table, hitting Chris in the chest. He narrowed his eyes at Sophie.
“Hey, that could have hit me in the eye!”
I realized that the item was a pencil, and that Sophie had thrown it at him. “You’re lucky it wasn’t the knife. Now turn around and stop making your poor partner do all the work. I know it’ll be difficult, but I have faith that even you can create something beautiful.” Chris huffed, and turned around, and Sophie spun back to me and said, “I told you I’d kick his ass.”
I just looked at her. If Robin and Stephen thought we had similar backgrounds, how in the world had she turned out so completely different?
We finished the work before the bell rang and sat there in silence. It was fine by me, because it was hardly fair for Sophie to have to fill the void alone. Since it was Friday and I didn’t have to see Ms. Rice, I went to the library to help return books and grade papers. Stephen had arranged it as a way to give me credit for being a student aide. I didn’t have to be around anyone other than the librarian, Ms. Peters and I rarely had to speak at all. For the rest of the school day I thought about everything Sophie had said to me.
I had to chuckle from time to time, thinking about what happened before the bell rang. She’d leaned in close and said, “Hey, if everything goes right,” I got nervous at that point, “Chris should have a big knot on his head or maybe a swollen nose in about an hour.” I wondered what she meant. Was she actually going to punch him? “I plan to ‘be clumsy,’” she explained, complete with air-quotes.
It hadn’t been the worst day ever, but I was ready to go home. However, as I sat in David’s car, I realized that today was therapy day with Robin, and I would find no peace there either.
I wondered if Sophie even knew what was in store for her.
My second day at Damascus High started off boringly enough. I avoided Chris and Connor like the plague, even as they followed me around like puppies that thought I had a Milkbone in my pants. The first part of my day was fine. Photography was a waste, seeing as everyone else was developing their film from last week’s assignment. Study hall and lunch were again filled with annoying people sitting with me even though I hadn’t asked them to.
I did have a conversation with a girl named Andrea Tuttle about what kids did for fun around here. She was as cool as someone like her could be. She was nice and that was…nice, but I bored of it all quickly.
Just as I thought I was about to go insane, I watched as Jason made a point to stand up from his group of friends and walk past my table, his hand tapping his pocket. It amazed me how easy it was just to leave the library. The librarian must not care at all.
I waited for just a minute or two before I left and walked to the woods, where I found him waiting. “Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster!” I said as I sat down next to him on the fallen tree.
“The what?” he asked with a soft laugh.
“Google it.” I could’ve gone into the whole thing with him, but I didn’t feel the need. The whole concept of “God” was a sore subject with me. My mother wasn’t religious or anything, but she loved to take advantage of people, so she appealed to them any way she could. My freshman year, she made me go to church with her. I didn’t really know why, but I thought she just wanted to feel important sometimes. New converts seemed to be exciting stuff at church.
I had to sit through youth group meetings too. They were horrible. People were always talking about “God’s goodness” and how he punished the wicked and rewarded the righteous. They went on and on about things like an apple and snakes, and for some reason, because two people wanted to know and understand their world, the rest of us got screwed.
Or something like that.
What did they call it? Original sin?
It was a bullshit concept and the whole idea of some being that loved me when I was good and
“Hey, that could have hit me in the eye!”
I realized that the item was a pencil, and that Sophie had thrown it at him. “You’re lucky it wasn’t the knife. Now turn around and stop making your poor partner do all the work. I know it’ll be difficult, but I have faith that even you can create something beautiful.” Chris huffed, and turned around, and Sophie spun back to me and said, “I told you I’d kick his ass.”
I just looked at her. If Robin and Stephen thought we had similar backgrounds, how in the world had she turned out so completely different?
We finished the work before the bell rang and sat there in silence. It was fine by me, because it was hardly fair for Sophie to have to fill the void alone. Since it was Friday and I didn’t have to see Ms. Rice, I went to the library to help return books and grade papers. Stephen had arranged it as a way to give me credit for being a student aide. I didn’t have to be around anyone other than the librarian, Ms. Peters and I rarely had to speak at all. For the rest of the school day I thought about everything Sophie had said to me.
I had to chuckle from time to time, thinking about what happened before the bell rang. She’d leaned in close and said, “Hey, if everything goes right,” I got nervous at that point, “Chris should have a big knot on his head or maybe a swollen nose in about an hour.” I wondered what she meant. Was she actually going to punch him? “I plan to ‘be clumsy,’” she explained, complete with air-quotes.
It hadn’t been the worst day ever, but I was ready to go home. However, as I sat in David’s car, I realized that today was therapy day with Robin, and I would find no peace there either.
I wondered if Sophie even knew what was in store for her.
My second day at Damascus High started off boringly enough. I avoided Chris and Connor like the plague, even as they followed me around like puppies that thought I had a Milkbone in my pants. The first part of my day was fine. Photography was a waste, seeing as everyone else was developing their film from last week’s assignment. Study hall and lunch were again filled with annoying people sitting with me even though I hadn’t asked them to.
I did have a conversation with a girl named Andrea Tuttle about what kids did for fun around here. She was as cool as someone like her could be. She was nice and that was…nice, but I bored of it all quickly.
Just as I thought I was about to go insane, I watched as Jason made a point to stand up from his group of friends and walk past my table, his hand tapping his pocket. It amazed me how easy it was just to leave the library. The librarian must not care at all.
I waited for just a minute or two before I left and walked to the woods, where I found him waiting. “Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster!” I said as I sat down next to him on the fallen tree.
“The what?” he asked with a soft laugh.
“Google it.” I could’ve gone into the whole thing with him, but I didn’t feel the need. The whole concept of “God” was a sore subject with me. My mother wasn’t religious or anything, but she loved to take advantage of people, so she appealed to them any way she could. My freshman year, she made me go to church with her. I didn’t really know why, but I thought she just wanted to feel important sometimes. New converts seemed to be exciting stuff at church.
I had to sit through youth group meetings too. They were horrible. People were always talking about “God’s goodness” and how he punished the wicked and rewarded the righteous. They went on and on about things like an apple and snakes, and for some reason, because two people wanted to know and understand their world, the rest of us got screwed.
Or something like that.
What did they call it? Original sin?
It was a bullshit concept and the whole idea of some being that loved me when I was good and
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