I won’t go to the prom. Some “popular girl” will probably jokingly ask me, expecting me to say “YES OF COURSE!” and when I say “no thanks” with a weird look on my face the joke will die quickly. Fellow “popular girls” and “popular guys” will console her, telling her there’s not way I’ll ever deserve someone like her . . .
Inside I will secretly wonder why the hell anyone would do something like that . . . Freak will probably go to the prom, perhaps alone, and I will stay at home and watch tv, perhaps, with my heart hurting, knowing that perhaps there was someone who actually wanted to go with me and I was so clueless I didn’t realize. I will ask Freak in a very non-suggestive way, and he will shrug his head and ask if it really matters.
Or maybe I will go to my chat room om prom night, secretly stealing into the computer lab and talking to my chat friends.
I am me, commonly seen as weird. I’ve been at the school forever, my initial shyness still convincing everyone, 8 years later, not to talk to me. I am an artist who wears bright, clashing clothes - known for wearing cheap tropical shirts with plaid pants. I’m a wannabe punk/goth/whatever the mood strikes me, but I love color too much and I’m not fanatical enough. I lack motivation, am an outright slacker, but still manage to get decent grades.
I hang out with the other weird people who don’t really have a clique, despairing over my virtuous friends and gazing longingly over at the “rebels”. I chronically fall in love with crackheads, slackers, and freaks, yet suffer from ever-present insecurity over where I belong. My indecisiveness sometimes makes potential friendships fail, and potential skills go into the cesspool where such things go.
I’m nice. I’m just that nice, average girl. Middle of the class. Teachers like me, because I don’t cause trouble. But when I do get silly, they tend to forgive me, because I’m just silly, not havoc-wreaking.
I have lots of crushes on lots of boys, but since I’m so average, most of them won’t go out with me–publicly. They spend “quality time” with me in the band room, or under the bleachers, though, because they know they can, and they also know I’m nice enough not to tell. I don’t secretly hate them or anything like that. I do it because I want to, and I like it. That’s all.
But my biggest crush is on Milo, the guy that’s so funny & sweet. He listens to everything I say. But I’m scared to tell him that, because he’s always got girls giggling & whispering to him. He’s never asked me to do anything except help him with his English homework. He’s never noticed that I wrote his name on the toe of my Chuck Taylors. I think I’d die if he did! but then again, maybe he’d like me, and ask me out. Maybe he’d ask me to the prom!
I’ll just be Chris, the girl who dresses in strange clothes, doesn’t bother with makeup very often, and rarely does anything more with her hair than tossing it up into a ponytail or under a hat. I’m the girl who’s always lugging around a big, fat backpack, because I can’t stand going back to my locker between classes…I’d rather duck outside for a quick cigarette. I’m the girl who tries out for every play, but doesn’t make any of them. I don’t have a crush on any of the boys…but I drool over the English AP professor. And I’m not going to prom, because I’m going to spend the evening drinking spiked koolaid and doing jello shots in Swiddles basement with the other freakazoids.
I’m Juli. Pretty average girl. I begin as a cheerleader/band geek (yes, both) until I am told I have to choose one or the other. I choose band. I play the tuba. Figure it will get me to college.
I’m also heavy into theatre and debate teams. I like to be in the action, not behind the scenes. I’m the one that people ask for help with English assignments.
I wear average clothes: no black, lots of pastels. I’m head of Student Council and in National Honor Society. But I’m also the one overlooked when prom comes along, which is a good thing, because I’m not allowed to attend.
I look like I would fit in wtih the preppies, but I don’t. They don’t seem to like people with no money.
I’m psy. I don’t care much for being in school, but it’s a good place to get away from my psychotic mother for a few hours. I’m the “punk girl” with the weird hair and kooky clothes. I don’t do homework and I don’t study and yep, you guessed it, I still pull in A’s. I’m only here cause I have a crush on that Demo kid.
