Post by orinocoflow on May 11, 2010 22:52:53 GMT -5
“You seriously expect us to sit with you? I mean, come on, dude, you listen to that music.”
I looked away, knowing that there was no way I could possibly be able to have any friends for a while simply because I did not listen to rap or hip-hop. Was it my fault I had grown up with music from the sixties, seventies, eighties, and such? That I loved Irish music and culture, especially the music and art? That a certain group called Celtic Thunder had me completely under their spell? That I thought one singer in particular was incredibly attractive even though he was almost seventeen years older than me? Yeah, that made me the least popular person in the class even more than before. And in this school, that was not a good thing.
“It’s not like you guys have even heard them sing,” I protested, even as I knew that this was going to be another lunch were I sat alone. They gave a unanimous “Whatever” under their breaths and just walked away, leaving me standing in the hall. Sighing, I put the books down by my next class and made my way to the patio where everyone was gathered to eat lunch. Finding a quiet spot, I sat down, expecting to block out the world for the next twenty minutes as I always did.
Suddenly, a lunchbox dropped down beside me, followed by a lanky form about my height. A scrambled 5-5-5 Rubix Cube came last, clattering down and landing a few inches away from me.
“Hey,” said Alex. He was a year younger than me, but we had quickly found several things in common: we both loved to put together Rubix cubes; we lived more or less near each other; we liked the same music; and he looked a bit like Paul Byrom with his bright blue eyes and brown hair that was either spiky or flopping down into his eyes, depending on how hard the homework had been the day before. His innate sense of humor was not understood by anyone except those that also liked Celtic Thunder. “It’s hopeless trying to sit with them, just as it’s hopeless trying to convince them to like the same music.” He gave me one of his signature grins, immediately lightening my dreary mood.
“Thanks, Alex, but this is annoying me a lot. They hate something with all their heart simply because it’s different from what they listen to. Talk about xenophobia.”
“Yeah, true. So, are you still going to their concert?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” I laughed. “Of course I’m going!”
“Hey, I have to make sure!” he said, and then brought up the solved Rubix Cube.
“How fast was that?”
“3 minutes, 17 seconds.”
“Dang it, I didn’t beat my record. (2 minutes 41 seconds). Scramble it again, this time harder.”
Lunch went by faster and better than I had first expected.
“All right, class, you are going to do a project on current events. Please have your articles in by Friday so that I can look over them over the weekend and give you feedback on Monday.”
This was Monday, and my history teacher just assigned something that would begin converting my class into Thunderheads.
“Class, for the last few weeks of school, I want you to all come up with some sort of project to do in our computer class. You may use any program you want, and may work either individually or in groups. Proposals due tomorrow.”
This was Tuesday. My computer teacher had just given me yet another idea on how to convert my class.
“Okay, you guys, we have only four more art classes left before you graduate. For these last few classes, I want you to bring in a picture of your favorite singer or actor, and you will be drawing them.”
“Can I draw a wolf? Jacob turns into one, you know,” someone called out.
While the room was filled with groans and squeals, depending on who liked to draw and who didn’t, I realized that this was one more way towards my goal. Wednesday had given me another good reason.
“What are you doing?”
I jumped as a thunderous boom echoed above my head. Glancing up, I saw Mr. Smith staring down at me. My hand automatically had covered the doodling in my notebook, but he snatched it up off of my desk and flipped through it, frowning as he realized that I must have been doing this every single day of eighth grade.
“Talk to me after class,” he muttered as he dropped it back on my desk and continued to lecture us about Shakespeare. With a sigh, I resigned to note-taking. Thursday had not turned out too well.
Friday.
Article for current events turned in. Storyboard for computer project turned in and approved. Art project picture turned in and mapped out on the final paper. Detention for doodling Celtic Thunder singer names and songs and drawing pictures of the lads served. Mr. Smith was a Thunderhead himself, having been recently converted along with all of my other teachers, but had given me a ten-minute detention nevertheless due to school rules. He had complimented the drawings, but said to try not to draw in the future. At least, be more discreet about it.
Monday.
Time to start working on all of these projects. Current Events was this Friday, so I finished that first even though it took me all night.
Tuesday we had computers again, so I worked on my project using Scratch. I was almost half-way done.
Wednesday for art I started sketching the faces, the part I hated most second only to the hands. Unfortunately for me, only one of the lads had been kind enough as to hide one hand behind the other, leaving only his right to draw. Is it any wonder that I like him the most?
Thursday was spent preparing for Current Events. I put together a PowerPoint with ten slides of my subjects, careful to reveal the identities of them at the very end. While I would be talking, “I Still Haven't Found What I’m Looking For” would be playing. I rehearsed so that my speech would fit perfectly into the 3:41 minutes I had. With any luck, my teacher would appreciate every detail, since she was an avid fan of Celtic Thunder.
Friday.
The Big Day.
Current Events went excellently, and I was silently cheering when the class began singing along with the song. However, when I introduced the performers as the very ones they hated, I almost laughed when I saw the expressions on their faces. Some were amazed, others incredulous, and a few were flat-out furious. A few were confused by what had happened. When I finished speaking a moment before the song finished, someone commented, “Perfect timing.” It was exactly as I had planned.
