started bumping up and down as the old, road with cracks came up. Bump. Bump. I hate that road.
A green, wooden sign off the road said I was entering Lake Varuna. And what’s funny is we don’t have one stinking lake in the whole town.
About a block away from the sign was market square.
The café’s connected to a bunch of other stores, Safeway, Starbucks, Hair Cuttery, etcetera. It’s in this small market square. Market square is the main attraction in Lake Varuna. Really. There’s these little ugly trees in front of the stores, which get watered by random old ladies who can’t bear to see such ugly trees about every week. There’s a huge parking lot, which only gets about a fifth filled. A fourth on weekends.
The people that live around here don’t really consider themselves Los Angeles residents. They’re like separate, in their own little island. It gets annoying, because I love LA, but I live with it.
I chained my bike to the nearest rail and prayed no one would steal it. This is the safest area you can get around LA, so I’m positive no one will. And it has a lock. I entered Bender’s Café.
I immediately smelled a whole mix of delicious scents. Crisp, sweet muffins were coming hot of the rod, warm thick cocoa poured in big, white mugs. This made the snack stands in the city look like a big pile of trash. I couldn’t wait to start my feast.
I walked up to the bar, and laughed as I saw mom trying to wash three dishes at one time. We haven’t exactly gotten a dish washer yet.
The café’s completely modern, and quite leafy. It looks sort of like Starbucks, except green. The wooden floor creaks, by the way, and there’s these little green coffee tables, about a dozen of them all around the café. Their metal, and let me tell you, you’re butt will be quite numb after you sit on them for over two minutes.
I chose the two comfy chairs with green flowers all over, (mom made me choose that pattern). But I wouldn’t care if Winnie the pooh, was on those chairs, I just needed something more comfortable then school chairs.
There’s also these cool green lights hanging from the ceiling, and by the way, the café’s painted green. At least all the stuff is different shades, right? I can immediately pick out lime green, sea green, electric green, and dark green.
My mom picks out all the designs, so don’t blame me. I took a seat on the high wooden stools. The only thing I like about the café, (besides the yummy ice cream), is the bar. I hate sitting awkwardly at a tiny table in Starbucks.
I looked around for a bit. There was an elder man sitting way back, reading The Lake Veruna, our town’s newspaper, and drinking coffee. He was wearing a fisher’s jacket, and old school jeans. He looked nice, if I could choose a grandpa, I’d choose him.
Another member of my family lost, even before I was born! I know my granddad died in a car accident because mom was talking to Aunt Julie about it, but that was years ago. I remember almost nothing she said. Mom doesn’t say anything. She wants to live in the moment. I would like to say I do too, but the past is nice too.
To mom, past is bad. Very bad. Too me, it’s melancholy. Sweet, but depressing. Nice, sometimes.
An Asian teenager, possibly college guy, was sitting with his laptop in front of the window next to the door. He looked like he was going to rip his hair out. That doesn’t really make me very excited about college.
There were a few other people scattered here and there through the café, but they all looked too normal to care about. Sigh. I wonder if people think that about me.
“Hey honey, how was your first day of high school? Meet any guys? Hmm?” my mom asked curiously. She was still washing the dishes. I walked over and got my apron out. I even get my own name tag!
“Er, yeah. But it was-”
“Tell. Me. Everything! When? Where? Why?-”
“Okay, okay!”
As you can see my mom gets involved in my life. Too much. She’s the typical American mom Blonde, skinny, too energetic, and very nosy.
“It was nothing. I just, ran into this guy after school-”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Jacob Levy,” I sighed. She was going to ask me everything. Everything. I should of just said no.
“And do you like this, Jacob?”
I felt so dumb for liking him already, when I don’t even know him, but I do. Sort of. And that’s an understatement.
“Well, he’s okay I guess. But not my type.” That wasn’t exactly a lie, he’s not my type. I usually go for sporty, popular guys. But smart, sporty, popular guys work too.