I am. I am the kid from the wrong side of the tracks who is “too good” for the people who are also from the wrong side of the tracks, but is a loser to the people who are from the good part of town. I fit in with no one. I am struggling to remain morally afloat in this sea of sin and debauchery. I am slowly slipping beneath the surface of the waves. . .
I first see Juli one day when she checks her email in the computer lab before rehearsal for the school musical. One day I find the courage to talk to her. I mention something about being able to customize the computer she’s on so she won’t have to enter her hotmail login name every time she comes in. I fight the animal urge inside me to grab her . . . and secretly wonder if she has any feelings for me other than the normal pity of those who aren’t so superficial as to imagine there is nothing worth knowing under my skin.
One day I casually mention something about a recent topic in debate club . . . the topic for next week’s debate, in fact. With all the strength in my brain I try to remain nonchallant, trying to suppress the flirting my brain is doing, both with the danger of doing something wrong and with the idea of actually flirting with her.
As is the case with every other female I’ve ever known, she thanks me and tells me she’ll see me in debate next week. “I cannot let myself feel this. I SO do not need this,” I tell myself, hoping I’ll believe it long enough to ignore the pain in my heart as I see another one, another chance, walk out the door of the computer lab to rehearsal. I vow that I will get a leading role in the next production, or really anything to be closer to her.
My name is Shadowfox. I’m one of those smart kids who got so sick of school that she decided it would be easier not to go. Nobody in school knows me because I skip class pretty much every day and hang out by the gate with soulsling. I smoke too many cigarettes (among other things) and would rather stand outside in the snow, freezing my ass off, than inside the building listening to the teachers yammer on about things I don’t care about. I also have an inferiority complex because my older sister is a cheerleader in the same school and is very popular, so the few people who do know me in school refer to me as “Oh, you’re the cheerleader’s sister”. My usual attire is a black rock band t-shirt, blue jeans and white tennis shoes. The only thing that really stands out about me is the fact that I probably have the biggest breasts out of all the girls at the school, so I get a lot of unwanted attention from horny guys who think it is funny to make fun of me, but would never dream of dating me because of my unpopular social status.
I knew there was a reason why I hated high school…
I decide to skip the prom, and go to the party at Swiddles’ house with all the other freaks instead. But I don’t drink when I’m there. Because when they’re drunk, and I’m not, it makes me look and sound really, really good. I try to get iampunha to come along, but he decides to mope in his room instead. And I end up going to the party by myself, wondering why someone would even want to go to the prom in the first place.
Freak, I may have told you I wasn’t going b/c I felt sorry for myself, but I did go . . . you just didn’t notice me. After discovering Juli went to the prom, I went to Swiddles’s “party” thingy. I didn’t drink. I see no reason to kill myself slowly. I moped in my room for a bit before getting up the courage to go over to Swiddles’s house and enter through the back door. When people got drunk enough, I felt safe in letting part of my guard down, and for the next week or so I’ll be vaguely referring to certain things people said or did, because I’m secretly hoping all of you were flirting with me, however drunk you were.
I’m silent_rob, and from the sounds of it I’m in a clique with Swiddles and ssskugiii.
I’m a drama guy, that generally gets big parts in all of the school productions, and not from kissing up to teachers. Though the teachers really seem to like me, as I get a “Pleasure to teach” note on my report card from all of them. I’m also generally the class clown, always making the other students and the teachers laugh. This, coupled with being very polite, makes me very well liked by everyone. Though I tend to leave the jocks alone, though I still get along with them. This also means that I can be very sarcastic to people and still be very well-liked. I am very smart, an honour student, so goofing off and extra-curricular stuff in no way affects my marks.
I write a lot, anything from poetry to scripts and screenplays. I generally don’t care what others think, so I dress any way I please. This also means that I feel free to grow a beard and let my hair grow long.
I enjoy lengthy, intelligent conversations on pretty much any topic, as I am also very well-read.
Well there’s what HS was like, I mean is like. Hmmm, now all we need is the goofy principle (something like Mr. Belding).
