taryn - CH. II

***i'm not sure i'm completely satisfied with this chapter. i may do some editing to it later, but here's what i have for now***

CH. II

            By the time second period, geometry, let out, I wanted to put a knife to my throat. I had my two worst subjects, science and math, back to back, from 7:30-10:30 A.M. That is not how I wanted to start my day. But, my third period was English, my favorite and strongest subject.

            I slipped into Mrs. Barns Honors English class right as the last rang. I had slipped outside to smoke a cigarette, and then got lost trying to find this class. Damn, I wish schools still had designated smoking areas.

            “Ah, you must be Taryn,” Mrs. Barns said.

            “Yeah,” I replied. I’d had an iron grip on the strap of my messenger bag, not knowing what kind of people would be in this class. But, everyone in this class looked either plain-jane or daily-wedgie nerdy. That calmed me and I loosened my grip on my bag. I could handle these people, no problem.

            “You can take a seat over there, behind Nolan,” Mrs. Barns instructed. Nolan was one of the daily-wedgie kids, but he greeted me with a shy smile when I sat down behind him. I liked knowing that I had at least one class with people who didn’t judge me for being goth because they knew exactly how it felt to be picked on by the “popular” kids. Sadly, though, those so-called popular kids usually made some kind of deal with the nerds and janes, that they wouldn’t pick on them as long as they stayed away from me. I don’t blame them for agreeing, I just wish some of them would have a little more backbone. I was fine being a loner; I had been almost all my life. The one time I did have a good friend was back in fourth grade. Her name was Sara. She was a small, chubby girl with red hair, freckles and glasses who got picked on by everyone. Except me. I remember how nice it was to have someone to talk to about, well, anything. But after fourth grade her dad got transferred and they had to move. We stayed in touch for a few weeks, and then I never heard from her again.

            “So where are you transferring from, Taryn?” Mrs. Barns asked. She sat on a stool at the front of the class, an I’m-waiting-for-an-answer expression on her face.

            “Arizona, originally. But I’ve lived in many different places, the latest being here, Colorado.”

            “That sounds exciting!”

            “Seven schools in four years? Not really,” I replied grimly. It was hard enough always being the odd one, the weird one, the freaky “I bet she worships the devil!” chick without constantly having to switch schools so mom and I could move in her latest “lover.”

            “Oh, my, well, that does sound difficult. I hope you get to stay here. I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends.” She flashed me a fake I’m-a-teacher-I’m-supposed-to-be-encouraging smile. The one good thing about constantly switching schools? I learned really fast how to read through to peoples’ real feelings.

* * *

            I found out that we were reading Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn. Great. I’ve read this book so many times and every time I hate it even more. As Mrs. Barns rambled on about Huck and his antics, my mind drifted. I was thinking about Draven, and how I was going to see him tonight. I hadn’t seen him in a week because he had to drive to Colorado. That was probably the most amazing thing about Draven: whenever I had to move to a new state, he packed up and moved, too. He was a highly demanded photographer, so he never had problem finding work. I loved him so much and the fact that he always moved with me, even if it took a week or so, proved how much he loved me. Sadly, my band couldn’t constantly move, too. Yeah, they were all out of their parent’s house, but some were in college and none of them had the money to constantly move, college or not. So we have to practice over webcam. We haven’t had a real band rehearsal with all of us together in years. As I was thinking about seeing Draven tonight, I remembered it was going to be freezing when I met up with him in our new spot in the woods tonight. He’d texted me the place he’d picked –he always picks them– and I looked up where it was and at the weather forecast on my phone and it was going to be cold. I wouldn’t be able to wear something sexy and show off how much skinner I’ve gotten.

            “Fuck.” The whole class looked at me.

            “Excuse me?” Mrs. Barns said, hands on her wide hips. Shit, I didn’t realize I had said that out loud.

            “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. I had no idea what she was talking about with Huck Finn, so I couldn’t justify me swearing as an educational thing.

            “Are you paying attention, Taryn?” Mrs. Barns’ eyes became slits, glaring at me. And the bad opinion of me forms, once again.

            “Yes ma’am,” I replied, nodding, smiling, and lying through my teeth. She “harrumph-ed” and went back to the lesson. I quietly banged my head against my desk again and again.

* * *

            By the time the school day finally ended, I’d gotten two detentions. One for spending lunch behind a stairwell reading Marilyn Manson’s The Long Hard Road Out of Hell and drinking a Rockstar instead of eating in the cafeteria, and two for being “a mother’s worst nightmare,” according to my Honors History class teacher. Whatever. I scheduled them for next week, and when the last bell rang I pushed my way through the mass of students waiting for their parents, trying to get to their cars or talking beside their respective buses, put on my big, over the ear, green Misfits headphones, stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and started the walk home.