Stones to Abbigale {Ch.5}
(Kat)
I still wanna die.
I sat alone in my room thinking about all that happened in the last day. As I slid deeper into thought a knock sounded at my door.
“Dinner’s ready James” my mom said.
I responded “Lentils again?”
This is also still not how you write or format dialogue.
She opened the door and looked at me with a blank facial expression “We have to talk, come to the table.”
As I left my room, I saw a man sitting at the table next to my sister. Trying not to be rude I said hello and he smiled responding loudly “Hello! Nice to meet you James!”
I asked my mom “So who is this gentleman?”
No teenager talks like this. At least no teenager I’ve met.
My mom responded, “Go ahead and sit down James.”
I slid out the old-fashioned second-hand store chair I always sat in at the table and waited for my mom to explain.
I don’t give a shit where you bought the chair or what style it is. Just say chair. Those details are unnecessary.
“This is Rick, the reason you haven’t seen much of him is because he lives on the other side of the mountains all the way in Spokane,” my mom said.
I smiled feeling slightly awkward and replied, “Oh, alright, cool.”
My sister immediately mocked me “Oh, cool mom duh! You’re such a dweeb James.”
There was no point in being that rude, Lisa.
Despite her bratty insult, I could see she too felt awkward about Rick being so spontaneously introduced to us and was just trying to distract.
Yeah, I agree, this is strange.
“Rick and I have been dating for quite a few months now and are starting to become quite serious” my mom said, clearly seeking our approval.
Rick added “So yeah, it’s really cool to finally meet you, your mom talks a lot about you”.
This...
This is the first this woman is telling her kids of this? She hasn’t told them she’s going to probably Spokane or somewhere in between for dates? They just don’t question it? This is bullshit.
I smiled and nodded while thinking about how odd it was my mom had never mentioned him.
Yeah, good to know I’m not the only one who thinks this is weird.
Rick proceeded to tell us stories about him hunting animals, his upper-level position at a construction company based out of Spokane and continued to remind us how happy he was to be meeting us. As far as I could see he wasn’t a bad guy but as usual, I didn’t expect much knowing most everyone puts on their friendliest mask for first impressions. I’m sure my sister was thinking pretty much the same thing I was, he wasn’t my mom’s first post-dad boyfriend.
My mom inquired, “So how’s your life going James?”
I replied “Fine.”
Rick asked, “Got a girlfriend?” I didn’t respond.
Why in the fresh hell is this the topic of conversation?
I just kept my head down, looking at my plate. My mom looked at me with a proud smile, “James is more of the mysterious type Rick, he doesn’t talk about his relationships.”
Oh, give me a goddamn break.
Rick then said “Oh yeah? Well if you find a lady half as good as your mom, I’d say you’re set.”
My sister interrupted “Aren’t you seeing that messed up emo chick James?”
There is no point in being that rude.
Looking over at my sister with a blank face I said, “Aren’t you seeing every guy at school Lisa?”
Oh my god. Why are you slut-shaming your sister?
Lisa looked horrified and my mom responded “James!”
Not knowing what else to say. Rick was the only one still smiling at the table at that point. Moderately upset by what Lisa said I asked to be excused and went to bed.
As I climbed on the bus the next day Davis hollered “Praise be to James! Our hero has arrived” I smiled as I always did. I hated loving his hilarious lines;
They aren’t hilarious. They’re just... Annoying.
they were kind of a tradition for Davis. Every time I stepped on the bus, he would yell them. Even when I wanted to be upset he always found a way past the walls I had built, knowing exactly what to say every time.
As I sat next to him he said, “I’ve been missing your face a lot Mr. James, I’m trying to figure out ways to compete with your skates.”
Compete?
What?
I smiled and said “You’re one of the only reasons I ride the bus Davis, you’re doing just fine.”
Davis then jumped up and yelled, “You hear that everyone, my best buddy thinks I’m pretty fantastic!”
I laughed, wishing to myself I had more friends like him.
Davis makes me want to die.
Also, that interaction was very stale, but moving on.
As I approached my history class, I could see Mr. Hanson waiting in the hall. I tried to walk by him unnoticed but he said, “Not so fast, you need to go see the guidance counselor.”
???
I asked why and he replied, “It’s about that fight you got in. Ms. Robertson is waiting.”
Okay fair.
I proceeded to the office where there was a line of three people ahead of me.