“Look, can I get something to eat? I’m pretty hungry here.” Finally my mom didn’t interrupt me, I could see she was thinking.
“Kayla, take over will you? I’ll be there in a minute,” my mom said calmly. She opened the pantry and tossed me a bagel.
Kayla Spring’s the only worker, (besides me), mom has hired at Bender’s Café. For the first few years mom tried to run it all by herself, but then I talked her into sense. I was the second worker hired.
And then Kayla came along, which cut my pay check by a fourth. Kayla’s pimply and goes to community college. That’s pretty much her.
Mom headed to the backroom, I followed. I felt like I was going to court, I should hire a lawyer probably. If mom’s interested in this guy, I’ll never see light again. I’ll have to drag my sleeping bag to the backroom.
I sighed. I should at least give her a rough summary, I mean she doesn’t get to talk about boys with me very much lately. Or ever.
I took a seat on the old, purple bean bag and relaxed. After a thirty minute bike ride your legs get a bit numb, or at least for me.
“For one, does this Jacob go to your school?”
I moved uncomfortably around my bean bag. Jeez, one moment she’s dieing of excitement, the next it looks likes she going to kill me.
“Yeah, he does. Anyway, this isn’t any of your business-”
“Is he smart?” She was walking in small circles. Her stilettos clicked against the ceramic floor loudly.
“Well, yeah. It looks like he is, but I’m not sure,” I thumbed around for the correct words. Really what I meant to say was more like this : “He’s the most sophisticated, charming, and smart guy ever.”
“Really? That’s nice, to have a smart boy for a change,” my mom said. What was she talking about? For a change? And what was the ‘to have’ thing.
“Okay, you inspected me. Are you done yet?” I muttered.
“Not even close. How does he look like?” my mom asked. This was going to be the part that took a little more effort to lie about.
“Normal I guess. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, tanned skin, tall. Just fine I suppose,” I said.
“Is he nice?”
“Nooo, I just like him because he has straight A’s in trig,” I joked.
“And may I ask how you met him?”
“I told you, I just crashed into him while riding home. That’s. All.” I moved my hand back and forth my arm. It was warm, and smooth. I relaxed a bit.
“You crashed into him!? How many times have I told you to bike slowly, Scarlett!”
“Many,” I said guiltily, “But we both didn’t get hurt so it doesn’t matter, right?” I asked pleadingly. She licked her lips.
“You’ll be working until the café closes tonight, no additional salary,” my mom decided.
“But, don’t you want to hear about Jacob?” I asked smartly.
“Jacob Levy can wait.” She walked out. So it ended on a bad note. Well, look on the positive side. This conversation didn’t last over two minutes. I tied my rough, green apron in a big knot, and stepped up. I had to work for almost five, long hours. And then the whole night would be just me and homework, and maybe a half an hour chat online with Jenny. Pray for me. And if you’re not religious, well, wish me luck.
. . .
Mom had left me in charge for the last hour because she said she needed to catch up on this book she was reading. Right. At about 7:30 people stopped coming, but I still was chained to the café under mom’s rules, so I just sat and talked to Kayla for a while. So far, I learned Kayla enjoys martial arts, sushi, despises café food, and is a very odd college girl.
“Hey Kay, what’s up?” I asked nonchalantly. She still considers me to be a little kid who shouldn’t be working already. Or if so, shouldn’t get paid. I still consider her to be a weird college teen who has a lot of pimples.
“Scarlett. Hey. How’s middle school?” she smirked.
“Actually high school now, thank you very much,” I replied proudly. I couldn’t help but laugh as I saw Kay’s face go sour.
“Oh, so that must mean you’re starting to think about the colleges you’re goanna go to, right?”
“Universities actually. And all superbly out of your reach.” I said. It sounded a bit more rude that I meant it to be. A thick silence spread through the room for a few, harsh seconds.
“Which ones do you want to go to, in specific?” So she wasn’t going to take the bait. Smart.
