tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13605205709557240362024-03-13T11:08:49.319-07:00Roxy the KillerRomance stories by Roxy. Now updated daily. Imagine that.roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.comBlogger260125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-88704692217961313082012-05-29T01:17:00.000-07:002012-07-02T00:30:05.253-07:00Storybook Index<em><strong>Note:</strong> The StoryBook Index will now appear at the top of all posts. Because You Suck will still be updated as usual. This just makes it easier to post different stories. Because You Suck will not "die," since it's my main focus. This is just so I can publish other stories I've kept hidden!</em> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mBuP4_IddIF6RYLG496czrHNbG65yv50Spr4wum6XYeHkt7GrbKEVo3Y7scqwLTaLxRXV4kb8vaydFxhb_lfSaEgYFoBDA3Kz4Rrc3P5rSn7QXmeamNfGjzneM7qI2lPuOTDsMSmiQE/s1600/booklet_writingblog.png"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573806526868720034" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mBuP4_IddIF6RYLG496czrHNbG65yv50Spr4wum6XYeHkt7GrbKEVo3Y7scqwLTaLxRXV4kb8vaydFxhb_lfSaEgYFoBDA3Kz4Rrc3P5rSn7QXmeamNfGjzneM7qI2lPuOTDsMSmiQE/s320/booklet_writingblog.png" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 21px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 21px;" /></a><span style="color: black;"><strong>Because You Suck</strong> [updated May 2, 2012]</span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;">Opposites attract and make unlikely bedfellows in this epic high school soap opera, where a shameless conformist falls for an unlikely rebel. Two boys, one unconventional love story.</span> <br />
<br />
Most Recent: <a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2012/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-29.html"><span style="font-size: large;">Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 29</span></a><br />
<g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:fill></g_vml_:fill></g_vml_:shape><g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape><g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape><g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape><a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2012/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-28.html">Cha<g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape>pter 22: Part 28</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2012/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-27.html">Cha<g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape>pter 22: Part 27</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2012/04/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-26.html">Cha<g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape>pter 22: Part 26</a> /<a href="http://www.roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2012/04/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-25.html">Cha<g_vml_:shape style="height: 1255px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: 0px; width: 728px;"><g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:stroke></g_vml_:shape>pter 22: Part 25</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-24.html">Chapter 22: Part 24</a> /<span style="font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-21-part-23.html">Chapter 22: Part 23</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-22.html">Chapter 22: Part 22</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-21.html">Chapter 22: Part 21</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-20.html">Chapter 22: Part 20</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-19.html">Chapter 22: Part 19</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-18.html">Chapter 22: Part 18</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-17.html">Chapter 22: Part 17</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-16.html">Chapter 22: Part 16</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2011/02/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-15.html">Chapter 22: Part 15</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/10/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-14.html">Chapter 22: Part 14</a> /</span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/09/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-13.html">Chapter 22: Part 13</a></span> /<span style="font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/08/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-12.html">Chapter 22: Part 12</a></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/08/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-11.html">Chapter 22: Part 11</a> /</span><span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;"><a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-10.html">Chapter 22: Part 10</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-9.html"> Chapter 22: Part 9</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-8.html">Chapter 22: Part 8</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-7.html">Chapter 22: Part 7</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-6.html">Chapter 22: Part 6</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-5.html">Chapter 22: Part 5</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-4.html">Chapter 22: Part 4</a><a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-3.html">Chapter 22: Part 3</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-2.html">Chapter 22: Part 2</a> /<a href="http://roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2010/05/because-you-suck-chapter-22-part-1.html"> Chapter 22: Part 1</a></span><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span><br />
Start: <span style="font-size: 130%;"><a href="http://www.roxythekiller.blogspot.com/2007/03/because-you-suck-chapter-1-part-1_26.html">Because You Suck: Chapter 1: Part 1</a></span> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mBuP4_IddIF6RYLG496czrHNbG65yv50Spr4wum6XYeHkt7GrbKEVo3Y7scqwLTaLxRXV4kb8vaydFxhb_lfSaEgYFoBDA3Kz4Rrc3P5rSn7QXmeamNfGjzneM7qI2lPuOTDsMSmiQE/s1600/booklet_writingblog.png"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573806526868720034" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mBuP4_IddIF6RYLG496czrHNbG65yv50Spr4wum6XYeHkt7GrbKEVo3Y7scqwLTaLxRXV4kb8vaydFxhb_lfSaEgYFoBDA3Kz4Rrc3P5rSn7QXmeamNfGjzneM7qI2lPuOTDsMSmiQE/s320/booklet_writingblog.png" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 21px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 21px;" /></a><span style="color: black;"><strong>Valentine's Day Sucks</strong></span><span style="color: black;"><br /></span><span style="color: #666666;">So does kleptomania, hypothermia, and being alone. How two boys make the most out of a holiday spent stuck in their school's icy-cold basement.</span> <br />
Most Recent: <em>coming soon</em><br />
Start: <em>coming soon</em><br />
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<br />roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-46087497660599965492012-05-04T22:11:00.001-07:002012-05-05T04:05:54.960-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 30<i><b>Note: (About Previous Chapters)</b> In response to a question... I attended a very preppy school where most parents visited the office every time their kids got in trouble. Some did it to smooth things over (like Zach's parents.) This is extremely commonplace in preppy schools, where school politics affect grades and college recommendation letters. Bringing gifts/food is not unusual. Parents visiting the office would normally talk to a vice principal (like Ns. Nasty.) My school had several VPs, including 1-2 who routinely met parents in the hall without introduction. One of them addressed parents and students the way Ms. Nasty does. Public accusations and humiliation happened constantly around that person, and I suspect that many people hung around just to watch and talk about it later.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some
days Gentry thought that he was a dynamic
person in a static world, a world with too much clutter. Today had been good.
It was good to see people like that, people who stood together but not because
they were the same. He thought about his parents. Wondered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did Sophia think about him?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Did she shove him out of her mind the way she shoved out
everything else that hurt her? Had she closed the door on this chapter of her
life?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Don’t ask questions
you won’t like the answer to.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t ask questions. He never asked questions. What could he
possibly do with the answers? Teenagers were irresponsible. Things needed to
be kept in order…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His foot kicked at the moldy wet leaves and trash which
covered the porch of Carly’s home, and forced his key into the keyhole.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Entered loudly as always, murmuring hello so as not to
startle him. Alcohol stung his senses. Wrinkled his nose but kept his mouth
shut the way it did everytime. Heavy sneakers clambered over the doorstep, and
the wind slammed the door shut behind him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Carly was sprawled on the couch, eyes closed mouth open.
