Drama Chapter 2

I hated drama with a raging passion, but it followed.

 

How was I supposed to cope with this? I was completely lost in this area, but yet she had always used me as a shoulder to cry on, and a place for advice. Every time she asked the same question: why, was it my fault, why wasn’t I good enough and again why? Each time I had the same answers: I don’t know, it wasn’t you, you were too good for him, and again I don’t know. But inside I screamed: love, love, love, and love.

My mother had fallen in love a total of twenty-six times; yes I counted. But the entire thing was pathetic, she went through the same thing many times. Usually it starts in the produce isle, she’ll be doing her usual shopping and someone would “accidentally” run into her. Eventually, I would be sent to the freezer isles and by the time I come back she’s already handing them her number.

Then of course it the “three day wait” to see if they would call. Of course if it was longer than five days it meant they were married, less than three they had just gotten out of a relationship, and the perfect three days meant it was a man hoer who had been used way too many times. But my mother –even though she’s the victim– has yet to learn these simple rules.

Then –yes, there is more– comes the dating stages and my personal tests. Stage one: first date. If they come in a cheesy and cheap tux it means that they obviously haven’t had much dating experience. Then if it’s to some place like Chili’s and they have a $10 coupon in their pocket it’s because they either don’t have a job or their married and they share an account with their wives  But this is where my test comes in. When the doorbell rings I run to get it while my mother is still putting her earrings on and open the door. If the man is disgruntled by my presence it means he was hoping to get busy that night.

Second stage: moving too fast or not fast enough. The guys I despised the most were the ones, who said the three dreaded words after three dates, “I love you.” This meant they were not only very alone but very desperate. But at times there are some guys who wait too long, and for my mother two months is way too long, so she dumps them.

But I can’t say this stage is all bad, my mother for days and weeks at a time is smiling everywhere she goes, humming and at times she looks genuinely happy. But I know this stage better than anyone, it's all a setup. I watched in horror as the reality of the situation finally opened up to my mother, they were married, they were trying to make someone else jealous, or they just didn’t love her anymore.

And last but not least, stage three: the breakup. It pained my to watch it. At times I’d hide while I waited for the screaming sobs to end. But when they didn’t I had no choice but to come out and help her. Usually she locked herself in the room for days at a time not wanting anything to do with the outside world. I felt so useless when I couldn’t help her, couldn’t take the pain away, couldn’t stop love and its uncontrollable net. I watched the sting’s after affect as it left a wound that she could only cover up again with a new boyfriend. When did this start? When I was six, my father left us.

 

But that was 9 years ago. I’m sixteen now, old enough to understand love and it’s power to control people. I’m a simple girl with a single quest: never fall in love.

 

But even though I understood what love did, I underestimated it, far too easily.

 

^^^

 

“Denise, you ready?” Sam asked a big toothy grin on his face.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” I said tying the shoelace of my shoes and jumping up to catch up to him.

“So, Sammy you ready?” I asked helping him put his backpack on.

“Yup, but listen Denise I think from now on you should call me Sam,” he said screwing up his face in an attempt to look grown up.

“Sam? But I like the name Sammy,” I said kneeling so we were in total eye contact.

“I know, but... I’m get bigger, see,” he stated craning his head to look taller.

I pretended to think this over, but then I opened my eyes in fake conclusions. “You know what? I think your right, you are getting bigger and big guys deserve big boy names,” I said getting up and ruffling his hair. Sammy puffed his chest out in pride and walked out of the door, his head held high.

I laughed and followed him out the driveway and waited for the bus. When it finally came I smiled and waved as he rode off. Now that he was gone, I could get ready for school in peace.

I took a quick shower tiptoeing past my mother’s door, who was still asleep after the affect of a huge sleeping pill dosage. Once in my room I slipped on some jeans and a black tank-top. I put my wet hair into a ponytail and took a quick look in the mirror.

My russet colored skin made a perfect fit for my long, dark brown hair which in turn matched my almost black eyes. I never wore makeup because I thought it was a waste of money.

I grabbed my book bag and ran out grabbing an apple and taking a seat by my best friend, Amanda.

“Hey there, chicken little,” she greeted with a big smile. Chicken Little had been my nickname since middle school. She'd made it up another friend of ours had read the story for the first time and said I was chicken Little for my views on love: one little hit and the entire world is ready to go into chaos.  

“Hey, ‘Manda,” I said giving her hug and sliding my bag under our feet.

            “Did you hear?” she asked checking her lip gloss.

“No, what?” I asked

“Well, you remember Bryan Schmortz?” I nodded. “Well he joined this weird online contest where he and anyone in the entire country get to trade schools for an entire semester. Then the two schools are supposed to guess who he is before it ends and the first to guess gets a prize of fifty thousand dollars for new computers,” she said looking over the bus as if trying to find anyone else who might be the possible candidate.

“Won’t he be followed and everything to make sure no one cheats?” I asked.

“Not-uh, because if they tell anyone the other school automatically wins.”

“And the teachers were aboard for this?” I asked thinking about our strict staff of teachers.

