Battle Of The Sexes
©Bonez2000
Chapter 1
"Miss Young! Are you paying attention?!" Some short, fat, gray-haired, poor-excuse for an English teacher bellowed from the front of the room. I sat up quickly in my chair, before sliding back down and muttering. "No, ma'am. I'm not." Folding my arms across my chest, I closed my eyes and went right back to sleep. Wasn't even the end of the first day of school and all of my teachers had somehow learned my name. I guess I should introduce myself. My name is River Young. Crazy isn't it? Native American descent will do that to you. I guess it'd be better if I had the dark tan skin and long black hair. Unfortunately, I don't. I have blonde hair, with red tints, and these dull gray eyes. Oh well. I inherited the thin figure, so that's alright I suppose. I yawned. Was that the bell? Suppose so. Next period? Art. Finally, a class I can use! I grabbed my black leather backpack and headed out the door. Not before receiving a scolding from the 4th teacher in a row, of course...(what class was that?)
"Okay- is everyone here?" The tall skinny man asked from the front of the room. He had a scrawny beard and mustache and wore all black. He reminded me a lot of an old beatnik from back in the day. His name was Mr. Dubuoi. From France, I suppose. He was the drama teacher too. I had that next period. Anyways, he stood there, tall and lanky, just looking at us for a minute. Then he gave us an assignment! "I will hand you each a slip of paper with an art assignment on it. You will complete it by Friday and turn it in." Today is Wednesday. I have 3 days to do an art assignment AND remember to get all those dumb class rules sheets signed. Yeah right. That's not going to be happening any time soon. "Here you go, Miss Young." He handed me a slip of paper. Shit. He already knew my name too. Oh well. He was the one teacher I didn't mind knowing my name. Guess I should read my stupid assignment. Design a CD cover for a popular boy band.
"Mr. Dubuoi!! Mr. Dubuoi!" My hand shot straight up into the air. He came over slowly and calmly. "Yes? Is there something wrong?" He asked as slow as he walked. "Yes there is. I refuse to do an assignment about some dumb boy band! I hate boy bands. I don't even know of any of their names right off the top of my head!" There was no way in Hell he could get me to do this assignment. Was he mental or something?? Cant he just look at what I'm wearing and say 'Oh, she doesn't like that kind of bubble gummy pop crap'!??
"You get to design a CD cover for a boy band??" A squeaky voice asked from across the room. I looked over. There sat Ms. Suzie Q. The head cheerleader, drill team girl. I nodded. She grabbed at her chest before sighing. "Oh what I wouldn't give to have your assignment. I love boy bands." The teacher looked at her, then looked at me. "Perhaps you could-" I held my breath as the teacher talked. This was it. He was going to let us trade! "Perhaps you could name off a few bands for Miss Young to use in her assignment then." "Damn." Yes, I said damn, outloud, in front of the teacher. He only smiled, like all along it had been his plan to ruin my day. I scowled at him.
"Backstreet Boys." Suzie Q said. I don't think Suzie Q is her real name. I don't think I've ever heard her real name. Either way- Backstreet Boys? Oh gag me. They're the ones that run around in women's clothing singing about being bigger than life or whatever. I've seen the video...once. Parts of it atleast. My cousin used to like one of them. "There you have a band now, Miss Young. Enjoy." Mr. Dubuoi walked off and on over to a few other raised hands in the room. I looked at Suzie. She was glaring at me like I had deliberately picked this assignment. I'd give my right arm to let her have my dumb slip of paper. I ripped out a sheet of paper and began to draw. I love to draw, but this assignment was pissing me off. I guess it was showing, because Mr. Dubuoi finally just brought the pencil sharpener over to me after my 5th visit to his desk. After an eternity, the bell rang. As usual, I was the last out of class. "Mr. Dubuoi, is there any way I can get a new assignment? I really know nothing about boy bands and I'd rather know about the subject I was designing for." I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. I hate it when I do that, but it's a habit when I get bored or nervous. Was I nervous? God, what for? Oh well.
"No." Mr. Dubuoi removed his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "I did not think that you would be the type to like boy bands, but we often learn from life's hardest challenges." "It's the first day of school, Mr. D. I wont learn anything from life until atleast next semester." I replied. The hem of my shirt was coming undone. I needed to quit that. "I plan on changing that. Now go on. You'll be late for your next class." Mr. Dubuoi pointed to the door, shooing me out. "You are my next class. I have drama too." I said, heaving my backpack onto the other arm. "Are we meeting in the auditorium?" Mr. Dubuoi smiled and nodded. I headed out of class. Walking down the crowded hall, I felt my face flushing. I really was pissed about that assignment. Why couldn't I have designed for the music groups I like? Why'd it have to be the bouncy blonde-dyed-brunette, short skirt girl type music? Suzie Q. is going to kill me.
"Alright. Welcome to Theater. You have all had previous experience in acting, which is why you have been chosen to take this class. I will not tolerate babies, so if you don't think you can handle the life of an actor for the next year- leave now." Mr. Dubuoi was onstage talking to those in the audience when I walked in. I was late due to the quick stop to the nurse's office I had to make after punching my fist into a locker. "So glad you decided to join us, Miss Young." Mr. Dubuoi said, singling me out, pissing me off more. "So glad you decided to notice, Mr. Dubuoi." I replied automatically in a snappy tone. He merely nodded and continued with his speech. "There will be casting directors and many others coming, visiting and just sitting in on our classes. If you get stage fright- get out now...." I can't remember how long Mr. Dubuoi talked. Either way, I dozed off somewhere during it and didn't wake up until I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Class is over, Miss Young. You can go home now." Mr. Dubuoi said, shifting his brown leather brief case from hand to hand.
"Okay, thanks. Aren't you going to lecture me?" I asked, totally shocked by the fact that he wasn't yelling at me. "Lecture you for what, Miss Young? Sleeping during a first-day-of-school speech? You've been in drama long enough. I know I'm a new teacher and you don't know me yet- but I think I've got you figured out. You will continue to sleep during my class until I begin something that either, a.) affects you directly, or b.) you're interested in.
Am I right?" I nodded. "I thought so, now go on home." So I went. I mean, what else would I have done? Stayed the night at the school? I'd rather be dead. I just walked out to the parking lot, hopped in my really really sweet 2000 silver Plymouth Sebring Convertible, and drove on home, Orgy blaring in my ears. I get home, and thank God, mom isn't here. I race up to my room (after grabbing a snack) and set my backpack down beside my desk. "I should finish my homework now so I can go out with Amber tonite." Amber is my best friend. She and I are like, night and day. (I'm night, she's day.) Its crazy. But we get along and that's all that matters. So, I grabbed my backpack and pulled out the stack of homework I had. First day of school and I'm using the work "stack" to describe my load of homework. How screwy is that? Isn't that against the law somewhere in America? I sat there for Lord knows how long, just staring at a piece of blank paper in front of me. A Backstreet Boys cd cover? This sucks. I glanced down at my bruised hand from the locker fight I got in. Surprisingly my hand was already turning colors from the punch. It was slightly swollen and all black and blue. Hmmm, now, what was I going to do about this dumb cover?