Legs spread and head tossed back. A dried trail of drool glistened down the
side of his mouth, and his face shone red.</div>roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-64669606177216994542012-05-02T03:50:00.001-07:002012-05-02T03:57:36.160-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 29<em><strong>Note:</strong> Chapters 27, 28, and 29 were uploaded at the same time. So much for daily, huh?</em><br />
<em>This incident is based on a true story (like many events in this story.) The form and account are real, but with details censored/altered for protection. Although I don't name names, I heard and watched many of these events unfold while I was in high school. I wrote them down in a notebook that I carried everywhere. I also spent <u>a lot</u> of time in the office :)!</em><br />
<br />
At that moment, Ms.Nasty walked by. She stopped dead in her
tracks, pointed to the package and snapped,<br />
<br />
“What’s that?”<br />
<br />
“Pecan pie for the office.” Replied Gentry.<br />
<br />
“From where?”<br />
<br />
“From them.” Gentry replied, motioning to the family.<br />
<br />
“Open it?”<br />
<br />
Gentry did so, carefully untying the blue ribbon and opening
the white box. The pie lay in the package, freshy cut and glazed.<br />
<br />
“She said it’s for everyone.” He added, politely.<br />
<br />
Delilah gazed at the family, specifically at Zach, then
stormed over to Delilah.<br />
<br />
“Do you know why your son is here, Mrs.Tyler?”<br />
<br />
Delilah eyed her firmly, and clipped, “Yes, I do.”<br />
<br />
“He got into a fight with a police officer.”<br />
<br />
“Wasn’t much of a fight.” Zach interjected, then promptly
quieted down when his father rested a hand on his shoulder.<br />
<br />
“We are both adults, perhaps you can appreciate this
school’s concern about your son’s increasingly provocative behavior.”<br />
<br />
“Which behavior would that be?”<br />
<br />
Gentry leaned on the desk, his eyes shifting from one party
to another. He’d seen Nasty do this before, cringing whenever the
unsuspecting parent erupted into apologies. No one wanted trouble with school
authorities who had so much influence in the office…<br />
<br />
“You might not know it,” said Ms.Nasty, her eyebrows rising
over her glasses, lowering her voice discreetly as she said, “your son comes to
school in baggy pants and clothes that aren’t weather appropriate, such as
wearing baggy clothes in the summer. Are you aware of this?”<br />
<br />
“Yes.” Delilah’s tone remained the same, “I don’t like his
clothes, either. But he says they keep him warm and make him feel ready to take
on the day. What coffee or drugs are to some people, baggy pants are for him.”<br />
<br />
<st1:place w:st="on">Gent</st1:place>ry glanced up from the
notepad he’d been scribbling circles on. Well, this was something. Now he knew
where Zach got it from…<br />
<br />
“Well,” Ms.Nasty scoffed, putting down her coffee cup,
“those clothes might be appropriate for a mall or an arcade, but not a work
environment. Why do you let him go out like that?”<br />
<br />
“Because he made a valid point. We reason things out at
home, and Johan and I have always encouraged Zach to speak his mind.”<br />
<br />
Ms.Nasty stared at her in disbelief, and then snapped,
“Whatever point he made, school is not a home and those clothes are not
appropriate for a work environment. Students <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and</i> teachers have come in to complain… your son’s clothes violate
the dress code.”<br />
<br />
“There is no dress code,” replied Johan, “and he does his
work.”<br />
<br />
“And if any students or teachers have an issue with that,”
added Delilah, “I’d like you to bring them here the way you brought my son.”<br />
<br />
“Those clothes are not appropriate for school.” Ms.Nasty
raved, her eyes bulging, “Baggy pants are for gangsters, not schoolchildren! If
he were my son, I’d burn them!”<br />
<br />
Delilah eyed her firmly, staying silent for a good moment
before replying:<br />
<br />
“Well, then I’m glad he’s not your son.”<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Gentry stole a slice, sliding it into his mouth before
anyone saw. Some days… well. His parents never did that. Some days he wished
that, just once, they would have. <em>Just once</em>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“What you’re doing is child abuse!” Ms.Nasty yelled, so the
whole office could hear,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Those clothes
are not weather appropriate!”</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
A few of the secretaries and office personnel stopped,
shocked to silence and exchanging look. They never went against one of their
own, even…</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Zach, get up.” Delilah said stiffly, “We’re leaving.”</div>roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-29799203035590768822012-05-02T03:12:00.001-07:002012-05-02T03:12:40.824-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 28And Zach wouldn’t look at him. He only looked up to exchange
an apologetic look with his father, and searched his mother’s face for
something. Then he murmured something in a language Gentry didn’t understand,
and the woman whispered a reply.<br />
<br />
Immediately afterwards, she stood up and approached the
desk.<br />
<br />
“Excuse <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">me.</st1:state></st1:place>”
She drawled in her softest, most whispery voice.<br />
<br />
<i>Delilah.</i><br />
<br />
“Yes?” asked Gentry, looking up from the clipboard he pretended
to read. His eyes tried to steal a look at Zach, but since Zach still wouldn’t
look at him, he contented himself by staring at his mother like any other
stranger.<br />
<br />
“I noticed the nametag by your desk says Ms.Dakota, but I’m
guessing that isn’t your name. I like to memorize peoples’ names, could you
tell me yours?”<br />
<br />
Gentry hesitated. Was she trying to know his name so she
could file a complaint? Why did she want to know? He eyed her warily and said,<br />
<br />
“Gentry Lee Johnson.”<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“What a beautiful name… Unique, too, you’re very fortunate
to have parents who put so much thought into a name. Are your parents from <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">Alabama</st1:state></st1:place>, by chance?
Since I notice you also have a very slight accent.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Was she trying to curb a favor out of him or something? Get
information for a lawsuit?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Yeah. I’m from <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">Alabama</st1:state></st1:place>.”
He said, dryly, “Can I help you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Yes… I want to know where to put this. It’s for the entire
office… because I know you work long and stressful hours.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">… What the hell.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“What is it?” Gentry asked warily, watching her hoist up a
small gift-wrapped package. Was this a bribe? Not likely. Bribes usually went
to just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">one</i> person.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“It’s not a bomb.” She joked, awkwardly, and in the
background Zach rolled his eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“It’s a cake.” He spat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“A pie.” Delilah corrected.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“A pie.” Gentry repeated slowly, “What kind of pie?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Pecan pie. It’s already pre-sliced into twenty servings, so
there should be enough for everyone.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Pecan pie.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“Yes, Gentry, it’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pecan
Pie</i>.” Zach snapped again, then quickly resumed his silence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So did Delilah, who stared at Zach for a good, long moment,
then at Gentry, then at Zach— until her husband father interrupted:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“The only thing that will kill anyone in that package the
corn starch.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
He cast a nudge of a look at Zach, who Zach slouched into
his seat the way Gentry had seen him do the last time he was in the office. That
all-too-funny look of “get me out of here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“It won’t kill them to eat just one slice. Besides, it’s
organic. And pre-cut.” Delilah interjected, slowly easing the wrapped cake
toward him. With one slow, nudging finger.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Gentry cracked a smile.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“I’ll put it out.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“I’ll get plates.”</div>roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-35908207487399205812012-05-02T03:07:00.000-07:002012-05-02T03:07:00.003-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 27Few parents ever challenged anything. Most took what they
got and assumed the bureaucracy worked, even if there was a student sitting at
the desk firing off orders. Although the parents depended on the bureaucracy to
function, they were hardly ever humble— they came in $300 cellphones and
expensive suits, probably dressed down just slightly to sympathize with the
underpaid school worker. They’d pal around with you, try to earn a favor for
their kid. But the moment Timmy or Jeffy got a bad grade they’d come to you
outraged and demanding an answer. The secretary who worked the front desk was
actually a nice enough lady, and Gentry had seen plenty of shit-faced mules storm
in to demand <strong>where</strong> they could see so and so about some unfair teacher or
another. No hello, no goodbye, no one bothered to memorize her name. No one
ever bought her presents at the end of the year, because no one needed her or
valued her work.<br />
<br />
Gentry sat at her desk, and would earnestly promise to
“deliver this message” or “that paper” for people who addressed him with “hey.”