“Well, not ivy leagues or anything. But I’d like to go to Academy of Art University, in San Francisco, and maybe-”
“What’ll be your major?” Kay asked smartly. So she thought I didn’t know majors, eh?
“Photography, and possibly Multimedia Communications. And of coarse many other classes. But I’m just a freshman, plenty of time, right?”
“And what if you don’t get in,” she said sourly.
“Then I don’t get it.”
“That’s not a good answer.”
“Well, it’s my answer.”
“Hey, you’re mother finished up early tonight,” she said dumbly.
“Er, yeah. I kind of noticed that already.” Kay freaks me out. A lot.
She laughed. “You don’t get it, I was asking you why she finished up early”. Um, YOU DIDN’T SAY THAT, DID YOU?!?
“Oh. She said she wanted to finish up a book. That’s all.” Kayla sighed and tightened her already very tight bun. She smoothed her green apron out, and smacked her lips. Did I mention she’s a neat freak?
“I wish I could just call it a day because I wanted to finish a book,” Kay said rudely.
“Well, you don’t own this place, do you?” I barked back. Just then a customer came in, two customers. They had heard me yelling. I went to the backroom as Kay flashed a smile at them.
If my mom was here, I don’t know what she would have done to me. Probably take my bike for a week or two. Or three. Or forever. I stared at the clock. Only a few more minutes, then I can bike the hell out of here. But why was I in such a rush? At home, only homework was greeting me. And a nice soft bed, but after the homework.
It reminded me of dinner, first the spinach, then the ice cream. I heard the customers talking to Kayla.
Customer #1 “I think I’ll get a breakfast bagel, what do you think honey?”
Customer #2 “It’s night, Marie! Get a bagel in the morning. How about we get…. Two coffees?”
Customer #1 “No, who drinks coffee at night!?”
Kayla “How about you try our new cappuccinos? They come in three different flavors, cookies & cream, mango, and caramel.”
Customer #2 “How much do they cost? Because I’m not paying a dime over five dollars here” Cheap butt
Customer #1 “Oh Paul, you’re such a cheap butt. Lady, er Ms. White, could you get us two coffees, two breakfast bagels, and two er.. Caramel cappuccinos please?”
Kayla “Of coarse, just one moment please”
Customer #2 “Are you insane? That’s going to cost us over ten dollars Marie-”
Kayla “That’ll be $14. 56”
Customer #1 Opens wallet and gives money to Kayla
Customer #2 Takes all the food
Kayla “Have a great night!”
Door shuts loudly.
I came out of the backroom, Kay was obviously going to tell mom about me hiding out. But who wants to be around a cheap butt and a fat butt? “Hey Kay, I’m going out, k? See you tomorrow”.
I shoved my apron into the drawer, and walked out the door. She didn’t say anything. Right about now, I’m going to announce this was the worst night of the year. I mean, who wants to be working this long? Now I feel mom’s pain.
I jumped on my bike and swerved out of the market. The night was still young, very young. Young enough to finish all my homework before the AM? Possibly. Again I felt the wind against my hair.
I just wanted to disappear. Life wasn’t that good. Jacob Levy makes it better. But truly, death doesn’t seem all that bad. I think I’m going emo. That’s not a good thing. Obviously.
I passed several houses, most of them with their lights on. What’s important in life? Right now, my life? Good grades, friends, family. Family. The thing is, I don’t have one. My mom is. But that’s all I’ve got.
My mom never talks about him. Trust me, I’ve begged, but she doesn’t even do the changing subject thing. She does walks away. There’s no albums anywhere with pictures of him, no recordings, no newspaper clippings. It’s as if life has gone on without him, but not me.
I have no idea who he is. All I know is that he has red hair, like me. I got it from him. I’m not a pathetic little girl that just sits in a toilet and moans about it. I hate it when people feel pity for me. Because they shouldn’t. They should feel pity for my mom. She lost everything the day he left. But she gained some too.
I slowly came to a stop as I reached my garage. I pressed in the code, and went inside. Time for horrible stuff called. Homework. “Hey mom, you up there?,” I yelled from the kitchen. I heard a mutter of response.
