I woke to the bright sun shining through my window while slightly glaring off of my sapphire-blue walls. I groaned slightly looking at my digital clock as I realized I was awake at 6 am which to me is like dying, being brought back to life and having all of my human rights taken away with a blink of an eye. I stumbled out my bed and into my bathroom which is connected to my room to take a shower. Once I finished with my shower, I got changed into my plain white t-shirt with a sleek black vest over it and my dark blue skinny-jeans along with my favorite pair of old converses that were all dirty which was an effect of pulling weeds in my mothers garden all summer long. I then went into one of my brother’s bathroom to straighten my hair seeing as I didn’t have a flat iron of my own. As it heated up, my brother Ryan walked in to the bathroom looking at me weird as I stared at the flat iron.
“Um Jason, why is the flat iron on and why are you staring at it,” Ryan asked walking up to me slowly.
“Silly Ry! I’m straightening MY hair of course. Sometimes you just don’t use your brain Ry-Ry,” I said cheerily not realizing the error in my words. He looked at me disbelievingly before bursting out laughing. I didn’t think I told a joke, but something I said had been funny so I just laughed along. He stopped to say, “Jas, your hair is naturally straight. You can’t straighten straight hair you dork!” I made an ‘O’ with my mouth and unplugged the flat iron before walking away humming ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’. Here’s something you should know about me; I am not the smartest person in the world. In fact, all of my family has this joke that being dropped on my head as a baby affected my way of thinking as I got older.
I walked into the kitchen as my little brother Dylan said ‘Bon Jour’. I asked, “What about Bon Jovi? He died like 50 years ago or something like that right?” He just rolled his eyes and took another gulp of his apple juice. I poured myself a glass of orange juice as my mother, Myles, flipped another one of her famous chocolate chip pancakes! Yummy in my tum-tum-tummy! I took a sip of my orange juice and thought it was fantastic so I thought I’d make a song about it. I got stuck after “Oh Orange” while I racked my brain trying to think of a word that rhymed with orange. “Well maybe you should ask one of your brothers,” some one said in my head. Wait, what?!?! Someone in my head? I decided my song was like 5 billion times more important than some weird disease I might have; I mean it is a SONG about an Orange. I could win a trophy or maybe I could win an orange signed by the inventor of the orange!
“Hey Dylan, what rhymes with orange? I wanna write a song about this yummy orange juice, but I can’t think of anything that rhymes with it,” I spoke looking down at my juice like a love sick puppy. Yet again, someone laughs at me this morning when I didn’t even tell a joke. I must be a pretty hilarious guy, but then why do girls scoot away from me when I come near them? Do I smell or something because I honestly think I smell pretty, I a manly way of course! Dylan barely sputters out, “Nothing,” from all the laughing. I look at him comparing the words orange and nothing, but they didn’t rhyme at ALL.
“Dylan, ‘nothing’ doesn’t rhyme with orange.”
“No, Jas I mean nothing rhymes with orange.”
“Nothing. Orange. Nothing. Orange. They don’t fit together lil’ dude!” We kept negotiating about this for all of breakfast for the morning and everyone else kept saying I was wrong and he was right. Why does everyone always say that? Soon my mom stepped in telling me that they didn’t meant the word ‘nothing’ rhymed with orange, but that they meant literally nothing rhymed with orange.
A little later all three of us (my brother Ryan, my twin Kyle and myself) got into Kyle’s old corvette and drove off to Pacific East Academy (PEA); our high school. I barely made it to my homeroom class by the time the bell rang. I sat behind Shane, my best friend since we were in the Terrible Two’s stage, and in next to my other best friend Finn of who I had just made friends with last year. We heard the announcements; said the pledge and Shane and I of us head off to History class while Finn went to AP English, but I still didn’t understand what AP stood for. I believe it stands for ‘All Pink’ class since one day last year when I was a TA I walked in and everyone was wearing pink. I asked if this was the ‘All Pink’ class, but instead everyone laughed saying that was a ‘good one’! I didn’t understand what was so ‘good’ about what I said.
As I took out my mechanical pencil and notebook, I soon figured out my pencil was out of led. I tried desperately to get the led to come out of the pencil lead case. I turned it upside down, looked into it and banged it on the desk even! It just wouldn’t budge a bit, but what was really weird was yet again people were laughing at me! I didn’t even say anything funny or even a word for that matter! Kyle, who was next to me, grabbed the case from me and held it upside down while shaking it making the Jason-your-an-idiot face. Either that or he had a major case of ‘personal expression time’ as I called it, but then he forgot he was in class room of people embarrassing himself. Finally I got that he was showing me that nothing was in there and I just sat there staring at the board trying to figure out how I could get more lead right now.
I was about to reach over and take Kyle’s lead when I heard a voice in my head say, “You should ask to borrow it first Jason.” It was that dang voice again! I made a face, but took its advice and got lead for my pencil with a snap of a finger, if only I could snap *sigh*. We finally got out of that class and went to English next. When I sat down, I looked at the bored to see that we had to write a compare and contrast essay about back when schools were segregated to now when we all went to the say school to get dumber. Or was it more smartical? That took forever and now I have homework, but luckily I had woodshop next. You may think airhead + power/sharp tools=DUMB IDEA, but I was actually best in my class which was the weirdest thing in the world to me.
