“Psychology is much bigger than just medicine, or fixing unhealthy things. It's about education, work, marriage - it's even about sports. What I want to do is see psychologists working to help people build strengths in all these domains." - reads the sticker plastered on the
window of my psychology class.
All though my teacher is a bore with a voice that's about as appealing as nails against a chalk board, I find psychology to be my most interesting class. But because the majority of class time is pointless lectures, I tend to not pay attention and stare through the window.
"Grey?" I heard the nails screech on the chalkboard.
"Here." A small huff of laughter went throughout the classroom, which confused me.
"I asked you a question Grey: Frequency theory and place theory attempt to explain how the inner ear registers the pitch of sound. Which statement best reflects current opinion about frequency theory and place theory?"
"Easy, Place theory explains the perception of high-frequency sounds well, and frequency theory explains the perception of low-frequency sounds well." I smirked while watching my teacher’s reaction.
“Any other questions, Miss Vandermen?” A small rush of laughter came about the room once again. Miss Vandermen stood with the blank expression she always had.
Miss Vandermen didn’t like dealing with problem children, so that simple comment easily got me kicked out of the class room. Only seconds afterwards, I heard the classroom door open and close with footsteps to follow. I stopped walking so that the footsteps could catch up to me. When the footsteps stopped, they began to speak.
“You were so close to getting off the hook, and you blew it. Can’t you go a day without getting kicked out?” Of course the speaking feet belonged to Alexandra Olivine, class representative of the psychology class.
“Can’t she go a day without calling me out? What is so bad about day dreaming?” I replied without turning to face her.
“You’re not paying attention, not participating, giving no effort, not doing what you’re supposed to do-
“Okay, I get it.”
“You say that, but you’re still going to keep day dreaming in class.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Class rep. Let out this sigh of annoyance. She was probably tired of dealing with my crap every other day. Being class rep. is something the class votes for, so I doubt she ever wanted this role, let alone dealing with someone like me every day.
Silence fell between us. I walked over to the window. I could see the school courtyard from it. I craved sitting out there. If there is one thing I dislike more than Miss Vandermen it would be being crammed inside this stupid building. Why can’t classes be outside?
“What are you doing?” Class Rep. said from behind me.
“Why haven’t you gone back to the classroom?” I said harsher than I meant to. I already knew the answer, she’s class rep. and that means that she must help the teacher to control and help the other students and that she must represent what every student should act like. Her presence here is required of her.
Because Class Rep. fell into silence, I thought that maybe my comment offended her. Then I thought, she’s class representative, if something like that offended her then she shouldn’t have become class rep. in the first place. Of course, she never chose to become class rep. so I am uncertain of which of us is at fault. It would most likely be me.
While looking through the window, I noticed a girl standing in the courtyard. I couldn’t see her very well because of the distance, but something about her interested me. It was probably jealousy of her being outside when I was trapped here.
Class Rep stood behind me. “You’re always day dreaming through some window. Do you hate being here that much?” It wasn’t that I hated being at school, but more of that I loved to be outside. I didn’t tell her that, I pretended that I was too into my daydream to hear her.
“Hey Class Rep,”
“What is it?”
“Do you know who that girl is?” I asked as I placed my finger on the window. Class Rep stood beside me, so she could see through the window.
“Nope, I’ve never seen her before.” Class Rep said robotically. I mimicked what she said because of the strange way she said it. She rolled her eyes, but smiled.
“Time to bring you to the security office. Miss Vandermen doesn’t trust you enough to let you walk there on your own. Don’t you feel any guilt in that?”
“No not in particular.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“You’re not a very predictable person, Grey.”
“And yet what you assumed was correct.”
“With the exception of your hatred towards Miss Vandermen.”
“That means a lot coming from a smart person like you, Class Rep.” She rolled her eyes at that.
“You know, I have a name. Alexandra Olivine”
Class Rep opened the door to the security office. As I walked in I heard her say “Have fun talking with security.” And the door closed.
School ended the way it always did. It ended with me staying after school for ASD (After School Detention). I was pretending that my two pencils were enemy starships at war. This guy with several piercings watched, it’s not like there was anything better to do.
The guy with several piercings name was Foster. I found that name to be way too lame for a cool looking guy like him, so I just call him Gages.
Gages and I were often in ASD, so we kind of grew used to seeing each other. I guess there was a point where we became friends without either of us saying anything.
The unfortunate teacher that was in charge of the ASD class was Mr. Muller. Mr. Muller asked me what I was doing with my pencils. I told him that I was pretending that they were two horny zombies fighting over a pretty human girl, but I was actually still pretending they were starships.
Gages buried his face in his desk, and his body shook with laughter. Mr. Muller nodded his head and called me a strange child.
After ASD I went to Easton’s apartment. Easton is my closest friend. He’s an idiot, and pretty small compared to the average junior guy, but I think that’s why I hang around him. He makes everything fun and simple.
When I knocked on his door I heard a scream and several things crashing into the ground. I chuckled to myself, and opened the door. It seemed to never be locked.
When I entered the one room apartment I saw nothing but an unmade bed, an unclean kitchen, a very unclean bathroom, and a couch covered in a huge pile of clothes. Oh, I almost forgot the tipped over table in the middle of the room.
