New Year’s: BWoD!

Well, now that we’ve officially introduced Flathead and SadEyes, it’s time to tell the New Year’s story – Part Deux.  ;]  (You can read Part One here.) 

So, Jacqueline and I woke up the next morning in about the same positions we’d fallen asleep in—SadEyes was still sprawled out in the middle of the futon; we’re crouched on the edges, trying our hardest not to roll off.

As I sat up, every muscle in my body ached.  Note to self:  No more sleeping on futons that are almost as old as I am.  And another note:  No more SadEyes at sleepovers. 

Jacqueline and I staggered upstairs; SadEyes followed behind, well-rested and alert—I think she had woken up at least a couple hours before us.  I perused my kitchen cupboards and drawers to find us something for breakfast, and Jacqueline and SadEyes leaned against the island, watching and talking. 

“You know what we should do?”  Jacqueline ventured.  “We should prank call someone.  We should prank call everyone.”

I grabbed some granola bars, and we hurried over to the living room.  Our friends had our cell numbers, so we decided to use my home phone.  We picked our first victim:  Emerald.

I’m going to have to digress a bit, and branch out into a mini-background story.  Emerald was pretty, insecure, athletic and a little mean.  We were rather good friends, though, so we joked around with her a lot.  It might’ve been because she played a lot of tennis, but everything about her seemed… big.  Most noticeably, though, were her hands.  One day, we started calling her hands “Beefy Wads of Doom”.  I can’t remember the details of where the joke came from—probably birthed from a lengthy conversation between Jacqueline and I.  Anyway, we thought that “saying” was the most hilarious thing ever.  I mean, seriously, say it aloud.  It’s ridiculous.

 

 

 

Alright, back to New Year’s.  We’ve decided to call Emerald, but haven’t decided on what to say when she picks up the phone.  Through consensus and being reminded of it from the mention of Emerald’s name, we decide the prank-er will simply grunt “Beefy Wads of Doom” and hang up—the humor being in imagining how freaked and confused the prank-ee will be afterwards.

We call Emerald, and, after her, a series of three or four more friends, alternating the phone between us.  Then we get to Flathead and it’s Jacqueline’s turn.  We dialed his number—all suppressing giggles—and Jacqueline sat, phone pressed to her ear, anxiously waiting for him to pick up.

Introducing…SadEyes!

What person doesn’t make a good story? And what better way to introduce someone than through personal experience with said person? Well, this story just so happens to do both. And a true story concerning this person will demonstrate just how…unusual people can be today.

But first, let me tell you a bit about our character.

The only thing I regret to inform you is that she is completely, utterly, and totally nonfiction and nothing about this story is a lie or even embellished.

Well SadEyes, as we call her, earned her name for a reason. Not only did she always look as if she just adopted a bunch of stray pets only for them to get hit by a car as she left the shelter, but she definitely had the weird little quirks to match. She seems to be quite incapable of just ‘liking’ a guy. No, it’s always an obsession. Maybe it just happens with her because while this is part of many young teenage girls’ lives, nothing in her life could just be simple.

I remember on one specific occasion, as I grew to know her more, in class.

“Can I see your paper?” she asked me.  “I can give you my answers after.”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

At this moment SadEyes breaks out into hysterical laughter. At what, I’m not sure.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s Little Italy, not SMALL Italy. That answer is WRONG.” SadEyes mocks with her finger pointing at my paper for everyone to see.

As she continued to laugh I couldn’t help but become a bit annoyed. I fling some comment about wanting my paper back and about being sorry not all of us could spend our free time at the library. In response to this she says,

“Well, you may all be out partying, but then you’ll be crying when I’m the one who becomes Valedictorian.”

“Right,” I snapped back, a bit too harshly I suppose, “While we’re all out celebrating life when we graduate, you will be at home writing that speech no one cares about.”

With that answer, a result of my defensive reflexes, the room grew quiet.

“Hm,” Summer contemplated a moment after, “Make it meaningful anyway.”

And with that, SadEyes shut her mouth and gave up on her efforts in cutting me down.

Now, the reason I bring this story up about me specifically is to show my own firsthand experience with the kind of person SadEyes is. She is seemingly insecure about herself, and therefore brings others down. Oh, and one key element I nearly left out of the equation: she is obsessively concentrated on her looks.

 

 

 

 

All of this *points up* is completely true.

And now that we know a bit about our character, I can now share another short story, with the same character, of course, and just as much humor. This is more the story I was building up to.

