Young Writers Society

I quickly entered my classroom, hoping I slipped in unnoticed; I didn't.

“You there, whats your name?” the teacher called out to me. Everyone turned around and smirked at my mud stained clothes.

“My name's Jessie....” I muttered, trying to imitate an English accent. I didn't, my voice sounded like Yoda had a child with Marry Poppins, it was that bad.

The class chuckled and I could hear some guys call me an inappropriate part of the male anatomy. The teacher looked at me with a smirk. “You must be the boy from Washington.”

“It's actually called America,” I could feel the blood rush to my face, more chuckles from the peanut gallery.

I tried to keep my cool, not everything was over yet, I still had my dignity. “Stay cool, keep it together,” I whispered to myself.

Then the peanut gallery came back for more. “Hey, what instrument do you play? The jug?”

And being my always sharp as a ball of wet clay self, I retorted with “Yeah....”

I almost wished I had just exploded right then and there, at least they would shut up after that. My fingers immediately started fingering musical scales, I always did that under pressure. After my last comment the hecklers were having a ball.

“I bet thats not the only thing he likes to blow.”

“What is he doing with his fingers?”

“Hey, why don't you play the jug for us, maybe you can make some moonshine for us while your at it.”

The teacher had enough of the comments, even though he didn't intervene until the laughter disrupted the class, two floors above us. I quickly took a seat in the back and buried my hands in my face. Well there goes my dignity, sailing away on a jug of moonshine marked looser across it. It wasn't the best way to start the school year. I could have been hung on the flagpole by my underwear, at least then the drop down would of killed me.

I looked up, half expecting the entire class to be writing a three page essay on why Jessie is a total dumbass. Reason one; a smart person wouldn't correct the teacher and tell him that America is really called Washington.

My self rantings got interrupted by the sound of something that didn't make me want to go shove a clarinet down my throat. “For what it's worth, I thought your fake Chinese accent sounded hilarious,” wow I was way off with that accent.

I turned my head to the side and smiled, even though I probably looked like the Joker getting a prostate exam. Okay maybe I am a little too hard on myself but if you were the one who just went through that you would be hard on yourself too

A tall gangly boy with braces smiled at me. I knew I shouldn't have laughed being the one who just got a thorough verbal beat down, but he looked like a horse, no joke. He had a long nose, buck teeth and a sort of pinched up face. Before you call me a gigantic jerk, I did not just outright laugh at him. I made a sort of wheezy, strained noise. Even though he probably thought I was the weird one after that.

“What's your name?” I asked.

“Jeremy,” he said.

An awkward silence settled over us and I turned back to not listening to the teacher rant on about geometry, my least favorite subject. After an hour of diligently studying the ceiling and hoping the rest of the day would go better, I was finally free from the first stage of academic purgatory.

I quickly left the classroom with my head down and my hands in my pockets. Though the fates had no mercy on me. Just as I thought I was free and melded into the crowd of students scuttling to their next class like ants, Jeremy decided to talk to me. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't disappointed that it was him that decided to talk to me, though I'd be lying if I said I'd be sad if a hot girl decided to come flirt with me. It was the content that he tried to talk about with me, he talked none stop about a game called “League Of Legends” and when that failed he tried to talk about “girls” he had gone out with. Though I seriously doubt he went out with a French model, and if he did then I needed to get my eyes checked, badly.