“Easton…?” I shouted. There was no response. Where could he be?
I walked around his apartment. I heard his scream before I came in, so I know he’s in here. “Easton…?” It was then, that I heard a barely audible voice say “He...lp…”
“Easton…Where are you?” It took a few seconds for him to respond “Clothes….Pile…”
I looked around his room. There were several clothes piles. “Which one?” I asked.
“Which one seems big enough to fit a person?” He said agitated
“…All of them.”
“Then follow my voice!” He somewhat yelled.
I did as he said, and helped him out of the huge pile of clothes. When I opened up the pile of clothes, this gross odor spread throughout the apartment. Easton crawled out of the pile, gasping for air.
“I would ask when the last time you cleaned those clothes was, but I’m kind of afraid to know.”
Once Easton regained his breath, he put his fingers through his hair and smiled this idiotic smile. He welcomed me to his home as if the whole pile-thing never happened.
Easton’s phone began to ring. He picked it up and looked at the screen.
“Ewe, it’s my sister.” He said.
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“I never told you?”
“Oh, uh… Grey, I have a sister.”
Easton started talking to his sister on the phone and made hand motions telling me to leave. His apartment was only one room.
When I got home it was almost midnight. My dad wasn’t home, as usual. My dad is a very busy businessman. His work requires a lot of extra working hours, trips, and being flexible enough to stop whatever he’s doing in case of an emergency at work. This leads to an often empty home.
I took off my shoes and got ready for bed. I got into bed and closed my eyes. I thought of this trip I went on with my mom and dad as a kid. Nostalgia is a good remedy for sleep.
The next day was no different than the day before. I found myself standing outside of Miss Vandermen’s classroom.
“Do you even try to not get kicked out?”
“No, not really”
“Grey, that’s kind of pathetic.”
Class Rep said something else, but I wasn’t paying any attention to her any longer. I stared through the window, and began to daydream of being seen as a hero to someone. I felt my mood slightly brighten.
As I stared through the window, I noticed the same girl from yesterday in the courtyard. What was she doing out there? Was she skipping class? That can’t be it, I’m sure she would’ve busted by now if she was skipping.
“The girl from yesterday is out in the courtyard again.” I said, not even looking away. Class Rep stood beside as she tried to get a better view of outside.
“Grey, that could be a completely different girl.”
“Yeah, a different girl that just happens to be sitting in the same place, at the same time as yesterday.”
Class Rep gave me this threatening look. I think she meant to say ‘Shut Up’. Class Rep walked me to the security office. Right as I was about to step into the room, Gages came out.
“Hello there, Greyson” Gages said in a joking manner.
I was on my way to ASD until Easton surprise attacked me and dragged me to outside of a random class room. We were kneeling down and being as quiet as possible.
“Why are we suspiciously kneeling down in front of some random classroom?” I whispered
“This isn’t just any random classroom, this is Greg’s classroom.”
I smiled, if Easton was planning on pranking that jerk then I was all in.
“Easton, what are you up to?”
“You’ll see soon enough.” He said as he fell into a fit of laughter. I began hopping Easton had planned something epic, which probably wouldn’t be the case.
Several students began to come through the door we were kneeling next to. A few people gave us strange looks. It was when a tall, stalky guy with dirty blonde hair walked pass us we knew it was Greg.
Eaton jumped out in front of Greg and threw some sort of liquid on him. Greg looked down at him. Easton was already a small guy, but when putting him in front of Greg he could be mistaken for probably an eleven year old.
“What did you just throw on me?”
“Thanks, now I’ll smell like I’ve been around girls.” Greg said and walked away. I walked over beside Easton.
“You do realize you’re an idiot, right?” I said
“Oh shut up”
I couldn’t find my pencils in detention, so I started daydreaming of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles breaking in the class through the window and telling Mr. Muller this class was too boring and needed some “spunk”. They ordered some pizza and threw a dance party, and when detention ended they left us with some cake to bring home. They’re some pretty rad dudes.
“Grey?” Mr. Muller broke me out of my awesome daydream.
“What are you doing?”
I examined myself, and realized I was pretending to eat a piece of cake. “I was imagining myself being a cannobalist”
“Is that so…”
“And how did that go?”
“It tasted like cake, so it was pretty nice.”
“I think you should consider seeing a therapist, Grey.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
Both, Mr. Muller and Gages were looking at me strangely. It’s not my fault they’re incredibly gullible.
When I stopped over at Easton’s apartment he was attempting to make homemade pizza. I smelled this overwhelming scent of something burning. The finished product was a mis-shaped black pizza, and Easton’s hands that had burns all over them. The fire-indicator-machine-thing started beeping from all the smoke.
Easton and I got a pillow and began waving them in front of the fire-indicator-machine-thing to get it to stop beeping. It worked once a few minutes passed.
After that, we both sat down on the stained carpet. Easton ran his fingers through his long golden hair, and made this idiotic smirk. He welcomed me to his apartment as if nothing happened.
We talked about nothing in particular. I remember Easton mentioning something about his sister and maybe something about Greg. My phone started ringing, interrupting our pointless conversation.
I looked at the phone number displayed on my phone screen. I felt my fingers go numb as I stared at the number. The phone number belonged to my dad.