Rat Race

Chapter 3: Rat Race

 

 

 

 

With a few more practices out of the way with Where We Sleep, summer was ending. Things were looking up with the music they were making. Trevor, trying to find his niche with what he knew of dirty vocals mixed with personal songwriting. Being a guitar player himself did help with rhythm. He mostly delved into the feeling of anger at how people were limited in what they could do because of a different appearance, as opposed to romance or specific personal experience. Back to school, the year felt brand new as it ever did. Trev felt like he’d found himself. He no longer felt like just an average high-school kid trying to find friends and get through adolescence. In the halls, people seemed much more separated. Like they knew who they wanted to be around and who they wanted to avoid. It didn’t bother him.  He was an everybody man. In a group, he spotted those people. Luke, Shaun, Joseph, and Caroline He approached vigorously, and blurted, “Hey, hey!” If he knew anything of awkwardness how much it would be. But, he only knew fear and self-righteousness. Joseph replied, “Hey there!” with a warm smile. Luke said, “Hey.” With a cool, coldness; Shaun said nothing.

After a pitch about summer and how he though the whole music scene thing was great. Trev deduced that Joseph and Caroline were now dating. He decided he didn’t care. Although he did think she was incredibly pretty, she hadn’t been something he pursued and wouldn’t start now, though the thought had crossed his mind before. What did bother him was Shaun’s silence. The numbness of it was something he knew he could do nothing about. He thought he wouldn’t waste any more of their time and closed with, “Have a good day! Hope we have some classes together.” As soon as Trevor began to leave their space, he was greeted by Fred. An old buddy from youth baseball, he also played music with. Really part of the founding of his musical hobby besides guitar lessons and the previous band he was in with Bill and his childhood friend Tyler. He was concerned with their mutual friend Dane who was Trev’s ride to and from school. Fred informed him that they were now in a band together and wanted to make sure he would be at practice. He decided to diffuse the already stale situation.

 

“Alright, well, I’ll just ride the bus home. He can tell me when he has practices or not or if he wants to just stop giving me rides.” “Alright, awesome dude!” he proclaimed, and strolled away looking pleased. Trevor still thinking about what he’d said would entail and how their new band was probably indie, alternative, or grunge rock. Then thinking about his own new band and what he would do or if it would even last, he slunk into his French I class. Feeling foreign among the eager faces, some he knew, some he didn’t. Also feeling pretty lethargic, resting his eyes at his desk in a red Central Park shirt and brown shorts. No teacher to be seen. A minute later, a not-so-ceremonious tapping on the desk beside him, followed by a droll calling, “Hey, you. Don’t you think class should have start now?” Trevor raised his eyelids. Next to him was the tiniest girl he’d ever seen, sitting there with an anxious, yet complacent look. With dirty blonde hair, a bright top, and tight, light blue jeans she looked like she’d fit in with most in this school. However he could also sense this detachment about her. He replied with, “I’m not sure, I don’t know the first thing about French and I haven’t been out of any core classes yet.” She smiled and lowered her eyes. “Ah, doesn’t it suck? Next year will probably be worse too.” Ignoring this unsettling notion he simply asked, “What’s your name?” Samantha, she replied. With a tone he could tell she didn’t like that he didn’t affirm her future outlook. At that moment, a woman with short, black hair. Probably in her mid-thirties, walked in and addressed the room. Surprisingly, in French.

“Bonjour! La classe. Aujour’hui nous allons chercher nos noms” “What in the?” Trevor thought in his head. “Nous allons approfondir l’itrepid nature de la langue francaise et appredre à parcher et à lécrire.” “Double what?” thought Trevor. “Il est maintenant temps de choisir vos noms et nous allons obtenir une liste en commençant par le premier étudiant.” “Triple what!?” Thought Trevor.”

“Now I said, We will choose our French names and learn to read and write French as we progress through this class.” Said the teacher. “Well, that makes much more sense.” “Vous allez étudier toutes les notions de base de la langue française notamment grammer et la maîtrise de la langue.” “Ugh, I’ll never get used to this.” “Or, you will study and develop fluency in the language.” Explained the teacher. “Ah, well then.”

“Now choose your names.” said the teacher. Looking at a list, Trevor liked the idea of taking a different name to be used in this classroom. So from looking at the list he decided he would choose a more normal name. Instead of the one’s that were totally Frenchified. He chose the name Benjamin.  With the last leg of the class the teacher announced her name was Mrs. Rhodes and that she would be teaching French for the entirety of any French classes if you so choose to participate. With that she called out all the names that the class had chosen for our French names. “Louis! …” “ Présent.” “Madeline…” “Présent.” “Ben-jaa-monn!” That was the way that the name itself was pronounced in the French language and was the one that Trevor had chosen himself. “Présent!” said Trevor. After all names had been called, Trevor could overhear talking of excitement of students hoping they would be able to speak the French language as the bell rang. He walked out of class and found himself gazing at the white walls before him as he knew it was time for lunch and life didn’t seem as pressured as he did so walking to the cafeteria.  He knew that he was simply going there to eat, and that was good enough for him.