Vaulter
February 14th, 2010, 06:33 PM
I used to write long, crappy stories (My longest is a 50 page story that was supposed to be over 200, but i realized how shitty it was so i stopped writing it.) Now im wondering if this one is worth continuing or if i put to much stupid things in it.
Heres the first few pages, sorry if the formatting gets f-ed up.
Nick!” A voice erupted through the blackness of my sleep, “You’re going to be late for school, get your but up!”
I rolled over and pulled a body pillow over my exposed ear. Today was the first day of my senior year of high school. Joy. All everyone ever said was that senior year was supposed to be my best year of high school, but seeing as how my first two went, I didn’t think senior year was going to have to work to hard to top it. My school district used a Junior High system, so I had gotten to skip the awkwardness of freshman year, but the seniors that year had made up for it doubly my first year of true high school. Sophomore year had been a year pushed around and hazed by upperclassmen. I had been especially susceptible to it due to my small size. Sophomore year I had topped out at around five foot four, one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, and a voice that seemed to squeak with every other word.
Junior year had been a little better, with one less class above me to be picked on
by, but I was still small, so my self esteem was battered to a pulp by the seniors exploring their new found superiority. Finally, senior year was here, and I was Five foot Eleven, 125 pounds of skinny, and not feeling ready for what lay ahead of me, so when my mom started banging on the door the first day of school, it was all I could do to get out of bed and into the shower.
After getting clean under the steaming water I turned the knob to as cold as I could stand. The freezing water ran down my body, and I could almost feel the line of where the hot water was being pushed down by the cold. I kept it that way for about a minute before I turned of the shower and dried myself with a fluffy towel that seem to leave me wet even after a vigorous rubbing. I figured if started the day with a cold shower the day could only get better.
I drove to school in the car I had manage to scrape up enough money to buy with a summer job and the small amounts my parents had given me to do work around the house. My battered Nissan 240sx was a dump, but ran like a champion, and for the $1500 I had paid for it that’s all that really mattered. I arrived at the school and almost parked in my normal spot from the previous year when I realized that I was a senior, and could move to the coveted seniors parking lot, with quicker access to the gates for lunchtimes escapes. The closest parking spot was right next to an almost double parked white truck and a curb, but I took it anyway, squeezing my import car into the spot by romping the corner of cement and settling into it quickly. My mind ran through the various things I wanted to call the driver of the truck as I grabbed my binder and got out of my car, pausing to lock the door behind me. My schedule was full of not so fun classes this year, another thing that made me dubious of the superiority of senior year. It went something like:
A Hour: None
1st hour: Trigonometry
2nd hour: Spanish III
3rd hour: Study Hall
LUNCH
4th hour: Creative Writing
5th hour: AP Government
6th hour: Physical Education
I ran through the list several more times in my mind, thinking about how I might be able to convince my dad to let me drop a few classes that weren’t necessary for me to graduate. All the excuses I created in my mind seemed reasonable, but then I realized I was trying to reason with my parents, and that was nearly impossible when it came to things about education, namely my education. The bell rang for school to start, and my first day started.
My Trig teacher lectured me for being late, then lectured the class about what she expected from us, passed out some papers our parents were supposed to sign, then we were off to our next class. By the end of Spanish I had been able to turn off my brain and the rest of the day flew by, with boring classes blending together until I reached gym. I’ve never really liked PE classes. The idea of being around a bunch of jocks trying to display their athletic abilities during a game of tackle football made me a little bit insecure, even with this past year’s growth and me filling out a bit.
The school had called my house during the summer and let me know I was expected to bring gym clothes and dress out the first day of school, so after changing and receiving a locker assignment from a coach I went into the main gym of the school and slouched onto the bleachers that lined the walls. Groups of people slowly trickled into the gym, people gathering with friends or just people they knew until our coach joined us and had us all sit on the bleachers I was already sitting on. He began to speak about the sports we would be playing this year, and what he expected of us, but once again I toned out the world and stared blankly ahead. That is until the girls PE class joined us in the gym.
Gaggles of talking girls started funneling into the gym from the opposite side of the guys locker rooms, bouncing and laughing with each other. Heads turned towards them, some names were called to various friends on either side, and both the girls and boys coaches tried to quiet their respective groups. I paid no attention to the noises around me. My eyes were locked onto the most beautiful girl in the group.
I had had a crush on Alexandria Brown since the seventh grade, when we had shared an English class. I sat behind her the whole year in that class, staring at her light brown hair that, even when straightened seemed to have a slight wave to it. Those days had been filled me stuttering every time she turned around and looked at me with her light blue eyes, usually to ask if she could copy the homework from the previous night. I would splutter a “yes” and hand her my papers for her to copy before the teacher started class. She’d been in at least one of my classes since that one every year, and our relationship had stayed pretty much the same, with her borrowing my notes or copying my work, and I would do whatever she asked. This year I hadn’t noticed if she was in any of my other classes but this one, but I had put myself on auto pilot since second hour Spanish. I tried to think if I had seen her in any of my classrooms earlier that day, but my line of thought was cut through by a voice saying my name.
“Nick!” My head snapped up from the tip of the shoe I had been staring at. Toned legs reached up from the ground topped by a tight butt covered in short girls gym shorts. My eyes continued upward to a loose-ish white shirt that was covering what a knew to be a flat stomach and led up to a round chest. My eyes finally found the head of the five foot four pixie that stood in front of me. The coach had stopped talking to us and was discussing something with the girls head coach.