“Well yeah, ‘cause if they we win they get new computers and you know how sucky the old one are. Plus, they get to guess who the person is too so they get a closer look at the students, lucky b*****s,” she groaned.

“Well this next semester should be interesting,” I said sarcastically.

I looked over to Amanda and found that she was giving a sheepish smile to a row behind us.

“Well, whoever it is, I hope it’s not him,” she said pretending to fan herself. “He’s hot.”

I took a quick peak behind us and found a boy dressed in jeans and a brown t-shirt. He was looking out the window which he had pushed open and was letting the air flow onto his tan skin and ruffle his dark brown hair. He caught me looking and looked at me grinning. Embarrassed, I turned quickly.

“He’s hot right?” Amanda asked her high giggle filling the bus.

I shrugged.

On the next stop I moved to the isle behind Amanda to let her boyfriend, Jarred sit next to her.

“Hey Mandy,” he said planting a big wet kiss before turning to me and smiling.

“Hey Denise, how’s it goin’?”

“Hey, Jarred,” I said politely smiling.

Stage two.  

I stared out the window letting my thought wander a little. For some reason they settled on my brother and how he was in such a hurry to grow up. He looked a lot like my dad, the brown hair and dark tanned skin, the dimples, and bright hazel eyes.

I miss those hazel eyes, I caught myself thinking. Mentally, I kicked myself.

“Denise!” I heard Amanda call.

I turned and found that both she and Jarred were looking at me worriedly. “What?”

“I’ve called you like five times, we wanted to know if you wanted to come with us to the concert for the new band that’s in Reno,” she said her eyes never leaving my face.

“Oh, sorry, I’m kind of out of it, umm, I’m not sure I might be working that day,” I said scratching my arm.

Jarred rolled his eyes, “come on, you work too much. You gott’a live a little, starting with the concert. I’ve got a cousin coming to town for a couple of days, you two should hook up, he loves Latinas,” he said, encouragement in his eyes.

I shook my head, “mm-mm, you know my rules Jarred,” I stated scooting up in my seat.

“And what rules would that be?” I heard a voice say as someone plopped beside me. I looked over and found the same boy Amanda had gushed over a few minutes ago sitting next to me.

He smiled and put out his hand, “Hi, I’m James Kirkly.”

“Hi, Denise Rodriguez,” I said returning the handshake. 

“So, what rules, don’t date guys you just met?” he asked shoving his backpack under his seat.

 I opened my mouth in astonishment but quickly closed it and opened it again. “Have you been eavesdropping?” I asked.

“A little,” he admitted.

“A little,” I repeated, “and no, I don’t date,” I stated blankly.

“You don’t date? What, you just broke up?” he asked, trying to find an explanation in my words.

He was nosy.

“No, I don’t date, period,” I clarified.

“But, why?” he asked looking taken aback.

“Long story,” I said grabbing my bag from under me.

“I’ve got time,” he said trying to sound persuasive. Didn’t work.

“No, we don’t” I said pointing to the school gates that were just ahead of us. 

“All long stories have summaries,” he said grabbing his bag as well.

“Not this one,” I said pushing my way to the front of the bus when the doors opened.

I was surprised and a little annoyed when he caught up with me.

“What?” I grumbled making my way into the line for the mettle detectors.

“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said putting his bag out for inspection.

“Well you didn’t do a very good job,” I said passing them my bag as well.

“I just thought I deserved some sort of an explanation after being rejected,” he stated swinging his backpack over his shoulder and started walking.

“But you were never rejected, because technically you never asked,” I pointed out following him.

He stopped abruptly and faced me making me stop, “Fine, will you–”

“Why are you asking, you know my answer,” I asked sighing.

“Fine, but you owe me an explanation,” he said walking over to the information desk.

I don’t owe him anything, I thought to myself.

I walked over to my locker, quickly shoved my books in, and nearly ran to my math class. I made a disgruntled noise half way there; math was probably the only thing keeping me from graduating.

 I took my place in the back of the class and tried very hard not to think about the new annoyance at our school. I could hear a few girls in the front of the class eagerly gossiping.

“…yeah, and I hear they only pick really ugly guys…”

“… What school did the say he was from again?”

“… but the other school is trying for the prize too…”

“… I hear that one of the rules are that he’s not supposed to date anyone, especially anyone popular…”

 

I rolled my eyes, great, one day into the second semester and already the strange contest is the latest gossip.

“Settle down class,” said Mr. Jones, sluggishly ruffling his papers. In the same sluggish matter he turned to the board and started to write something but was soon disturbed by a small nock on the door.

Every head turned but mine was obviously late because otherwise I would have let out my irritated sigh a little sooner. James stood there the same super polite smile that had greeted me on the bus was plastered on there again while his eyes overlooked the class and stopped on me and the grin grew wider.

“May I help you?” Mr. Jones asked, his tiresome voice filling the silent room.

“Yes, I’m new and I’m pretty sure this is my class,” he said checking his paper and passing it to Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones spent a couple seconds reading the paper then pointed to the only empty desk in front of me. Then with that big grin of his, sat down in front of me.

“Hi again,” he whispered.

“Hi,” I whispered quickly.