Well, that was going to be a surprise, but there’s a place in Ft. Lauderdale called Ruth Chris’. That’s the only place I would dare take someone as special as you!
I’m Doobieous.My name makes everyone think he does drugs, but in reality, it’s just a play on words. I like to wear clothing that you’d find in Miller’s Outpost, or in surf shops.I listens to music that no one else does, and I don’t care.
I’m usually quiet and don’t like to talk in class (well except with friends, which usually results in the teacher telling us to stop talking). I do well in classes but it’s really cause the material is so easy and it bores me, so I’m stuck in a program because my teachers think I don’t try hard enough, or I don’t care about school (yet he makes a good enough GPA to get into college). The only classes I do horribly in are math and science even though I like science.
I’m a language geek, so I really enjoys my Spanish class, and I am always reading about some language, or some writing system (people can’t believe I actually find grammar interesting). I draw well and everyone can’t believe i’ve never taken an art class (and I’m not even in art).I usually end up designing a tattoo for a friend, because they see me drawing something.I dont do sports, I hate PE, so I went for JROTC. The football coach always asks me why i’m not on the football team because i’m 6’2", and a big guy.
I know at least one person from each clique, but don’t hang out with any of them. People are fascinated that I know so much stuff,and wonder about me sometimes. My best friend is Democritus, and i’m often the one who keeps Demo from bashing the skull of a jock in. I also know Psycat and see that look in her eyes when she sees Demo across the quad…
Being one of the gay students, I often lust for the jocks, and fortunately for him, this school is amazingly tolerant.Yet, I’m content to be single. I’m in no rush to get involved with someone, and am satisfied with the friends I have.
I don’t get invited to Swiddles’ party (couldn’t work up the nerve to introduce myself) and don’t get invited to Prom (pluto being the only one who considered asking me.) Instead I spend the night working at the drive-thru of one of the many fast-food restaurants near the High School. The popular crowd drives their limo through the drive-thru just to be silly. I pretend I don’t know them, and they return the favor.
I wonder what Freak is doing that night. I wonder what the cute guy in my calculus class is doing that night. I wonder if I should have plucked up my courage and asked the cute guy from my calculus class to Prom.
The cute guy from calculus class and his date come through the drive-thru in his shiny new Honda Accord. I restrain myself (with effort)from dumping a large Coke in her lap.
I also go neither to Swiddles party (having not received an invitation) nor to the prom, but instead spend the evening in my room writing depressing poetry rather than being catty on the phone about all those who did go because my best friend, with whom I would usually share these thoughts, is at the prom.
Had I known about Swiddles party I might have gone, but would have lurked in the corner trying not to be noticed because I’m sure no-one really wanted me there/wanted to talk to me.
I’ll be tending bar in Swiddles basement on prom night. I’ll be the sober guy in black in a cloud of dry ice fog. No one’s driving home drunk from this one. You’ll only think you have keys; I pick pockets. (See, here’s a note I lifted off ol’ Brimstone Burke from Holy Shot–you won’t believe what he’s been up to with the head coach.) With luck, one of the ladies will join me behind the bar…
I get the impression that this school will wipe out the standardized tests, and eat guidance counselors like popcorn. Maybe there should be an alley and a liquor store right behind the school to save them a few steps.
dogsbody, Balance notices every female. When I notice that you’re missing, I will call your house to check, and then come over to pick you up. You’ll make the party by nine, and you don’t have to lurk in the corner. You can lurk behind the bar with me–people never notice me there, unless they want a drink (or realize that their car keys are missing). We can recite our morose poetry at each other and realize how funny it really is. When people notice how much fun we’re having, we’ll become the center of attention and do a stand-up tragedy routine (trust me, it’ll work with this crowd).
Or we could just let them get their own damn drinks and get down to some serious necking behind the bar…
Ok then, let me slip on my flor length duster coat and meet you in the well then. I think I’m gonna go talk to Soulsling first, maybe try to invite him to go to the underground coffeeshop for open mic night.