Heres the first few pages, sorry if the formatting gets f-ed up.
Nick!” A voice erupted through the blackness of my sleep, “You’re going to be late for school, get your but up!”
I rolled over and pulled a body pillow over my exposed ear. Today was the first day of my senior year of high school. Joy. All everyone ever said was that senior year was supposed to be my best year of high school, but seeing as how my first two went, I didn’t think senior year was going to have to work to hard to top it. My school district used a Junior High system, so I had gotten to skip the awkwardness of freshman year, but the seniors that year had made up for it doubly my first year of true high school. Sophomore year had been a year pushed around and hazed by upperclassmen. I had been especially susceptible to it due to my small size. Sophomore year I had topped out at around five foot four, one hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, and a voice that seemed to squeak with every other word.
Junior year had been a little better, with one less class above me to be picked on
by, but I was still small, so my self esteem was battered to a pulp by the seniors exploring their new found superiority. Finally, senior year was here, and I was Five foot Eleven, 125 pounds of skinny, and not feeling ready for what lay ahead of me, so when my mom started banging on the door the first day of school, it was all I could do to get out of bed and into the shower.
After getting clean under the steaming water I turned the knob to as cold as I could stand. The freezing water ran down my body, and I could almost feel the line of where the hot water was being pushed down by the cold. I kept it that way for about a minute before I turned of the shower and dried myself with a fluffy towel that seem to leave me wet even after a vigorous rubbing. I figured if started the day with a cold shower the day could only get better.
I drove to school in the car I had manage to scrape up enough money to buy with a summer job and the small amounts my parents had given me to do work around the house. My battered Nissan 240sx was a dump, but ran like a champion, and for the $1500 I had paid for it that’s all that really mattered. I arrived at the school and almost parked in my normal spot from the previous year when I realized that I was a senior, and could move to the coveted seniors parking lot, with quicker access to the gates for lunchtimes escapes. The closest parking spot was right next to an almost double parked white truck and a curb, but I took it anyway, squeezing my import car into the spot by romping the corner of cement and settling into it quickly. My mind ran through the various things I wanted to call the driver of the truck as I grabbed my binder and got out of my car, pausing to lock the door behind me. My schedule was full of not so fun classes this year, another thing that made me dubious of the superiority of senior year. It went something like:
A Hour: None
1st hour: Trigonometry
2nd hour: Spanish III
3rd hour: Study Hall
LUNCH
4th hour: Creative Writing
5th hour: AP Government
6th hour: Physical Education
I ran through the list several more times in my mind, thinking about how I might be able to convince my dad to let me drop a few classes that weren’t necessary for me to graduate. All the excuses I created in my mind seemed reasonable, but then I realized I was trying to reason with my parents, and that was nearly impossible when it came to things about education, namely my education. The bell rang for school to start, and my first day started.
My Trig teacher lectured me for being late, then lectured the class about what she expected from us, passed out some papers our parents were supposed to sign, then we were off to our next class. By the end of Spanish I had been able to turn off my brain and the rest of the day flew by, with boring classes blending together until I reached gym. I’ve never really liked PE classes. The idea of being around a bunch of jocks trying to display their athletic abilities during a game of tackle football made me a little bit insecure, even with this past year’s growth and me filling out a bit.
The school had called my house during the summer and let me know I was expected to bring gym clothes and dress out the first day of school, so after changing and receiving a locker assignment from a coach I went into the main gym of the school and slouched onto the bleachers that lined the walls. Groups of people slowly trickled into the gym, people gathering with friends or just people they knew until our coach joined us and had us all sit on the bleachers I was already sitting on. He began to speak about the sports we would be playing this year, and what he expected of us, but once again I toned out the world and stared blankly ahead. That is until the girls PE class joined us in the gym.
Gaggles of talking girls started funneling into the gym from the opposite side of the guys locker rooms, bouncing and laughing with each other. Heads turned towards them, some names were called to various friends on either side, and both the girls and boys coaches tried to quiet their respective groups. I paid no attention to the noises around me. My eyes were locked onto the most beautiful girl in the group.
I had had a crush on Alexandria Brown since the seventh grade, when we had shared an English class. I sat behind her the whole year in that class, staring at her light brown hair that, even when straightened seemed to have a slight wave to it. Those days had been filled me stuttering every time she turned around and looked at me with her light blue eyes, usually to ask if she could copy the homework from the previous night. I would splutter a “yes” and hand her my papers for her to copy before the teacher started class. She’d been in at least one of my classes since that one every year, and our relationship had stayed pretty much the same, with her borrowing my notes or copying my work, and I would do whatever she asked. This year I hadn’t noticed if she was in any of my other classes but this one, but I had put myself on auto pilot since second hour Spanish. I tried to think if I had seen her in any of my classrooms earlier that day, but my line of thought was cut through by a voice saying my name.
“Nick!” My head snapped up from the tip of the shoe I had been staring at. Toned legs reached up from the ground topped by a tight butt covered in short girls gym shorts. My eyes continued upward to a loose-ish white shirt that was covering what a knew to be a flat stomach and led up to a round chest. My eyes finally found the head of the five foot four pixie that stood in front of me. The coach had stopped talking to us and was discussing something with the girls head coach.