Then he would put the paper away and leave it alone, since doing nothing usually
did more harm than doing something.<br />
<br />
But <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Johan and Delilah</i>
seemed nice enough. Too bad their kid was a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">troublemaker</i>.
Gentry felt bad for those types of parents, even though he sometimes scared
them more by citing fake rules. Then he would pretend to reverse them, and
sheepishly accept their thank-you’s. Yet he didn’t have the stomach to do it
with these ones… he was too excited to keep a straight face.<br />
<br />
The man took a seat beside his wife. The wife gave Zach a
quick, nervous smile that was probably meant to lift spirits. For Gentry, it
did the opposite. Sophia smiled that way, too. Not with her teeth, just the
corners of her mouth… a smile so small you could miss it if you blinked<br />
<br />
…<em>whatever</em>.roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-42847779839672853462012-04-28T01:24:00.002-07:002012-05-02T02:52:39.087-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 26<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
God, wars were exciting. And the
office had never been more on edge— or more lively. Secretaries tromped past
each other with fierce bravado and, save for the sound of their thick heels on
the carpet or the occasional climper of a keyboard, the office was dead silent.
High noon was about to start, and Johan and Delilah had just closed the doubled
doors behind them with visible apprehension— polite people who never wanted to
cause too much trouble. Gentry knew the type, smiling when he saw Zach saunter in
behind them. He was dressed down, and a visible anxiety straining his features.
What did he expect? That’s what happened when you resisted an officer.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Of course, Nasty wouldn’t have
called the police if Zach hadn’t argued with the attendance lady. And the
attendance lady wouldn’t have argued about the Delinquency (or two) she stamped
on Zach’s permanent record if he would’ve checked into the office after that
test. None of this would have happened if Zach would have stopped by the office
before going to class. But no, Zach fucked up the natural order. Gentry perched
his head on one hand. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Delinquent</i>.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Although it wasn’t his job, Gentry sat at the front desk. He
almost always fooled people into thinking he was the secretary, because those
kinds of things were easy with a grim expression and a firm voice. The real
secretary was off on her lunch break, but parents didn’t know and at the
moment, neither did the office.</div>
<br />
“Can you be helped?” Gentry asked the man who approached the
bar. This was probably <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mr. Johan Tyler</i>.
But you were not supposed to use peoples’ names when addressing them; only
students did that. Adults used “you” a lot, and if they didn’t it was because
you were probably in trouble.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
“We have an appointment with Grau Harolds, the Principal?”</div>
<br />
“He’s busy. Please take a seat by the door.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-63732865366001042832012-04-24T01:03:00.000-07:002012-04-28T01:43:33.847-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 25<em><strong>Note (to Susan:)</strong> So much for me not flaking off, huh ;)? Your words literally brought a tear to my eyes. Thank you :). Yours is the first, and only, human-written comment of this entire year. I thought nobody read this story anymore, and figured no one would notice if I didn't post all of it. I'm glad I was wrong. I'll update it again, regularily this time.</em><br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<em><strong>Additional Note:</strong> Aha! Type-o's fixed. Thanks to Susan, the awesome editor :3. Inconsistencies are fun!</em></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: x-small;">Letter Addressed to the School
Board</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New; font-size: x-small;">June 14, 2007</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Courier New;">10AM:</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;">Union</span></st1:placename><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"> <st1:placetype w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">High</st1:placename> School</st1:placetype> District</span></st1:place><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">SUSPENSION
NOTICE<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Date:
6-14-07</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Partial
Days: 1<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Full Days:
2<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Grade
Level/Grade Year: 011/2007<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">ID #:
698822<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Since we at
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Kennedy</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">High school</st1:placetype></st1:place> are interested in maintain
ing our close relationship with the home, this notice is sent to inform you
that <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Zach Tyler</b> has been suspended
for: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">insubordination<o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Because
this represents a serious violation of our stanfards and of our education code <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">48900 k, </b>Zach has been suspended and
may return to school on<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> 4-21-07.<o:p></o:p></b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sincerely,<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(<st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">ind</st1:place></st1:state>eterminable
signature)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br /></div>
Attached: Statement by Zach Tyler<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I was called out at the beginning
of 3rd period. I was mad about that, because I already told the secretary that
I don’t like being called out of class. Not all my teachers post their homework
online so if I miss their lecture, I could miss homework information. A large
part of my grade is participation, and it suffers when I’m not in class. When I
went to see the attendance secretary, Ms.Peruvia, she said that I had two
offenses which would be on my permanent record. When I asked for verification,
she said that I should already know the policy, since it was explained to me
and she had documented it. When I figured out what she meant, I answered that I
didn’t check back into the office for my yellow “return” slip after returning
from the test. I told her that if she wanted proof I came back, she could see
my teacher’s attendance list, and that the policy didn’t matter because she
knew where I was, and that was all that counted. Then I also told her to stop
calling me out of class, since part of my grade is on partitipation and class
time was already ticking away.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
She answered that she did not like
my tone, and that she could call me out of class whenever she wanted. Then she
called Ms. Nasty, asking me to talk to her. Ms. Nasty and I also don’t get
along ever since she threatened me with a dress code violation which was fake,
since the outfit I wore broke no violations I had heard of or she could think
of. There is no official dress code, I already told her that. But she doesn’t
want to argue out points, and makes it clear that you must obey her way, or no
way. She talked to me as if I were a dog, motioning “come here” with her hand
and behaving very rudely. I had no desire to speak with her, because she wasn’t
the one who called me out of class this time. I was threatened with suspension.
I said I would only leave with Ms. Nasty if Ms. Peruvia would secure me an
appointment where we could come to an agreement on the issue of calling me out
of class. She would do no such thing, so they threatened to call the police. I
told them they could do what they wanted, because I wasn’t leaving until I got
that appointment. Ms. Nasty guarded the door and called in Mr. Brokeshaw, while
complaining about how I was wasting her time. Mr. Brokeshaw seemed visibly
upset.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
There were two police officers, Mr.