After class, a few students came up to me and said that they liked the kilted pictures. “They have lovely legs,” one of them laughed. Others said they were going to buy that song on iTunes, while a few said they wanted to get the DVD because “that Paul guy” looked really funny.
The few weeks passed, and I turned in the other projects.
My art project won first place in the Art Show. It was of the lads in kilts, and I had actually brought in my poster to use that to help me draw.
The class loved the Scratch project in computers. I had two sprites, one a Thunderhead and one not. The second would come in asking to go to a party, but the first would say no, he was going to a Celtic Thunder concert. He would then continue to talk about the group, showing posters, the website, and talking about the concert. It ends with the second sprite asking where he could get tickets.
The second-to-last day of school, a few people came up to me and said that they had bought tickets.
For graduation later that night, we were all given a small parting gift from the school since there were only thirteen of us. Practically everyone got some sort of gift-card, a few received DVD’s or CD’s, and one person got a set of really good markers, the professional kind. When I opened mine, however, I found a pack of postcards. I immediately recognized them as the set that was sold on the Celtic Thunder shop page. As I unbound them, I froze. Checking to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, I flipped through the stack, reading the text.
Each card was signed with a short inscription…by the lads!
“Happy Graduation, Iryna!” was written on most of the cards, except for Paul’s. His was slightly different, with a few more phrases, but at the end it said, “Open the envelope.” His signature was awesome, looping around the letters and with three “x”‘s around the huge B of his last name. Smiling, I did just that.
Inside was a card that had the word “VIP” written on it.
I glanced up at the others in surprise. I knew how much it cost, and I also knew relatively how much the other gifts cost, so I was amazed. They all had grins on their faces, watching me expectantly.
“How…” I trailed off, unable to finish the question.
Alex took a step forward from the crowd of friends gathered around, curious to see what everyone had received, and flashed that smile of his.
“The school got the cards. We then sent them to the guys, and they signed it. It was Paul’s idea to provide the ticket, so we just pooled the money together to pay for part of it, and he said he would pay for the rest. Well, now you have a VIP ticket which acts as a backstage pass as well as tickets for the actual concert. Which, as I recall, are practically the best seats in the house,” he added with a wink.
(He was going with me to the concert, so that was what the wink was about.)
“Well, I really don’t know what to say, except thank you so much. This is probably the best gift I’ve ever gotten in my life, and I’m not just saying that.” I looked around at them, realizing just how far we had gone from a few weeks ago.
We went inside for the last dance at this school as friends.
For my belated birthday party, almost everyone gave me something to do with Celtic Thunder—the black kilted T-shirt, a new poster, and the new DVD and CD. Others gave me gift-cards to either B&N or the CT online store.
And now, a few months later, I see that my whole class, a few teachers, and several of my friends from younger years pop up on the pub every now and again, Thunderheads forever.
*For those who don’t know, a 5-5-5 Rubix Cube has 25 squares on each side. It is extremely hard to solve, but Alex can put it together really fast. He can put a normal 3-3-3 cube together in 27 seconds.
I looked away, knowing that there was no way I could possibly be able to have any friends for a while simply because I did not listen to rap or hip-hop. Was it my fault I had grown up with music from the sixties, seventies, eighties, and such? That I loved Irish music and culture, especially the music and art? That a certain group called Celtic Thunder had me completely under their spell? That I thought one singer in particular was incredibly attractive even though he was almost seventeen years older than me? Yeah, that made me the least popular person in the class even more than before. And in this school, that was not a good thing.
“It’s not like you guys have even heard them sing,” I protested, even as I knew that this was going to be another lunch were I sat alone. They gave a unanimous “Whatever” under their breaths and just walked away, leaving me standing in the hall. Sighing, I put the books down by my next class and made my way to the patio where everyone was gathered to eat lunch. Finding a quiet spot, I sat down, expecting to block out the world for the next twenty minutes as I always did.
Suddenly, a lunchbox dropped down beside me, followed by a lanky form about my height. A scrambled 5-5-5 Rubix Cube came last, clattering down and landing a few inches away from me.
“Hey,” said Alex. He was a year younger than me, but we had quickly found several things in common: we both loved to put together Rubix cubes; we lived more or less near each other; we liked the same music; and he looked a bit like Paul Byrom with his bright blue eyes and brown hair that was either spiky or flopping down into his eyes, depending on how hard the homework had been the day before. His innate sense of humor was not understood by anyone except those that also liked Celtic Thunder. “It’s hopeless trying to sit with them, just as it’s hopeless trying to convince them to like the same music.” He gave me one of his signature grins, immediately lightening my dreary mood.
“Thanks, Alex, but this is annoying me a lot. They hate something with all their heart simply because it’s different from what they listen to. Talk about xenophobia.”
“Yeah, true. So, are you still going to their concert?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” I laughed. “Of course I’m going!”
“Hey, I have to make sure!” he said, and then brought up the solved Rubix Cube.
“How fast was that?”
“3 minutes, 17 seconds.”