“Why are you annoyed with me?” he asked sideways, glancing at me.

“Because you’re nosy,” I stated trying to see what the teacher was talking about.

“And you’re irritating,” he said turning back around.

“What – how – how am I irritating?” I asked slightly taken aback.

“Ms. Rodriguez, could you please refrain yourself from talking. You may not care but some for the students are actually trying to learn,” Mr. Jones snapped at me.

I opened my mouth to retort but quickly shut it deciding spending my math period in the principle’s office wouldn’t be a great idea.

Instead I took a paper from my binder and quickly wrote a note then passed it to James when the teacher wasn’t paying attention.

It didn’t take long for him to reply.

 

How the hell am I irritating? –Anna

 

Don’t you think this is a little juvenile? -James

I quickly replied and passed it back. This is how the rest of math class went.

 

No –Anna

 

Do you really want to know? –James

 

Yes –Anna

 

Then meet me after school –James

 

No, and I can’t, I have to work –Anna

 

See expiations aren’t that hard –James. Next to it was a poorly drawn smiley face.

 

 Fine, but you have three minutes to explain it to me -Anna

 

But before I could pass it back it was quickly snatched out of my hand. I looked up in horror as the note was being unfolded by Mr. Jones. Slowly he read it smirking then stuck it in his pocket.

“Would you rather I read it to the class or would you prefer an additional math assignment?” he asked still smirking.

I’d like to wipe that smirk off with one pu– but my thoughts were quickly interrupted when James said he’d rather have the extra assignment. Mr. Jones gave me a questioning look but I simply nodded and slumped into me seat.

“All right, come see me after class,” he said walking away.

I heard a couple smirks coming from the girls in front of us. I gave them a quick glare before putting my attention back to my math.

 

^^^

 

When the bell finally rang, I quickly walked over to Mr. Jones’ desk picked up my assignment and walked out trying to avoid, once again, the annoyance James. I wasn’t going to let him get to me, that is obviously what he wanted.

A few feet away from my class I heard Mr. Jones calling my name. I wheeled around and found he was not alone.

“Ms. Rodriguez, could you please come here?” he asked impatiently tapping his foot.

“Yes, Mr. Jones?” I said when I finally got back.

“You never stopped for further instructions on you new assignment,” he stated with a dubious expression.  

“Sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry,” I said avoiding James’ gaze.

“Obviously, but because you two seem so keen to get to know each other I thought of a great assignment for you two. Mr. Miller your English teacher was telling me about his new assignment for you,” he said with a sly smile.

“And what would that be?” James asked ruffling his hair again.

“Every class will get to pick a partner and they will have to spend at least three hours together and write in a journal about how they view this person mentioning some of the new things you learn about this person and your opinion on some of his or her habits.” He paused for a moment to clean his glasses. “And I think you two should partner up.”

Crap.

“But I thought you said we get to choose ourselves?” I asked desperately.

“Yes, but I think we can make an arrangement,” he said cocking his head to the side. I knew he was enjoying this because the way he saw my panic seemed to feed him some sort of joy.

            “Can you do that?” I asked. My eyes moved to James looking for help but he didn’t seem to care, his eyes looked distant like he was thinking about something else..

            “I can do anything, I’m a teacher,” he said a grin of triumph on his face.

            “What do you think Mr.…?” he asked leaving the sentence hanging.

            “Kirkly.”

“Right Mr. Kirkly, what do you think?”

“I don’t mind what do you think, partner?” he asked smiling.

“I – uh–”

“Well, great because whether you two liked it or not, it’s going to happen. Part of my complimentary punishment, maybe next time you’ll learn not to pass notes during my lectures.” And with that he walked back into his classroom but not before muttering something about how rotten we are.

With a heavy sigh I turned on my heel and walked away, I was in no mood to talk to him. I found Amanda standing by my locker waiting for me. When she saw me she frantically began waving her arms in a attempt to get my attention.

“Hey,” I said glumly opening my locker and grabbing my PE clothes replacing it with my math book.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked applying a bit of Chap Stick.

I explained to her what had happened during Math a little grateful she’d let me yell when necessary.

Once I finished she stayed quiet for a moment fiddling with something in my locker.

“So, you two will be spending a lot of time together?” she asked her eyes never leaving the pen she was now clicking open and close.

“That’s not the point, the point is he’s incredibly annoying but he finds me irritating! How did that get switched around?” I asked.

“Well, I know you haven’t but I’ve been rejected before and it’s not a good feeling especially, when they don’t tell you why. Telling someone you just don’t like them or you don’t want to date them is not a good enuugh reason, you have to tell them why you don’t like them and why,” she explained finally looking at me.

“But I told him why, I just don’t date,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s like telling someone you don’t eat chocolate, you have to tell them why or they think your crazy.”

“But it’s just dating, why would someone think I’m crazy?” I asked pushing some hair behind me ear.

“Denise, sweetie, they already do.”

Author's Note

I take criticism and comments!!!

Reviews

[ACWilliams]

I LOVED IT. You should write more =D

[Andrian D]

I can understand where the main character is coming from in this, but it's a very cynical point of view. Not my usual cup of tea. Well written though.