Linden and an unnamed balding one. They told me to move to the principal’s
room, but I declined because he was not where my problem was. I was forcefully
pulled out of the room. The unnamed officer was holding too tightly on my arm,
and I tried to loosen his grip by complaining of pain and moving my arm
slightly. He grabbed my arm harder, yelling at me, twisting it even though I
loudly complained it hurt my bones. In Mr. Harold’s office, the balding officer
told me to get into a chair. I did not want to sit down, so he yelled at me and
very roughly pushed me into the chair. He then proceeded to call me a “very
annoying problem.” He demanded to know my grades, and Mr. Harold made a
wavering motion with his hand. But I had no problems with my principal since he
was more professional. Mr.Harold was helpful and understanding, but I don’t
think there was much he could do about the secretaries. He doesn’t watch them.</div>roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-4372135793815938422011-02-14T06:10:00.000-08:002011-02-14T06:18:39.409-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 24<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Note:</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> Sorry if this totally clogged your inbox! And no, this is not the -end- of BYS. After counting the pages, I realized that if I keep posting sections like this, BYS will hit the SPAM filter. So, I calculated that if I post once a day, the whole thing will be up by the time February ends... marking the real end of BYS. So, it's on. No antisocial flakiness this time.</span><br /><br />Just as Zach left Johnson’s office, Nasty snapped her fingers at him. She didn’t say one word, just shoved another yellow note in his hands and told him that the attendance officer needed to see him.<br />“Attendance officer? You mean Ms.Peruvia, the <span style="font-style: italic;">attendance lady</span>?”<br />“The attendance officer. Get going, she’s very busy.”<br />“That’s what she’s paid for,” Zach thought to himself, as he headed over to her tiny office at the far side of the rectangular building.<br /><br />It all happened so quickly, but somehow it ended with Zach quietly crying in the office, sobbing that,<br />“I can’t go to Juvenile hall! What would I tell my cellmate? That I’m here because I refused to leave the office? I can’t go to Juvenile hall…”<br />The second officer stood up and left the office, only to be approached by a slender wide-eyed black woman who demand what was wrong and where her son was. He didn’t have to guess, he already knew whose mother she was.<br />“I’m sorry. Your son’s all right, nothing happened. Everything just happened so quickly.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-23079655903518668822011-02-14T06:06:00.000-08:002011-02-14T06:09:57.425-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 23Johnson breathed in deeply, took of his glasses, and rubbed the side of his forehead.<br />“I’ve checked the notes written about you and your record… you’ve been written up more than once. And even if Gentry knows his way around computers, I will let you in on a secret. The school keeps those records in written form, and if your future college calls us, we tell them about personal problems we have with you. That’s how, if you keep getting low grades, sitting in detention, and risking suspension, you could be throwing away your future.”<br />Zach frowned, blue eyes growing cloudy at the thought of a bleak future where it would just be him with his ideas, unable to change the world. Like that homeless man he saw on street the other day, standing outside the convenience store with “Jesus is Dead” stitched on the flea-bitten rug hanging over his cart— A statement ignored by people passing by, a look of silent death on his face. Was this Gentry’s fear, too? Growing old and haunted by missed opportunities, permanently stuck that moment in time when you realize your time of brilliance has passed?<br />That one brilliant moment.<br />“You have potential, Zach. You have potential to shine brightly if you do the right things. Your idealism should never get in the way of your education, because education is the key to social advancement. You need to approach the world more realistically if you want to become successful.”<br />“Why don’t you tell that to Gentry.”<br />Johnson made a face, then leaned his elbows down on the table.<br />“Do you know why the cameras in the office don’t work?”<br />“No.”<br />“Gentry would never have made it to the swim team without my help. During his freshman year he torched the office. He destroyed the cameras and every paper file, but no one ever suspected him— I made sure of that. I forced him to join the swim team, then had him lead a fundraiser to rebuild the office. Thousands of dollars of my hard-earned money and every legal resource I had went into my son’s clean record. I can’t remember how many times I’ve asked him why he did it.”<br /><br />Zach sunk low in his seat, and said in a near-whisper, “What did he say?”<br /><br />“He told me they should have been prepared, because you never know what happens. Even now he keeps a lighter on him, just to make me angry. But I’m not angry, Zach. I’m frustrated. Gentry lives to manipulate others… he likes to have power, but doesn’t know what to do with it because he has no goal. He also has no steady virtues to go by, but it’s not his fault he was born that way. Yet you can’t fix that, and you can’t fix him.”<br /><br />“I don’t want to fix him,” Zach protested “and that story doesn’t scare me. I like him the way he is. If you love someone, you take the dirt with the rest. You think I don’t know what you’re telling me? I do. I also know that he was there for me when no one else was. That he gives a fuck about me, and takes me seriously. Whatever bad parts he has, I can handle them. We fight because he knows me like he does, and that’s also why I love him. Because no one else is strong enough to take me on, and no one else cares enough to think about the things I say.”<br /><br />“Zach, you’re a sweet kid. You have all these ideas about what love is and isn’t… about what’s right and wrong. And you have hope that people will do something just because it’s logical and fair. But people aren’t always like that. Gentry isn’t just fighting you, he’s fighting everybody. Why? Because he wants to prove that he’s strong enough not to need anybody. You aren’t like that, Zach. You want people, you want to make connections, have friends, be loved completely. That’s perfectly normal, but not everyone is born that way. Some people are exceptions to the rule. Some people are born to be wrong. And no matter how sincere you are, there will come a time where will drift apart. Eventually you will get tired of his constant problems, his destructiveness, his anger. You want things, too, Zach… things he can’t or won’t give you.”<br /><br />“Yeah, well. You can’t just give up on someone because they don’t give you things.” Came the reluctant reply.<br /><br />“It’s your call, Zach... but don’t let your idealism get in the way of your education.” Johnson stood up and slid him the grade report, “It’s a harsh world out there, and if you don’t fight for yourself, no one will.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-72341474792672506182011-02-14T06:03:00.000-08:002011-02-14T06:05:51.897-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 22“It’s quite a leap from the D you had in your first quarter, yet I won’t ask how that happened because I have a feeling I already know. Generally, you get good grades. Your Estonian records show all-A’s. I find that remarkable, and proof of your capabilities. Yet during your freshman and sophomore years, you began to get C’s and B’s.”<br /><br />“I don’t know why you’re telling me what I already know.”<br /><br />“You have a lot of potential, Zach. You have the potential to be the star of this school. To be a leader.”<br /><br />“Why would I want to lead a bunch of morons?”<br /><br />“I have a question for you.” Johnson paused and leaned back into his seat, hands folded in his lap, “Why are you so defensive?”<br /><br />Zach sunk back in his seat, shrugged limply and said, “I’m not defensive.”<br /><br />“You talk quickly, and frown a lot. I can see it in your eyes, you are waiting for me to stop talking so you can say something. You may say you aren’t defensive, but your body language and your eyes say that you are. But I don’t blame you, it’s a tough world out there— What are you exactly, Zach? I’ve been to Estonia before, yet I’ve never seen anyone who looked like you.”<br /><br />“No two people look alike. But I know what you’re saying, since I hear it all the time. I’m mixed.”