That isn’t a big line, bro.
It wasn’t due to bad scheduling, Ms. Robertson was just outmatched by the school population and considering she was the only person most students knew to get free condoms and/or advice from she was regularly seeing visitors.
Why does she give out condoms and not the nurse?
“James Patrick!” she said aggressively as I approached the old wood and glass door. I smiled out of politeness as she turned to the others and tossed a bundle of condoms in their direction.
“These are a last resort, abstinence first!” she said as she stood by the door waiting for me to enter.
One of the boys standing at the door said “I actually need advi...” but she slammed the door before he could finish speaking.
Okay. Don’t do your job I guess.
“Have a seat James,” she said. I sat down and the room filled with a few awkward seconds of silence.
She continued, “So it looks to me that you’re healing up ok.”
I replied confirming I was fine.
She then said “I’ve heard both sides of the story and have concluded that your friend Jason is destined for not so great things if he keeps up his attitude.”
My face remained still, emotionless really. I just sat silently listening. She asked, “What direction do you want to go with your future?”
I replied, “I’ve heard really great things about up.” It was like my joke hit a brick wall.
She seemed only sarcastically amused and continued speaking, “But seriously, I was told you turned down a TA position which I personally recommended to Mr. Hanson.”
I replied, “I just wanted to stay in art class.”
She replied “With Mrs. Stanley?”
I nodded and she laughed. “So who’s the girl?” she asked.
I was surprised that she concluded so quickly it was even about a girl. But then again I was just one of thousands of students, we like to think romance is unique, but we’re most all playing the same game.
Shut your mouth.
Also, I hate how Onion is trying so hard to make this a John Green novel.
It isn’t working.
Ms. Robertson had years dealing with people like me, no wonder she could see right through me.
For a brief moment, Ms. Robertson nearly spoke my mind, she said with a smirk, “Oh come on, lots of us like to think we’re special but that just of shows you how we really aren’t. Especially the brats walking these halls.”
Knowing Ms. Robertson had to keep our conversations private, I replied, “There’s this girl... Abbi. I really like her, and it’s the only class I have with her.”
Ms. Robertson was no longer smirking now that I told her who I was interested in. She sat up and looked down at her desk.
Oh no.
She moved some items around and stopped suddenly, she then looked me in the eyes and said “Listen to me carefully, I can’t tell you anything about Abbi but I can give you advice, think twice about getting involved with her. I want to see you succeed and some people being a significant part of your life can make that difficult for you.”
I didn’t say anything, in that moment I was lost in thought wondering why she would become so serious over Abbi.
This should be good.
Ms. Robertson then asked, “So, I’m not going to try and change your heart, in my experience that’s more often than not a lost cause, but I can change your schedule to something that fits. Abbi has PE during third period, how about you just stick with Mr. Hanson after your first class of the day. Doing so will replace your art class, and your third period will now be PE, where you can see your precious Abbi.”
It said she asked, but nothing in that paragraph was a question.
While her attitude towards Abbi continued to concern me, I also was curious as to why both Ms. Robertson and Mr. Hanson were so adamant about having me be a TA, but I was grateful they were at least trying to work with me regarding my preferences, so I accepted the schedule change.
It’s so bizarre to me that Ms. Robertson told James to stay away from Abbi and then helped him rearrange his schedule to have more classes with her.
I returned to Mr. Hanson’s class and requested I attend art class one last time before the schedule change. Mr. Hanson agreed and I made my way over to the art trailer once more. As I walked in the trailer door I was happy to see Abbi once again sitting in the same seat she always did.
When I approached her to sit down she pulled out my backpack and shook it, “You’re backpack has a lot of interesting things in it.”
I replied “Oh really, you went through it?”
That’s really weird.
She responded “Yep! And by interesting things I mean nothing, just school junk.” I laughed and asked “Life’s got enough burdens for us to carry, why add physical weight?”
Oh my god my eyes are glazing the fuck over.
She raised her eyebrows and said “Ok smarty, did you like our bear?”
I smiled and replied, “I love it!” She threw her arms up and hugged me.
Why?
Physical contact?
Mrs. Stanley walked in, immediately seeing our hug and said, “If you’re going to suck or eat go find an alleyway. This is a trailer we have god damn dignity!”
s this...
A reference to oral sex?
It’s so poorly executed that I literally just thought of food and was confused.
