HW 24: Short Story

A kid walks into class wearing some kind of bright hoodie with aviators on top of his winter hat and his light blue skinny jeans hanging off his ass showing off his boxers while he makes a spectacle of himself while he greets all of his friends and cracks jokes about "the game" he saw last night... what a douche-bag I say in my head. Most people like this kid, but then again most people are walking stereotypes who's only concern is showcasing the newest dance move while wearing the newest clothes while humming the newest rap or hip-hop or R n' B song. I on the other hand am wearing whatever I could scrap together out of my closet, no logos, no ass hanging out of my pants, dignity in tact, even if I don't attract as much attention.

As I sit in class, having already done most of the problems on the board, I take a look at the people around me. Most of them are slaves to the newest thing, be it a new song, a new dance move, a joke they heard on TV or celebrity gossip. "These are cool people?" I think to myself. Where are the weird interesting people that every high school is supposed to have? I think every school has some sort of unofficial quota to fill of nerds, geeks, jocks etc., people naturally fit into this quota of people, however you don't see it in the refreshing way it was shown before. Now "cool" can be bought and the "cool" you buy outshines the "cool" you made in your room in the middle of the night. "Cool" people are just the regular people who have the money and time to get the most expensive and most "cool" stuff. Even the "cool" "un-cool" people have bought their version of "un-cool" at a store. Pretty soon the whole world is gonna be a great big pile of--"

"Yo, can I borrow a pencil?" the person sitting next to me asks as he interrupts my thought, I look up to see it's the same douche-bag who walked in dressed like a "'non-tool'-tool"

"Yeah, sure" I say as I give him one of my spare pencils so I can go about daydreaming again.

The kid next to me begins to doodle in his notebook which is filled with half taken notes and smudgy drawings he made weeks before. He uses my pencil to draw a monkey in a top hat with a cane dancing. Initially I'm angry that he couldn't have used one of his pencils to waste time in class but after seeing the doodle I smile a little to myself, the kid walks out of class, forgetting to give me back my pencil and pulling down his skinny jeans on his way out to adjust his low-pants look. I continue my day slightly less disappointed in the world... but only slightly.