<br /><br />“Well, Zach. I don’t know how tolerant Estonia is, but in America, we have scholarship opportunities for this. You could be eligible for quite a few, and you already have the intelligence and capability to unite people. Biracial is the future.”<br />Zach eyed him warily, drawing back and crossing his arms over his chest.<br /><br />Johnson continued, “However, I believe you’re heading down the wrong path. Right now, you may care about clothing or gay rights, or about true love. But all that will change. Things come together and fall apart, experiences deepen your mind and shift your priorities. Yet whoever you are, it won’t matter if your grades are low. Your grades reflect how much you learn, and how much you understand what you learn. They allow you to become powerful enough to change things.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-9561837160487906872011-02-14T06:00:00.000-08:002011-02-14T06:02:49.867-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 21Johnson hesitated for a moment, but then nodded somberly. He had expected this as well.<br /><br />“I thought as much. I don’t think I’ll ever see it again, and I can only worry what will happen to it now. You probably gave it back to him for nothing, since you view protecting his secrets as more important than protecting yourself… or even what you believe in. You’re a good kid, Zach, you love with all you’ve got. If I had a friend like you in high school, who knows…” his voice drifted off.<br />“Back when I was your age, I strongly believed in a greater moral order. When injustice happened, I believed that someone would come and make it right. And when nothing happened, I thought life would end. But life didn’t stop for me; it doesn’t stop for anybody. My son… I realized early on what he is; that he is a homosexual. I tried my best to be a father to him, but I don’t think he ever accepted me. We have our differences, but I don’t and simply can’t hate him for the way he’s born. He’s my son.”<br />“He’s your son, and you raped him.”<br />“I understand I can’t change your mind.” He released the breath he'd been holding and leaned forward on his elbows, “I guess I could have been there for him more when I had the chance, when he first got involved with that older boy. Things got out of hand after that, but judging this isn’t as simple as deciding what’s ‘good’ and what’s ‘bad.’ I have my problems, Zach, and he has his. Two problems was all it took, and it’s what keeps us from healing and being the family we could be. It’s not right or wrong, it’s just how it is. I’m getting help, but he still needs to admit that he needs it.”<br />Zach shifted uncomfortably, and Johnson coughed. He leaned over to his computer, clicked a few keys, then leaned back as the printer began to buzz. He took a sip of water from the mug on his desk, then affirmatively said,<br />“I’m going to give you a copy of your grade transcript. Are you aware that you currently have a B+ in literature?”<br />“… No.” Zach said, startled, “I didn’t know.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-66372103704829461622011-02-14T05:57:00.001-08:002011-02-14T05:57:31.259-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 20“As you might be aware, I am your guidance counselor. And we need to have a relationship where you can trust me, and I can trust you. Do you trust me?”<br />“I don’t know you,” Zach drawled absently, “so I can’t trust you.”<br />Johnson nodded soberly.<br />He briefly eyed the belongings on his desk, making sure they were still in their place.<br /><br />“I’ll try this again.” He said patiently, “You aren’t a stranger to me, Zach. I’m fully aware of what my son is doing with you.”<br /><br />Zach again remained silent, because it was true. And there was nothing useful he could say at this point, when silence was run over by his wildly beating heart. It was a little eerie the way his voice had the same rhythm as Gentry’s, and how his eyes lit up in that same murky stare. They were the same smoldering dark he’d grown accustomed to, holding something wild about them. Gentry had that too, sometimes… as if there was something waiting to leap out, a word waiting to be shouted. Undoubtedly, this guy was Gentry’s father. Yet it still felt odd to think about Gentry as this guy’s son.<br />“…Oh.” Zach finally replied, sensing right after that his timing was probably off.<br />Johnson drew a long breath, rolled back his seat and stood up to close the door.<br />“Well, seeing as you won’t talk,” he drawled retaking his seat, “I hope that you will listen.”<br />Johnson sighed and leaned back, hands folded over his stomach.<br />“What you see in Gentry is what he wants you to see. And you’ve probably learned a few things about me, and that my family’s homelife isn’t perfect. I’ll admit, we’ve been through some tough times. But I still like to think that we’re a family.”<br /><br />“—You’re not.”<br /><br />Johnson’s eyes lit for a moment, yet his voice remained firm and even.<br />“Why would you think that?”<br />“… Families live together.”<br />Lee Johnson sighed.<br />“My son left home, and it’s pulling the family apart. But he decided that on his own, and I’ve given up asking why he does anything. Believe me, we both know that he can be convincing when he wants to. If he’d wanted to stay, he would have— he’s got a strong mind in him. But he also has problems, and don’t think for a second that just because he isn’t living with me that I don’t care about him. My wife and I were there for him before you knew who he was— and it hurts us as much as it hurts you to watch him destroy himself, knowing there’s nothing I can do. Yet he’s my son, and I know better than anyone that I can’t force him to come home.” Johnson took another deep breath, and softly added, “However, I don’t think that your apprehension towards me stems from that.”<br />Zach gazed at him critically. He turned the words over in his head, but couldn’t find any flaw. Just wild thoughts racing through his mind.<br />“Do you think I’m a monster?” asked Mr.Johnson, “a child molester?”<br />Zach’s mouth went dry.<br />Johnson gave an affirmative, close-lipped smile.<br />“I thought it would come down to this. There’s no use in skirting around the issue, so let’s get to the heart of the matter. I believe that you’ve come across a picture which belonged to me.”<br />“I did.” Zach replied without hesitation, “And that’s why I don’t believe you. You don’t care about him; you caused his problems. If you want that picture back, you’re not getting it.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-44578340888890618912011-02-14T05:54:00.000-08:002011-02-14T05:56:06.762-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 19“I would like to ask you something.”<br />Zach inhaled suddenly, and shot up to meet the man’s eyes.<br />He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. The secrets he’d learned were like a gag. He couldn’t talk about them, couldn’t act on them… all he could do was try to ignore the sick feeling which throbbed to life in his gut.<br /><br />Although the picture was no longer in his dresser drawer, it still lingered in his mind. Stale as ashes and heavier than smoke; he hadn’t been able to look directly at it, and yet he couldn’t forget what he’d seen. The bony angles distracted him from faces. It was the starkness of it which drew his mind away from the dark eyes and to the stiff body, eating away at the signs of life. It was a crime frozen on paper, an indelicate rendering of something which no one talked about in public. Something which always happened to other people, and was left to linger the dark corners of newspapers and the back of peoples’ minds. Knowing it existed was nothing like seeing it. The crime had happened before he had witnessed it, and now it couldn’t be helped. The past was past, life had moved on.<br />And he was as powerless now as he felt then.<br /><br />“Zach.”<br /><br />Johnson motioned for him to take a seat, which Zach silently did. The man opposite him took a deep breath and said,<br /><br />“I noticed you seem fearful around me. Even now, you’re fidgeting.”<br /><br />“Oh.”<br /><br />Zach immediately sat up a little straighter, and gave a simple nod to hide the fear in him. He reasoned he shouldn’t be scared, schoolishly reminding himself that pedophiles only targeted children, which he was not… He was not.roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-91139205505446523292011-02-14T05:51:00.000-08:002011-02-14T05:54:30.835-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 18“Zach.”<br />That unearthly voice jolted him from his reverie.