The Little Things

February 2, 2009

Today I was at least hopeful, and not completely negative. In fact I was secretly excited to go to PE, but keep that a secret. I’m trying hard to focus on my work when Sarah, Veronica, and I get to talking about the Katy Perry concert. Veronica: “I really want to go, but my mom says no since it’s at a bar. But I might get to see The Killers!” My heart sinks. I cannot remember if I spilled the beans or what, but I pray to god that the tickets will soon be sold out before she gets her hands on them. Me: “Oh.” That was all I managed to say. Veronica is barely a Killers fan; I wish I could strangle her right now. I come back with, “Yeah, I love The Killers. I have all their albums.” I understand that was a total cat-ish thing to do, but to be honest, that was what I was aiming for. Yeah, yeah, she knows one song. In my book, that is called a poseur fan. You might not understand how it can get under my skin so much, but I like doing things on my own. Without friends to ask to “hang out” with me when all they do insult me.

 Sarah speaks, “Phoenixx don’t take this the wrong way, but my brother thinks-” I finish for her, “That I’m to young to go to Warped Tour. I know, you told me.” She goes on about how he said I was too young to go to concerts, listen to this kind of music, “besides I might think I know what they are talking about, but I really don’t”. Now, the last of that sentence was a quote. All I could think was, WHY DOES HE (YOU) ****ING CARE?!?!?! It’s not like it is any of his business. Note to self: Never speak of any concerts near my “friends”… ever. This is one reason why I love to isolate myself from everyone. Just when I’ve dusted myself back off, they bite back with words. I reply to Sarah, “What I am I supposed to listen to, Hannah Montana?!?!?!” I wish I could scream in her face. In fact both of them, but I’ve got a “good girl” reputation and I wish I could show them my venom.

 Later that day Madeline comes over to me, “Phoeni, I can’t believe you are gonna bail on me with the Katy Perry concert!” I’m sorry, but I would like to save my money for other concerts and merchandise money. I reply to her, “I’m sorry, but I wanted to see The Killers.” “Yeah, but still.” she continues. I respond, “Yeah, but it’s THE KILLERS.” Veronica was sitting next to me. Of course then she starts talking about bands, which leads to a dream she had, which leads to money. With that someone asks what she would do with the money. Veronica: “Um, go to concerts, buy clothes, shoes.” Go to concerts was her first answer. I know for a fact she wouldn’t even have thought about it if I hadn’t brought it up. God, why do I have to be such an idiot?!

I suppose, I shouldn’t get mad over things so little as these, but it’s the little things that make me itch.

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“Here we go again”

January 14, 2009

“And here we go again, with all the things we said and not a minute spent. To think that we’d regret so we just take it back. These words and hold our breath, forget the things we swore we meant.” – Paramore “Here We Go Again”

Today the music teacher is absent. So Mr.”B” is substituting, which means the whole class will take advantage of him. Mr.”B” is a poetry writing, nice, intelligent, old man and doesn’t seem to have the nerve to get the class in his control. So while pens and pencils fly across the room, the radio is turned on, and students bang on instruments.

It started with a Sharpie. I grabbed an orange, Sharpie high-lighter. I drew on my shoe a bit and my friend Robby snatches it from my hand. I tug at the high-lighter, trying loosen his grip; no use. I just sit there as Mr.”B” tries to put cartoons on (Bugs Bunny to be exact.) I see Robby I wait a couple minutes go up to him and snatch the marker right back. My “friend” Sarah sees the marker and says, “I saw it first, Brennen took it away from my so give it here.” I don’t think she noticed I clenched my jaw in frustration. I am so sick of Sarah. One minute I think we are good friends, the next she is calling me a loser, or knifing me in the back by going along with people who are messing with me. So now Sarah grabs the marker and I plead, “Just let me use it for a second.” She smiles at me and says, “X’s.” “What?” I reply. I pondered what she was trying to get at, did she mean like when I go to concerts? Since I’m under 21 if I go to a certain concert venue they mark my hands with X’s, making sure I can’t try to purchase a drink. She murmurs, “Never mind, you aren’t smart enough to understand.” That set me off, yet again I didn’t show the emotion of anger. I’ve learned her tricks. If I tell her off she get mad and tells the whole school about the fight, then she’ll turn everyone against me, lie some more, and then say sorry. I hated this. It took me a minute to understand what I was getting myself into, though I went on. “Sarah, why do you talk like that? Why are you always calling me stupid or a loser?” Robby looked up at us and spoke jokingly, “C’mon guys! Why do we have to fight right now?” I gave him a look and sighed, “Robby.” “Yeah, why are you bringing this up right now so everyone can hear?” Sarah pushes. Isn’t it freaking obvious?! I responded, “Because you just did it a minute ago so I said it now.” “Yeah, but still.” said Sarah. I felt like slapping a hand to my forehead, what kind of answer was “Yeah, but still.”???!!! Sarah said something like, “Well, I was only joking and sorry if you didn’t get it.” I didn’t notice the sorry in there until a few minutes later when she said, “Fine. Then don’t accept my apology.” in that famous attitude of hers. I bulged my eyes and turned around. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” and turned to face the TV once more. This seemed like a little thing to get mad over in my book, but she just kept going. “Oh, so you still don’t accept my apology.” I whipped around and said, “FINE. I’M SORRY!” I turned back around and heard her whisper, “B****” Are you kidding me I thought?! I was going crazy and acted upon my first impulse with hatred burning in my eyes. “I heard what you just said.” “You don’t know what I said-” I cut her off. “I know what you said you called me a b****.” “No I didn’t, who are you to tell me what I said?” My heart was pounding now. I was ready to scream right in her face. She’d never seen me like this because I had never let it escape, but it was so on right now. Call me a b****, you’ve crossed the line. “You always get mad at little things like this. And you did to call me a b**** I heard you so stop lying.” I turned around once more huffing like mad, attempting to slow my heart rate. I swear my heart was beating so fast, so hard.

Sarah scooted back in her chair far away from me. I pretended to keep my attention to the TV while I was writing out the whole story in my head. Every so often I would glance around the room. Once I saw Sarah talking to Veronica and Giselle, most likely about me. I didn’t give a damn, I don’t need crappy friends anyway. My fingers were crossed as I hoped they wouldn’t come over and do Sarah’s dirty work. What did I expect? Veronica sat by me for a while, I thought she could be decent enough not to say a word about the argument. Nope. Wrong. She said she hoped Sarah and I would make up. I didn’t reply to that at all.  I was absolutely sure I wouldn’t make up with her, I wanted this to last so she wouldn’t keep coming back, repeating the same patterns. By the time I had looked up again, Sarah was in a corner feeling all sorry for herself. Another one of her tricks. Kids will come over to her and ask, “What’s wrong?’ and she’ll tell them the whole story after she was told me not to say a word about “our business”.

On the way out of music class Veronica tells me, “Sarah wasn’t calling you a b****, she said she was calling herself one.” I was thinking, riiiight (note sarcasm). Instead of saying that I just narrowed my eyes. Once we got back to our classroom Ms.____ was reading. About half way through the end of her reading Sarah passed me a note. It was telling me “how sorry she was and that she was calling herself the b****.” It also told me to circle yes, no, or maybe, if I accepted he apology. I couldn’t believe this. I wanted to circle maybe or no, but instead I said yes. What kind of idiot am I???  So she hands me the notebook on the sly again with another note scribbled on it. Sarah wrote something like, “You are such a good friend if you accepted my apology.” All I was thinking was, Or maybe I’m just a really good liar.