Señor Madbrows: Part One

Who can say they met their best friend by banging their head against a wall?  (I mean, your own head—not your friend’s.)  Well, I am proud to say I can, indeed!  Let me explain: 

Jacqueline and I had been “acquaintances” for a while.  We’d been in the same drama, P.E. and computer classes, and our lockers were next to each other thanks to our last names.  But it wasn’t until we both met Flathead Madbrows that we truly bonded.  :]

Okay, so that’s obviously not his real name.  The back of his head being abnormally flat inspired “Flathead”; and a photo of himself he posted on his MySpace, where his eyebrows were ridiculously arched—so arched it became creepy and reminiscent of a rapist—inspired “Madbrows”. 

Here’s a little drawing to show how Jacqueline and I became ‘connected’ with Flathead:

 

 

So, during and after Flathead and Juliette’s relationship, he relied on Jacqueline and I to be his advice-givers and fountains of knowledge about Juliette (even though we hadn’t known her that long either).  Almost every night, I’d sign on to instant messenger and he’d be on.  Before the program even loaded, I’d hear that sickening *ding* of a message.  And the conversations would last for hours; hours of him “venting” as he put it.  Sometimes I’d just leave my computer and let him type, come back 30 minutes later and he’d be finishing his story of how Juliette wouldn’t do this or she said that, or whatever he was obsessing about on that particular day.  (I eventually learned to sign in “Invisible to everyone”.)  The odd thing was he was doing this to Jacqueline, too, and neither of us had any idea we were both suffering through the same…hell!  x]

So, that brings us to the ‘banging my head on the wall’ thing.  

“Best?” “Friend?”

I’m sure everyone has at least one person in their life that they regret becoming friends with. One can’t be held fully responsible—I mean, how is one supposed to know whom to avoid? Still, I’m ashamed to admit: I used to be best friends with Fruit Fly. You probably don’t understand the weight of that statement, but I’ll explain. (You’re also probably asking why I call her “Fruit Fly”? Unfortunately, that comes at the end of this story. Just hold on. :] )

Fruit Fly is the epitome of fakeness. (Artist rendering below.) She always wanted to be something she wasn’t and couldn’t. She had this irrational obsession with cheerleading; it took all she could muster to do a sad, half-assed cartwheel. I never decided if I should pity or laugh at her. Usually, she’d tell you one thing, and then tell another person something completely different, not giving it a second thought. She’d always call my house her “second home”. Once, we both slept over at a mutual friend’s house, and at dinner, I heard her say in that whiney, phony voice of hers, “You know, this is like my second home!” I suppose she forgot the fact that this was the first time she’d been in that house and—oh, yeah—didn’t she already declare that title elsewhere? But things like that didn’t matter to her. Friendship didn’t either.

After a rocky summer of on-and-off friendship, she still claimed I was her best friend and we started our sophomore year of high school. There was a new guy, which is rare—even rarer that he was funny and good-looking. This was Norwegian Model when he was a junior—in his pre-model days, before he went mad. :] (That name will also make sense a little later…)

Introduction

Our school. It’s weird, aggravating, and filled with quirky people…this is going to be interesting.

 

This is the introduction to “The Grand Gang: Stories from a High School”, a collection of stories based on weird things that have and inevitably will happen at/in our school and surrounding…lives. ^^

My name is Summer. I’ll be writing some of these fascinating stories for your entertainment!

And so will Jacqueline. She’s my best friend and the only other sane person here. Oh, and all the guys like her. ;]

 

 

Here’s a little insight into the other main characters:

[Names have been changed, so we don’t get punched at school.]

 

First, there’s Kent. He has a—let’s say—“fragile” voice and only hangs out with girls, but swears he isn’t gay. He projects the air of a “Goody-Two-Shoes”, but knows a slew of dirty words.

 

After Kent, always comes SadEyes. Her name is inspired by her facial expression: she permanently looks sad. She’s ‘best friends’ with Kent, tall and loves to exercise.

 

And there’s Lila, who has an anger problem, a serious long-distance boyfriend and a few crushes here.

 

There’s Flathead (name inspired by the shape of his head)—one of Juliette’s ex-boyfriends. He used to be unbearably insane (stories to come soon), but then got a new girlfriend, which seemed to calm him down.

 

And Juliette. She went out with Flathead.

 

I think Turner is worth mentioning, since he’ll probably be in most stories. He’s ridiculously obsessed with exercising and protein shakes, uptight and Republican.

 

And Zeke—whom Jacqueline, Juliette and I all took turns liking. Not so much “turns”, though…more like “at the same time”. It’s figured out now… mostly…I think…

 

Oh! Who could forget the Norwegian Model and his ditsy ‘girlfriend’, Fruit Fly? In summary: I used to like him, then he dyed his hair and started dating her. *shivers* More to come.

 

Ah, yes. We all have our quirks, don’t we? XD

Those are the main people, so I’ll stop there. And now to start the stories! :]