<br />Mr.Lee Johnson stood in front of him, blocking out the fluorescent light. It beamed behind his thinning dark hair, which was severely combed in thin strands over his scalp, giving it a strange and severe kind of look.<br /><br />“Are you all right?”<br />Zach gawked at him. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he blurted out what came to mind:<br />“No.”<br />He instantly realized he had said the wrong thing, but it was too late to take it back now. Johnson was eying him firmly, churning out the words,<br />“I’d like to have a word with you… I sent that note.”<br /><br />Zach decided not to fight this one, and simply nodded slowly as he rose to his feet. He followed Johnson to his office, which hadn’t changed much since Nilla had occupied it. He slammed the door behind him, at which Johnson jumped and quietly snapped at him, “Don’t slam the door.”<br />“Sorry,” Zach murmured, although a part of him wasn’t. He liked slamming doors; it made him feel less angry. His gaze shifted around the room, taking in an empty goldfish bowl on top of blue file cabinet and a law degree in a gleaming silver frame.<br /><br />Slowly, Zach’s eyes drifted down to the steel-framed photo on the desk, idly guessing that the madly grinning woman was probably the guy’s wife, mainly because that kid next to her was definitely Gentry. Even though she was smiling, it looked very grotesque since her eyes were glaring out from beyond the frame. Her paste-colored arms were rigidly clasped around this ugly gremlin of a kid, who squinted at the camera with his weird old-man face. Those amber eyes hadn’t changed, not one bit. Staring out from under a gray hunting cap, peering over the coarse green scarf; murky then as they were now. It felt weird to think how this fantastically ugly gremlin was the same boy he had currently— well, fucked.<br />In fact… it was downright weird to think about it that way.roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-76181063376221365102011-02-14T05:48:00.000-08:002011-02-14T05:50:57.835-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 17Zach sighed quietly and truged to his chair outside the door, sourly taking a seat. It hurt to speak, but who cared. He’d talk anyway— He’d talk until his lips fell off to anyone who would listen. The office kept working, students passed by. Some stared, some didn’t. Some were turning in Valedictorian speeches. He hated sitting outside in the office like that, because he always felt like a criminal. At least, he looked like one, sitting in the office with a swollen mouth, seated next to people who were in trouble for one thing or another. Next to students with emotional issues who needed to see the counselor, and people thrown out of class for their disruptive behavior.<br /><br />“I’m not like them, though. I’m not here because I’m being punished for something wrong, I’m here because I chose to be. I was always here because I chose to be… for better or worse, I’m fighting for a reason.” And he would keep fighting; they would not change him.<br /><br />He told himself:<br /><br />“I’m here because if I don’t stand for what I believe, no matter how sore things get, no one else will.”<br /><br />Ms.Nasty walked by him, but didn’t look at him. Zach suspected that if she didn’t have anything mean to say, she wouldn’t say anything at all. Her gaze always shifted to avoid making eye contact with students, to avoid recognizing them. And keep from greeting them, because she often got their names mixed up. She only memorized the names of trouble-makers and honor students, and she would only acknowledge their existence if they stepped out of line--- and then it was to put them in their place. To enforce the dress code, school code, or whatever code she was supposed to enforce. In her line of duty, mingling with the lower subjects are was dangerous… as was acknowledging their existence, their feelings, or their point of view. Siding with students was siding with a threat; something volatile and difficult that needed to be monitored, overruled, undermined. Youth were radical, crazy teenagers--- could not be trusted.<br />It was easier to keep them in line and stay out of everything else.roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-46983309292833214092011-02-14T05:46:00.000-08:002011-02-14T05:48:32.849-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 16The nurse prescribed ice packs for everything.<br />Sore throat, sore mind, sore heart… an ice pack would fix it. And if an ice pack didn’t, she called the parents to tell them their child should get a Doctor’s opinion. Most people knew that she wasn’t a nurse at all, but the attendance lady, and that she couldn’t a headache from mental insanity. However, not having a trained nurse saved Kennedy a good deal of money, which was why The Principal was very pleased that he helped instate her, privately considering it his proudest moment. With ineffable glee he would sit in front of his computer, picking out colors for pie charts, wondering which color would best show the world what a success he was.<br /><br />There were few things that he loved more than to give monthly staff presentations about how he had saved the school 5% more money, and cut costs down 10%. In fact, there had been enough money left to decorate the nurse’s office with a plastic-covered medical-style couch, which impressed the Department of Education whenever they visited for their annual review. Very few schools could afford such a nice, official-looking couch. In fact, this couch was approved by NASA, which made it a valuable asset to the school. Best of all, it was easy to clean and, if needed, students could lie on it.<br />But he specifically told the nurse that this was only to be used in emergencies, since it could only fit one person. Therefore, students should instead sit on the blue plastic chairs lining the office walls, as Zach did until the nurse called him into her office.<br /><br />“Yes?” griped the nurse, glancing up at him with heavy lidded eyes. She was a large old woman with hair under her lip, a slightly darker color than that of her mousy brown bob. She was the kind of woman who kept people from going to the nurse, heavily cold and complacent.<br />“What is your problem?” she rasped, with a very strained low voice.<br />“You’re a nurse, you figure it out.” Zach spat at her, meanly enough to solicit a grunt.<br />With bovine lethargy, she hunched over the desk and raised her eyebrows.<br />“I can’t help you unless you say something is wrong.”<br />“My lip’s infected.”<br />“That’s all?”<br />She clicked her tongue and slowly rolled her chair back. She reached into the cabinet, past the aged cotton, and pulled out an ice pack.<br />“Take this…” She said, “And call your parents from the office phone.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-55211240933973728072011-02-14T05:14:00.000-08:002011-02-14T05:46:32.600-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 15<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Note:</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> V-day is here! Sorry if this clogs anyone's inbox.</span><br /><br />"Loser, loser, double loser, eating out of a TRASH CAN!!"<br /><br />Gentry was vaguely aware that his table-mates were throwing pieces of paper at each other. And that Kylie still shared his table, talking loudly, although she wouldn’t look at him. But at this point, he no longer pretended to pay attention.<br /><br />His mind switched off, and let nothing in or out. Soon he would graduate, and never see them again. All this conversation amounted to nothing. It never delved deep enough to establish a connection; they could never settle down long enough to listen. Because the moment you opened your ears to someone, you inevitably opened your heart--- a commitment they didn’t have the time or energy for.<br /><br />“Oh MY god NOWAY!”<br />“Awkward turtle…”<br /><br />A commitment. Gentry’s gaze lingered on Zach. He'd been staring at him for the last few minutes, remembering how many students came in that morning asking about the test location, only to leave with long, grim faces and timid resignation.<br />But not Zach.<br />No one else had hitchhiked to Church.<br />That took something.<br /><br />His fingers ached to brush over the nape over Zach's neck. Linger just long enough to nudge his shoulder and exchange warm glances; long enough to share silence from words unspoken that—<br />No. Gentry exhaled. He had to stop having these daydreams. They were what got him into this mess in the first place, the idle fantasy of that “what if…?”<br /><br />Fact was, Zach could handle himself.<br />He didn’t need it.