2 Shorts, a Novella and a Haiku Walk Into a Bar
By
Mia Soto
Text copyright © 2016 Mia Soto
All Rights Reserved
These stories contain some mature situations and adult language that may not be suitable for younger readers.
You
There, when I saw you
Under sunshine, rain falling
Near love,
unresolved
She
Forty and a hundred forty degrees, moron. Yeah, Brad, explain how you came up with that answer. Uhh, well, you know it was math and uhhh, I'm a dipshit. Man, Arthur really stinks today. I bet he hasn't bathed in a week. Oh man, arms down, Arthur, arms down. Breath through your mouth. Breath through your mouth.
Yes, Ms Smith, he's a total farthead. No he's only good for catching balls and getting hit hard in the head. That's why he's still in this class. What is this, his fourth time taking it? Just pass him already and let someone else deal with his supreme stupidness.
Huh? What's that, a little louder Bradly. You're a total moron? You don't say. Ohh, ugh. Yeah, that's it. Get her all hot. She's giggling now. He's off the hook. Honestly Ms Smith was high school that bad for you? Really, Brad Diphead? A little discretion at least, woman. You're going to end up on national TV. Oh god, no, look somewhere else, lady. Shit, I didn't sit behind Arthur for the view. Why is she looking over here? Shit. Give her the wrong answer. Don't say it; don't say it.
"Forty and a hundred forty degrees."
At least I mumbled it. That looks kinda cool, right? Oh, Meredith is looking. Wow, she looks great today. Quit letting Diphead cheat off you. Did she smile at me? Yeah, she did. I think. Wait, why is she laughing with Bradhead? Look at Ms Smith. She's not smiling. What did I say?
"See me after class Mr Nelson."
Shit, what did I say? I said the answer, right? All I said was the answer, right? Think Nelson, think.
"Hey, what did I say?"
Barlow is shaking his head. Why is he red? Is he laughing? Was I funny? That would be good even if I get in trouble.
"Mr Nelson, would you like to share that with the class?"
Shit, not my day. She never liked me. Sucks being dumber than your students, huh, Ms S? Get used to it. You're a relic. Maybe if you keep giggling Butthead will take you behind the janitor's shed in the yard.
"No Ms Smith." Shut up Bradhead. Stick that tongue in the nearest socket.
"Then Mr Nels - "
Hold the farm, who is this?
"Yes?" Smith looks just as surprised as me. "Oh, lovely, so nice to have you Ms Watson."
No don't sit here there. Not there. Anywhere but there. Don't listen to him. No, don't smile at the Neanderthals. It only encourages them. What color is that hair? Perfection, is that a color?
"As I was saying Mr Nelson, if you don't wish to share with the class please keep your ideas to yourself."
Flipping elephant. She never forgets. I swear she's still pissed about me locking her in the girls’ bathroom and turning out the lights. Thank your lover boy for that. I really don't like you Ms S. I mean it was a prank. By a zit faced nube. Who didn’t want to get in with that group? It was social acceptance or adult acceptance. Is there even a competition between the two? Jeez lady, it was last semester. I'm a freshman. He's a senior. You could cut me some slack. I mean I did a week of detention. Dues paid, right? Brad Diphead, what a Diphead. I'd never do it now. One semester. Only one to get me thinking again. Takes some effort to flip the brain back on once you leave the herd. One semester. That and the fact that I hate you Brad Dilfer. You can bring on any of your stupid locker room threats. I don't care. But this is now and that was then.
"Yes, Ms Smith."
God I wish I had some balls to tell her what I really think of her and her half-baked math skills and desperate felony level flirting. Yeah, smug smile. She's such a witch. Screw you, Brad. I'll see you in the women's shoe department after your Al Bundy skills take you nowhere.
Oh yes, Juliet you are the sun, indeed. What was her name again? Really gotta work on my focus skills. Wow, I don't ever think I've seen eyes so blue before. Wait are they black? Maybe they're black. She's not from around here. Or anywhere like here. She's different. What year is she? Did they say? Gotta listen better. Damn, the bell. Try to get close to her. I bet she smells great. No, Arthur not now.
"Later?" Need to firm up lunch with Barlow first. He's shaking his head.
"Mandatory math workshop with -." He's flipping his head in Smith's direction. He's about to fail. He's going to lose his scholarship. That's going to suck. He's one of few friends at this place.
"K."
Guess I'll eat by the library. There's a private area away from the masses. I can get in a few minutes of LoL. I was almost at the nexus when I fell asleep last night. It was brilliant hacking the school WiFi the first week of school. The general confusion of a new year had their guard down. Yeah, Mr MIT better hit refresh on your super skills. You're being played by a fourteen-year-old. I really like Mr K, though. He's really smart and nice. He never makes you feel bad about yourself. Whether you're smart or dumb as rocks. I almost feel bad about hacking his firewall. Almost.
I knew it. I knew she'd smell great. I should smile at her. Ok, do it now. Right now before you pass her. Turn you head, loser. Now. Turn your head and smile. Ok, well, maybe tomorrow. Don't want to come off desperate. Better hurry, I need to get to my locker before the bell. Need my Lit books. Stupid. Gotta work on my organization skills. Lit is right next door. My locker is all the way at the far side of the freshman wing. I spend a lot of time on the upperclassman side. The curse of being full blown geek.
"Oh, Mr Nelson." Ms Smith's doing that ear grating, mind scraping sing song voice of hers. Shit right.
"Yeah?" I always speak into the floor. It's as much social defense as crippling shyness.
"I don't appreciate your attitude of late." She's smiling though. I swear she needs meds. I can't keep up with her moods.
"Yes, ok." What am I supposed to say to this? She looks like she wants to speak again when Aphrodite walks up. Her kicks are the most awesomely orange glow ever. I see these first because my eyes are glued to the floor. Our shoes are the only thing they let us choose about our appearance here in hell.
"Oh, hello, this is Frederick Nelson." Damn my parents and their German pride.
"Nelson is fine." I mumble but I finally get the nerve to give her a sideways look. She must be upper class. She's so calm and cool. I've never seen anyone fill out the St Paul's uniform like this before. I don't think they're supposed to wear their skirts that short. And I know they supposed to button every button on their shirts. You wouldn't think it would look right, a shirt and tie with buttons open, but it looks so right.
"Yes, well, Frederick," Smith is talking again. I forgot she was here. "To avoid detention you can share your notes with Ms Watson. Catch her up." Oh my god, that's my punishment? Fuck yeah! I could hit something right now.
"Yeah sure." I'm still mumbling and when I kick the leg of the desk in front of me. It topples. Guess it's broken.
Smith sighs. "Alright, Mr Nelson, I'll see you tomorrow."
I'm nodding trying to look cool. I turn to bounce and kick the garbage can by Smith's desk. It’s basically empty so it flies into the wall but thankfully doesn't dump over. It makes an impressively loud clanging echo in the empty room. I can feel how hot my face is as I shuffle out quickly. I don't look back. I don't want to see it if she's laughing at me.