Not knowing how to react, I looked over at Abbi silently mouthing “Oh my god” to me.
I smiled and sat down with Abbi. Alex walked in the room and gave me a glare, probably because his art partner was still suspended for the fight we had, which meant he had to do it alone. I tried to ignore Alex, all I could think of is that pee jar when I looked at him which still freaked me out.
I hate that that’s what you associate this douchebag with. Or that that is a part of this stupid book.
As class came to a close we gathered our things and began to walk out. “Bye Mrs. Stanley I’ll miss you.” Mrs. Stanley responded calling me the F word,
in her natural offensive fashion and gave the class an awkward, semi-shocked laugh.
Walking outside, Abbi asked, “Why do you think Mrs. Stanley still has a job?”
I replied “Pretty sure everyone feels they’ll guarantee themselves an eternity of torment in the afterlife if they were to fire someone as old as her.”
Abbi replied “Yeah, I guess it would be hard getting a job when you’re resume lists World War I nurse in your work history.”
:/
I laughed so hard I had to stop till I could control it, “Are you ok?” Abbi asked with a nervous smile on her face.
Still laughing, I said “Sorry, sorry.” and continued walking as Abbi looked at me, bewildered by how funny I thought she was. My reaction wasn’t really just about what she said, but the fact that she said it to me. I felt so important and excited when she gave me her attention.
I hate everything.
As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look, as I normally didn’t walk her that far, I said, “Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you, we have the same class now.”
She replied, “Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick.”
I said, “Not if you drop Mrs. Stanley.”
She pushed me playfully saying “Jealous!”
???
Jealous about what?
The boys split off to dress in their locker room and the girls did the same. I didn’t have gym clothes with me yet so I just sat down at the bleachers and waited for everyone else to get done putting on their uniforms.
It’s a thing at my school that if you don’t have gym clothes you will be provided with some, but maybe that’s just me.
A deep voice sounded off “What are you doing here kid?” I looked over to see a very tall man in the baggiest gym suit I’d ever seen.
“Hi, I’m James Patrick, I think I have your class now. You can clear it with Ms. Robertson.”
He smiled and said, “Well James Patrick, I’m your gym teacher Mr. Mack.”
I nodded and smiled as he bluntly asked, “You’re that kid who got beat up by Jason?”
I hate having to format this fucking story just to make it easier to read.
Onion, learn to format your own work.
I replied, “Yeah I pushed him after he pushed me and then he started throwing punches.”
He smiled and said “Well, that’s my nephew for you.”
Yikes.
I froze up and blankly stared at Mr. Mack as his words sank in. I swear I could feel my heart skip when I acknowledged his connection to Jason. Seeing the look on my face Mr. Mack continued
“Don’t worry, between you and me, kid’s a prick. Just like his dad.” Mr. Mack chuckled and walked away.
Also, another thing, Onion thinks that if you write a word that might extend onto the next page, you have to write a hyphen in the middle of the word to make it fit. While this is sometimes the case, it’s usually fine unless the word when put onto a new line leaves a large dent in the side of the paragraph. When this isn’t so, it’s just annoying to read.
I felt relief and awkwardly smiled only to see Abbi in the corner of my eye bursting out of the girls’ locker room. She was in her PT uniform
You said you needed gym clothes, but whatever, be inconsistent. Also, that says ‘PT’ uniform, not PE. Did Onion even edit this at all?
and carried a beautiful smile on her face. Running over to me, Abbi sat down and gave me a big hug.
“I’m so glad you’re still in a class with me,” she said. The gym shirt was hiked up her arms so I could feel her skin connect with my neck. The sensation was glorious.
Why... Why?
They’re arms.
My face was beaming from feeling her warmth around me.
I replied, “You will be the one reason I look forward to gym.”
Mr. Mack overheard and interrupted as he stood a short distance away “Hey kid, and I thought we were becoming friends!”
I laughed awkwardly feeling a little weird about him eavesdropping. But then again, it’s much easier to close your eyes than it is to turn off your ears.
Yikes.
Everyone gathered on the gym floor, excluding me. Mr. Mack immediately noticed I was not participating and said “Hey, if you don’t have gear, go in my office and pick out an outfit.”
Like I said earlier, clothes will be provided for you.
I reluctantly got up and walked over to his office where all I realized I would have to sift through a huge pile of mismatching jerseys and sweatpants to get a half-decent outfit.