<br /><br />So Gentry duly turned away--- yet it was too late. Zach had already spotted him. He put down his book and briskly walked over to the table, slamming his hands down and looking them all over, particularily Gentry. Kylie didn’t notice right away, she went on talking,<br />“… Ohmygod, I hate sluts…”<br />“---They hate you too.” Zach cut in, then leered over all of them, “Got something to say?”<br />“Um, were we talking to you?” Drawled Jenny. The table laughed, because laughing overpowered awkward silences.<br />Zach pulled away sourly, and turned to go back to his corner of the room.<br />“Zach.” Mr.Handson spoke up.<br />“Yeah?”<br />“I’ll need you to go to the office.”<br />“I didn’t do anything—”<br />“I know.” Said Handson, “But the note’s asking for you, something about a dress code violation.” He pushed a yellow note into his hand, “While you’re there, I suggest you go see the nurse. That lip ring looks atrociously swollen.”<br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]-->roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-42560914375300039612010-10-12T00:25:00.000-07:002011-02-13T05:18:26.748-08:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 14Zach returned to campus on foot, heart throbbing down low in his gut. He regretted the decision the second he entered math class, slinking into the back row. A half hour later, later his fingers tapped against the two sheets of completed busywork. It was called <span style="font-style: italic;">classwork</span>, but all it was actually <span style="font-style: italic;">busywork</span>— and not enough to keep his mind off the morning’s events. Shame hung in the back of his throat and the depths of his eyes, which restlessly scanned the posters on the wall.<br /><br />The Principal is Your Pal, next to a GSA poster and something about helping the people of Africa. Save the Congo Presents: Fight hunger in Africa. Free Pizza! Math felt especially long today.<br />The largest poster had a bunch of smiling people of different races, all standing together looking very serious underneath the bold headline “School is a Bully-free Zone: Do unto others as you want them to do unto you.”<br />“Bullshit.” Zach thought to himself, “How can they even hang this bullshit up.”<br /><br />Gentry watched him from across the room. Amused that Zach thought he was fooling anyone by sitting so quietly, frown carved into his brow.<br /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]-->roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-10171204877203573912010-09-10T23:05:00.000-07:002010-09-10T23:59:58.717-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 13The car screeched to a halt across two parking squares. Zach bolted out— feet pounding the asphalt— racing over cracks and parking lines, between parked cars, to the double-doors—<br /><br />“What are you trying to do?” The man popped up from out of nowhere, wedging himself between Zach and the Church door.<br />“I’m here for the Arithmetic Standards Scale,” Zach panted out, palms sweating against his clenched fingers.<br />“That test began ten minutes ago.” The man said, looking him over as if he had caught someone attempting armed robbery.<br />“— I still have time… here’s my ID…”<br />“I can’t let you in.”<br />“Look… it’s two and a half hours… I paid for this test, I have ID.”<br />“I can’t help you.”<br />Zach looked up again— and it hit him. He recognized that heavy-handed gait… the meaty face and its cowboy grin. It was familiar, even if he now wore one of those official-looking nametags that marked him as a “test helper.” A mark of distinction.<br />“Can’t, or won’t?”<br />“You should’ve been on time.” The man drawled, “There’s nothing I can do if you aren’t on time.”<br />Zach caught his breath, then looked him in the eye and said,<br />“Yeah, you can’t do nothing. That’s all you’ll ever do.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-76367003226551357752010-08-24T00:15:00.000-07:002010-08-24T00:39:56.807-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 12Zach raced out of the office and onto the curb. No sooner had the door slammed, then the whole office rushed to the window. They stole glances on their way to the water cooler, made excuses to carry around papers, or just planted themselves in front of the window, sipping lukewarm coffee.<br /><br />“Are we just going leave him there?” a staff member, Mr. Brokeshaw, asked Ms.Nasty. “I mean, I can drive him?”<br />“No; he has to learn to read instructions. This is <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> our problem.”<br /><br />Gentry looked down as the man walked past his door, then stole a look out the window.<br />“Moron.” he thought to himself, watching Zach pace back and forth while talking on his cellphone. Was this really worth watching?<br />Gentry just shook his head, and went back to drawing circles. His father sat on the other side of the room, loudly typing on a keyboard.<br />“There’s no signal on that part of campus. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?”<br />“He’s not a tool.” Gentry replied without glancing up.<br /><br />“I know; I see him …” Ms.Nasty said to the principal, “I’m not sure what he’s doing.”<br />At this, Gentry stole another glance out the window.<br />In the middle of the street, Zach stood with arms outstretched, as cars either swerved around and swooshed past him.<br />“This is ridiculous…” Gentry murmured under his breath, shaking his head. He was about to look away again, when a car screeched to a halt. Zach leaned in to the windshield, then climbed in in to the passenger seat— just as Ms.Nasty raced outside to holler how standing in the street was against the rules.<br /><br />But the car had already sped off. Gentry held a bemused silence, as his eyes watched it disappear along the horizon. Johnson also stared, closing his mouth with a deep breath and furrowed brow, “He’s something else.”<br /><br />“He’s mine.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-1231970597740830042010-08-10T00:20:00.000-07:002010-08-10T00:41:56.956-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 11<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Note:</span> Thanks for putting up with my insanity.</span><br /><br />At that moment, the glass door swung open and slammed shut.<br />Secretary A gave a wry nod towards Secretary B, who quickly glanced up. No one could look away once Zach entered the room—<br /><br />And the moment he walked through that door, Gentry’s heart skipped a beat.<br /><br />He looked him over once, peered down, then stole another look. He licked at his dry lips, and began drawing circles on his notepad.<br /><br />Behind the glasses, high above polite conversation, underneath the creased pants and knee-length skirts… crept unspoken fears and desires. A good secretary was seen, not heard. But the office talked— about others. Through whispers, knowing glances, and the click-clack of private e-mails being written and sent. This was how they maintained a studied silence in his presence, even as they wondered things they would never ask him. What kind of people parented this problem child, any problem child? And every school had a problem child, or a child the office had problems with.<br /><br />And the office never changed— it had always been a place where memories lingered like a bad smell. High school was not a place for growth or experimentation unless it fit the prescribed categories of normal growth and acceptable experimentation. There were charts and forms for that… everything you didn’t know would be held against you for future reference—<br />Or used for water cooler conversation. Gentry looked up again, and perched his head on one first.<br /><br />Zach asked something to the receptionist, and she leaned over the counter just as Ms.Nasty was moving past.<br />“The Arithmetic Standards Scale?” Nasty said loudly, “I don’t know where that is.”<br />“It’s today, don’t you have anywhere you can check?”<br />“Do you have that booklet you were supposed to pick up, along with your test ID?”<br />Zach promptly turned away and pulled it from his backpack, pushing it into her hands.<br />She flipped through it casually, then laughed sharply.<br />“You haven’t even <span style="font-style: italic;">looked</span> through this?”<br />“Where is the test? Which room?”<br />“It isn't <span style="font-style: italic;">here</span>. It’s at the Holy Summit Church.”<br />“--- What the hell’s a math test doing in a Church?”<br />“It was your job to read the book.” Laughed Ms.Nasty, “What time is it? Ohh. 7:45. That means the test will start in ten minutes … at, 7:55. Good luck getting there.