I sat down and started to work on my latest project, a BIRDIE HOUSE! See I’m like extremely obsessed with birdies. I even promised the world once that my first kiss will be with a birdie and I intend to keep that promise! Finn also had this class so he and I fought for the rightful title of ‘Best in Class’, but I always won! He asked me if I wanted to go off campus for lunch next period with him and Shane while I just nodded not even listening to him one bit because I REALLY wanted to finish my birdie house! Once I finished, I sat in my seat thinking of names for birdies I would get in the future and doodled some red robins, them being my favorite bird even if my favorite color is blue meaning my favorite bird should be a blue jay or something but it’s not.
The bell rang and everyone but me ran for the door. I just slowly got from my seat noticing everyone had just left, grabbed my binder and new birdie house, waved like a little school girl to the teacher Mr. Woodsmen and then skipped to my locker while almost dropping my birdie house, but saved it before it could fall. I placed it on the bottom of my locker then put my binder on the top shelf. I wound my way through the hallways finding Finn and Shane easily since I’m about a little over 6 feet tall. They give me a high five and say ‘Hi Jason’
“No, it’s Jesus,” I snapped playfully glaring at them. They looked at me weird then Shane stuttered, “Okay then, um…..Hey Jesus?”
“No, it’s Jason,” I say in an exasperated voice. They just groan and drag me outside to Shane’s dark red Ford truck so we could go get lunch. Our school gives us 30 minute lunch, but all three of us had free period next so we usually just go off campus instead. They pulled up to Red Robin ignoring my protests.
“Guys, we can’t eat red robins! That’s like….like….cannibalism or something! PLEASE?!?! Anywhere else,” I begged but they still walked in. We got a table and I sat down with a huff. They just rolled there eyes and started to read the menu. I glanced down at the menu before asking, “Shane can you read it to me?” He slowly put down his menu and looked over at me just as Kyle had that morning. I pointed at the menu then put on my puppy pout. No can resist the awesomeness that is my puppy pout. He sighed and started to read the menu items out loud and went into description of each item I thought sounded yummy. I think Finn was snickering about the fact that this happened every time we went out to eat. In fact they took turns.
I ended up getting some type of salad with apples on it while Finn and Shane both got some uber-super spicy burger. They went though 4 glasses water during lunch. We paid the bill and left to back to PEA. We then had PE and we were playing badminton this week. I got us rackets to play two on two, Shane and I against Finn and Kyle. Then the teacher said ‘I’ll get some more birdies,’ while I froze and ran after him telling him not to turn to the dark side with Shane and Finn; to not eat the poor little birdies. Shane, Finn and Kyle caught up explaining I was just kidding and didn’t let me protest about how I really did mean it. Of course that all started over when Finn teased me by saying, “I’m gonna hit the birdie now!” I went through the rest of the day giving him the silent treatment.
Eventually came my last period, Cooking/baking class. When I got in, I read the boards instructions and started to prepare for baking cupcakes. My partner Tiffany snatched the whisk from me not wanting me to repeat last weeks disastrous last period where I somehow covered every inch of the room with German chocolate cake batter. By the end of the period, we had completed the cupcakes and were now freshly baked and puffy. She took half while I took the other half. I took a bite of one of mine but then started jumping up and down like a kid at Christmas from the fact that it was still burning hot, but also that it was yummier than my orange juice from this morning! But to oppress the racket, Tiffany poured water on me to stop jumping up and down around bowls of cupcake batter which would result in either her getting caked in cupcake goop or me getting in heaps of trouble plus her & the goop part.
Later when I got home, I changed from my soaking clothes thanks to Tiffany and started my homework. I finished my worksheet on civil rights for history and finished eating all my cupcakes. I walked out into the living room to see my mom folding laundry. I stopped in and said, “I made cupcakes in school today, but I ate yours. I was gonna buy you one, but I think I would have eaten that one too. So…..um….thanks for the cupcake, it was well.”
“No, Jason it was good,” she said correcting my error, but instead I just excitedly said “Yeah that too!” Then I told her about the voice in my head and how I think I should go to the doctor. She told me it was just my conscience telling me right from wrong; NO worries I guess then! That night I sat down to read a book for school about South America (pronounced Om-err-eek-kuhh according to me even if everyone says I’m wrong!) I was reading out loud to my pet turtle named Jason since that name is just awesome when my dad walked in listening to me. He tried to reason with me about the way I pronounce America. He said something like “Jason, if you pronounce South America as Om-err-ekk-kuhh, then that means you live in North Om-err-ekk-kuhh.” I just nodded my head up in down, bouncing off the walls as usual.
He shook his head and told me dinner was ready saying they made my favorite. They lied. Momma did NOT make waffles at all! She made tacos which are Kyle’s favorite, not MINE. After dinner I got changed into my soft-n’-cozy plaid pajamas and lay in bed talking to Ted the airhead (my teddy bear) about my day.
“Ted, today I made the new description of awesomeness in cooking class. My partner Tiffany is so awesome and funny and pretty and……..wait did I just say she’s pretty? Well, oh well. I can say she’s pretty since I have a crush on her so…….wait I have a crush on Tiffany? I’m so confused by my own words right now!”
Soon I was drifting off to bed wondering if the voice of my mother calling ‘Jason’ was directed to me or my pet turtle Jason. I settled on it was the turtle, not me!
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