I dumped my bag on the floor and started tapping my finger nails on the smooth dinner table. I do that when I don’t know what to do. Homework or chat? Homework or chat? I rolled my eyes, chat obviously.
I logged on to my laptop, and saw a message from Jenny about an hour ago.
PaperandPen: Hey Scarlett, wats up?
PaperandPen: Aw man, you’re not there
PaperandPen: k, i’ll talk 2 u later
Starlett21: Hi Jen, mom made me work till so late 2day
Starlett21: Jen!
PaperandPen: srry, was making a pb&j
Starlett21: so, anything new?
PaperandPen: ben’s listening to his classical music again brb, ill call him
Jenny has been my best friend since we met in Soulthwest Middle School in the 6th grade. She’s the most layed back person I’ll ever meet. She got a D in her algebra test back in the last days of 8th grade. She just crumpled up the paper and said “Eh. Algebra sucks”.
Jen’s also a journalist. Always has been. And Ben too. Its funny how Jen and Ben live right next to each other in town houses, their first names rhyme, and their both journalists. Except Ben’s like a genious. And Jen’s not.
PaperandPen: k bak, so wat is up?
Starlett21: I had 2 work for 5 hrs! and now like 3 hrs of homework.
PaperandPen: Yea, btw, is that essay due 4 English due on thurs or fri?
Starlett21: thurs, we only got 3 days. I’m 2 lazy 2 start it now
PaperandPen: hey, did u get picked 2 go 2 the buzz’s 1st meeting 2morrow? My English teacher invited meJJ
The Buzz is the school’s newspaper. I know, dumb name, right? But our school’s mascot is a bee so it makes sense.
Starlett21: no, but I’m goanna go anyway, u don’t have 2 get picked, Do u?
PaperandPen: no, but if they invite u that means they really want us 2 b on the buzz
PaperandPen: ppl said their going to cut some ppl if 2 many ppl come
Starlett21: I hope its not me
PaperandPen: no, u’ll make it, seriously u rock at photography
Starlett21: thx, hey I gotta tell u something
PaperandPen: what?
Starlett21: but stay calm, k? don’t freak out or anything
PaperandPen: and since when do I freak out? Millie died and I didn’t freak out!
Millie was Jen’s cat. Rest in peace.
Starlett21: ok ok, well here it is…. Drum role please!
PaperandPen: o, just say it already!
Starlett21: I met this guy after school
PaperandPen: OMG! REALLY! Scarlett dear, we as ppl, meet guys very often. Seriously, that’s it?
Starlett21: I was riding my bike full speed, and I crashed into him, and he’s really nice. His name’s Jacob levy, awesome nice right?
PaperandPen: 1. Whoa! Did u get hurt or something? No, bcuz u’d b at the hospital right now. 2. U like a guy. Good 4 u and 3. Yes, very kool name
PaperandPen: so tell me everything I guess
Starlett21: I’ll tell u 2morrow, I gotta do hw, k? c ya
PaperandPen: whoa! Ur just goanna leave me here at the edge of suspense? Nope, tell me, plz!
Starlett21: fine. He’s smart, talkative, friendly, plays soccer, and is a quite a good looking guy
PaperandPen: do u think he’s taken? Bcuz if he didn’t immediately leave after he bumped you that means he’s not, or he doesn’t care much bout his girlfriend
Starlett21: how do u kno? Guys have can friends that are girls, and have a girlfriend
PaperandPen: I guess so…. But that’d b so weird, but wat do u think? Taken, not taken
Starlett21: probably taken, but u can never b sure
PaperandPen: I say if he’s not taken, grab em as fast as u can, cuz he’ll be gone quick
Starlett21: k, well g2g cya
PaperandPen: bye!!!!!!!
Starlett21 logged off
I know it doesn't sound very adventurous AT ALL right now, but trust me by like chapter 5 it'll get better
comment please!