After changing in the bathroom I walked out to everyone taking part in dodge ball. I could feel the focus of the room shift on my outfit and, just as I expected, I was greeted with laughter.
And it doesn’t tell me what that looks like, so I’m just imagining a metallic 1980′s tracksuit.
“Hey, at least you won’t get your normal clothes sweaty from dodge ball!” Mr. Mack said tossing me a ball as the game was already in play.
Before I could even catch it, Raymon, one of the jocks in the class, smacked me in the side of the head.
Raymon is out.
That’s also not a name I have ever heard of. So there’s that.
Everyone but a few people bust out laughing again as Mr. Mack lurched up and pointed at Raymon screaming
“You’re out Raymon, can’t hit above the shoulders!” Raymon replied with a discouraged snap of his fingers, scowling as he sat on the sidelines.
I’m just imagining him like.
‘aw darn!’
Because nobody snaps their fucking fingers in discouragement unless they’re joking.
It was odd how he broke the rules and hit another person in the head yet pretended to be the victim.
He didn’t pretend to be the victim, though.
I never really understood the human tendency to feel sorry for yourself when you’re being punished for breaking rules you were well aware of.
Oh, because you’re so high and mighty.
Abbi was on my team and we were down to just a few people, I very quickly found out I was quite good at the game, better than I thought at least. I kind of used Abbi as my motivation to do well.
A girl you’ve spoken to only this week. And to add to this, you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to her on one hand.
I imagine it was some kind of evolutionary thing, a man trying to impress his mate with physical performances to demonstrate his superiority over other members of the tribe.
That gif is the only one I can use to express how much that line alone pisses me the fuck off.
That is so sexist?
Primitive?
It’s creepy?
It’s really fucking weird?
Like, Onion, honestly, what the fuck was going through your head that made you think it was a good idea to write that shit? ‘Evolutionary thing’ my ass, if I liked a girl or a guy I’d also want to impress them.
You aren’t special and neither is your shitty pretentious main character.
Okay, moving on.
I kept catching every other ball thrown at me only to return it, hitting a student approximately one out of every three attempts.
‘Approximately.’
Stop trying to make yourself impressive.
I always threw low to decrease the chance of anyone catching my ball. After a while my consistent efforts paid off, our entire team was back in play. Raymon had made his way back in the game on their side but only a small nerdy kid remained in play with him. Raymon would try to catch what we threw but was always a few inches short of reaching the ball as it flew by. A ball smacked the nerdy kid in his ankles and only Raymon was left. He tried to throw a ball at my head again but this time I was ready. Just as the ball flew past me every person with a ball on my side threw theirs at him. In an almost comedic fashion every other ball impacted his chest and below. We were all cracking up over it but Mr. Mack interrupted us letting us know class was over.
Okay so that was hard to imagine as a sequence of events.
Before Abbi ran back to the locker room, she walked up to me and said “Can you call me tonight?” I nodded smiling and she kissed me on the cheek. My mind exploded with excitement. From that single kiss on my cheek my whole body felt light and warm the rest of the day.
After doing my chores later that night I called Abbi like she asked and she answered “Hey you!”
I want to die.
I replied “Not a lot of callers huh?”
She said “Actually I just embarrassed myself on the last call hoping it was you. My grandma felt pretty special for about ten seconds.”
Okay, so there’s another thing I have to keep fixing. When you write dialogue, you put the period at the end of the sentence inside the quotations. Onion keeps putting it outside and it’s driving me crazy.
Also these jokes just make me want to die even more than I already do.
She and I talked for hours; we discussed the plausible absurdity of horoscopes, “The Secret,” the legitimacy of souls, the afterlife and even leprechauns. Very few topics were off-limits.
Wow, you’re making yourself even more pretentious.
Being free to talk about whatever was on my mind felt liberating. Having these conversations with her served as just another reminder that there was someone out there who could really understand me with just as much kindness and acceptance as I did them.
YOU HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER PERSONALLY FOR LESS THAN A GODDAMN WEEK.
STOP.
Before I hung up I said “Abbi, thank you for making my imperfect life feel perfect.”
FUCK YOU.
She laughed at how cheesy the line was only to respond, “Well thank you for being so perfectly imperfect.” I felt a warm smile come across my face and said goodnight.
This whole romance between James and Abbi is really unrealistic and corny and forced.
But the chapter is over, so whatever. I’ll see you guys next time.
~Kat