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-79159269664727495212010-05-29T03:50:00.000-07:002010-05-29T03:55:19.850-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 10<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Note:</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> It's the 251st post! erpotrtyrtohyrotihopi!~!!</span><br /><br />Drama started out of boredom.<br />Few people were more bored than the office personnel. They sat listlessly in their corner rooms and blue-walled cubicles, watering their undergrown office plants and drinking watered-down coffee to keep from falling asleep.<br />School was boring. Down the road, most of their work didn’t matter. Nobody ever won a Nobel Peace Prize for office work. All they could do is try to make someone fail, or help them pass. How many people came in to say Thank You? None.<br />To keep things interesting, they reinterpreted rules and created Red Tape.<br /><br />“Yes, I’ve noted that on my account balance I’m being charged $25 for student health service fee here?”<br />“Yes, we always charge that.”<br />“I want to waive this fee since my daughter already has health coverage… through my job.”<br />“Sir, does your daughter depend exclusively upon prayer for healing?”<br />“… No, not really.”<br />“Then I can’t help you.”<br />“Please, I just want to cancel this fee… My family is religious. Does that help?”<br />“Sir, you can only cancel it if you depend on prayer for healing, and you must provide a completed Application for that over at the District Office. And to go there, you must have a written statement from your religious denomination affirming that you rely on faith for healing.”<br />“… But no Rabbi will sign a paper for faith-based healing! Jews don’t believe in that.”<br />“Then I can’t help you.”<br />“— We <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> believe in <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> paying unnecessary fees.”<br />“Sir… there is nothing I can do.”<br />“Look. My daughter’s already insured… is there any form for that?”<br />“Sir, I can’t help you.”<br />“You can't help <span style="font-style: italic;">yourself</span>!” the man huffed and stormed out the door.<br />The woman shrugged back in her seat, her face impassive with heavy-handed certainty that she hadn’t done anything wrong… just following procedure.<br />“Can you believe how rude that man was? People these days...” she drawled with annoyance. “Where do they get their manners from?”<br />“At least he isn't claiming to be some <span style="font-style: italic;">special exception</span>.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-53934394782242875392010-05-24T23:59:00.000-07:002010-05-25T00:04:23.194-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 9Wednesday dawned, heavy on the Horizon.<br /><br />A stench hung in the air that day, and no one was sure where it came from. It was a greasy smell which blanketed the campus and trickled into everything it touched, including air that was so cold and dry that breathing resulted in a sickly burning sensation. Every so often, cold winds blew apart the low-hanging clouds whose silver-gray lining smothered the sun, and brought out the few hesitant rays of sunlight that luke-warmed the cement. The sun occasionally peered though holes in the cloud-blanket, casting airy strokes of light over the blue-brick office building--- before the blanket of steely gray cloud smothered it again. This weather did what it wanted, no matter the season. Gentry called it<br /><br />Weird weather.<br /><br />He watched it unfold from the office window. Raindrops flecked the glass, and poured in through the small crack Gentry had made on the side. Outside, storm clouds multiplied to block out the remaining light. Inside, pale white florescent beamed down on his damp red hair.<br /><br />Here, there was no weird weather, just unnatural lighting, and the smell of stale mints currenting through the blue-carpeted spaces through a dusty old ventilation system. The office was a severely lit den in a constant state of stuck.<br /><br />Gentry often lost track of time.<br /><br />He worked alongside his father, quietly widening the crack in the glass by poking the tip of a pencil in it. Neither had spoken a word since the shift had started. Occasionally there was a rustling of papers or a climper of keys, the crackle of a walkie-talkie.<br />Gentry sat at a table beside his father’s, elbows on the surface and head resting on one fist. His free hand poking and prodding at that tiny crack.<br />The rain had started to loudly tap against the glass… slowly, rhythmically. Zach was coming.roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-78703404689627515362010-05-22T04:42:00.000-07:002010-05-22T04:46:30.795-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 8Zach stared down at Ms.Nasty, who glanced up at him with sharply raised eyebrows.<br />“State your first and last name.”<br />“Tyler, Zach.” murmured Zach.<br />“I’ll need to see some ID.”<br />Zach nodded curtly and reached into his backpack, but noted with barely-concealed annoyance that the ID wasn’t there. It was probably in his locker, exchanging comments with his algebra book. The line behind him suddenly felt a whole lot longer... the foggy clouds that escaped with each murmur seemed to weigh down on him.<br />“I don’t have it. Can I go to my locker and get it?”<br />“Sure. But you’ll have to wait in line again.”<br />Zach eyed her with apparent disbelief.<br />“Come on… I’m obviously Zach Tyler. Can I just get it anyway?”<br />“I’ll need to see ID.”<br />Zach exhaled forcefully, then leaned with his fists on the table to leer straight into Ms.Nasty’s eyes.<br />“Look. You know who I am. I’m <span style="font-style: italic;">Zach Tyler.</span> You always manage to find me when you don’t like my clothes, and you definitely recognize me now. I paid $75 for this test, and no one’s desperate or stupid enough to steal my identity.”<br />“I can’t do anything unless you show me ID.”<br />“I can bring it to your office later. Would that work?”<br />Someone pushed Zach aside and flipped his ID. Ms.Nasty handed the girl the ID sticker as she coolly explained to Zach in her slow pitched drawl,<br />“The time to pick up your test pass is right now, during lunch.”<br />As the girl left, Zach pulled back to the table.<br />“This is freaking ridiculous. I know my ID number by heart, 698822, you can ask anyone—”<br />“I can’t make a special exception for you.”<br />“I <span style="font-style: italic;">am</span> a <span style="font-style: italic;">special exception</span>. Woman, look at me! How many people look like me? How many other biracial Estonian gays are there in this school? I’m alone here, it’s just me!”<br />Nasty opened her mouth, gaping for a moment before replying,<br />“I’ll need to see ID.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360520570955724036.post-59709103336112456362010-05-19T22:48:00.000-07:002010-05-19T22:50:06.591-07:00Because You Suck: Chapter 22: Part 7It was dark out, and cold for for a summery Tuesday. Tree branches stretched out like tall and lonely shadows, creeping low in a pale gray sky and hanging over the line that snaked beneath them. Zach looked up at them, and wondered what would happen to forests if trees were people. Maybe they would get up and walk away, tell people, “We’re not gonna stand where you put us!” Maybe they would revolt, and people people would declare a war on trees, until someone would start a Tree Rights campaign. Maybe then, if the trees won, people would talk about their tree friends and “tree experiences” in their college applications. If trees could talk, they would probably laugh and point their branches at the line which snaked past rectangular blue office building. Trees never took standardized tests. Then again, trees also got chopped down.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It was so damn cold.</span><br /><br />Couldn’t have been higher than 50 degrees, where the hell was that warm summer weather? Even the season seemed to be cheating, going back on the weatherman’s promises. Well, Zach decided, it better get its act together before Nationals. If there was one person in this school who could stand up to the weather, it was Zach Tyler.<br /><br />Today he stood in the middle of the line, shivering in a t-shirt, because <span style="font-style: italic;">today</span> was the day to get your passes for the Arithmetic Standards Scale. And today people would wait over half an hour to get an ID for several more hours of standardized torture. That privilege, that mind-numbing rite of passage, made you a Leader of Tomorrow…<br /><br />“Next.”roxythekillerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01457470487477183320noreply@blogger.com0