“Dang it, I didn’t beat my record. (2 minutes 41 seconds). Scramble it again, this time harder.”
Lunch went by faster and better than I had first expected.
* * *
“All right, class, you are going to do a project on current events. Please have your articles in by Friday so that I can look over them over the weekend and give you feedback on Monday.”
This was Monday, and my history teacher just assigned something that would begin converting my class into Thunderheads.
* * *
“Class, for the last few weeks of school, I want you to all come up with some sort of project to do in our computer class. You may use any program you want, and may work either individually or in groups. Proposals due tomorrow.”
This was Tuesday. My computer teacher had just given me yet another idea on how to convert my class.
* * *
“Okay, you guys, we have only four more art classes left before you graduate. For these last few classes, I want you to bring in a picture of your favorite singer or actor, and you will be drawing them.”
“Can I draw a wolf? Jacob turns into one, you know,” someone called out.
While the room was filled with groans and squeals, depending on who liked to draw and who didn’t, I realized that this was one more way towards my goal. Wednesday had given me another good reason.
* * *
“What are you doing?”
I jumped as a thunderous boom echoed above my head. Glancing up, I saw Mr. Smith staring down at me. My hand automatically had covered the doodling in my notebook, but he snatched it up off of my desk and flipped through it, frowning as he realized that I must have been doing this every single day of eighth grade.
“Talk to me after class,” he muttered as he dropped it back on my desk and continued to lecture us about Shakespeare. With a sigh, I resigned to note-taking. Thursday had not turned out too well.
* * *
Friday.
Article for current events turned in. Storyboard for computer project turned in and approved. Art project picture turned in and mapped out on the final paper. Detention for doodling Celtic Thunder singer names and songs and drawing pictures of the lads served. Mr. Smith was a Thunderhead himself, having been recently converted along with all of my other teachers, but had given me a ten-minute detention nevertheless due to school rules. He had complimented the drawings, but said to try not to draw in the future. At least, be more discreet about it.
* * *
Monday.
Time to start working on all of these projects. Current Events was this Friday, so I finished that first even though it took me all night.
Tuesday we had computers again, so I worked on my project using Scratch. I was almost half-way done.
Wednesday for art I started sketching the faces, the part I hated most second only to the hands. Unfortunately for me, only one of the lads had been kind enough as to hide one hand behind the other, leaving only his right to draw. Is it any wonder that I like him the most?
Thursday was spent preparing for Current Events. I put together a PowerPoint with ten slides of my subjects, careful to reveal the identities of them at the very end. While I would be talking, “I Still Haven't Found What I’m Looking For” would be playing. I rehearsed so that my speech would fit perfectly into the 3:41 minutes I had. With any luck, my teacher would appreciate every detail, since she was an avid fan of Celtic Thunder.
* * *
Friday.
The Big Day.
Current Events went excellently, and I was silently cheering when the class began singing along with the song. However, when I introduced the performers as the very ones they hated, I almost laughed when I saw the expressions on their faces. Some were amazed, others incredulous, and a few were flat-out furious. A few were confused by what had happened. When I finished speaking a moment before the song finished, someone commented, “Perfect timing.” It was exactly as I had planned.
After class, a few students came up to me and said that they liked the kilted pictures. “They have lovely legs,” one of them laughed. Others said they were going to buy that song on iTunes, while a few said they wanted to get the DVD because “that Paul guy” looked really funny.
* * *
The few weeks passed, and I turned in the other projects.
My art project won first place in the Art Show. It was of the lads in kilts, and I had actually brought in my poster to use that to help me draw.
The class loved the Scratch project in computers. I had two sprites, one a Thunderhead and one not. The second would come in asking to go to a party, but the first would say no, he was going to a Celtic Thunder concert. He would then continue to talk about the group, showing posters, the website, and talking about the concert. It ends with the second sprite asking where he could get tickets.
The second-to-last day of school, a few people came up to me and said that they had bought tickets.
For graduation later that night, we were all given a small parting gift from the school since there were only thirteen of us. Practically everyone got some sort of gift-card, a few received DVD’s or CD’s, and one person got a set of really good markers, the professional kind. When I opened mine, however, I found a pack of postcards. I immediately recognized them as the set that was sold on the Celtic Thunder shop page. As I unbound them, I froze. Checking to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, I flipped through the stack, reading the text.
Each card was signed with a short inscription…by the lads!
“Happy Graduation, Iryna!” was written on most of the cards, except for Paul’s. His was slightly different, with a few more phrases, but at the end it said, “Open the envelope.” His signature was awesome, looping around the letters and with three “x”‘s around the huge B of his last name. Smiling, I did just that.
Inside was a card that had the word “VIP” written on it.
I glanced up at the others in surprise. I knew how much it cost, and I also knew relatively how much the other gifts cost, so I was amazed. They all had grins on their faces, watching me expectantly.
“How…” I trailed off, unable to finish the question.
Alex took a step forward from the crowd of friends gathered around, curious to see what everyone had received, and flashed that smile of his.
“The school got the cards. We then sent them to the guys, and they signed it. It was Paul’s idea to provide the ticket, so we just pooled the money together to pay for part of it, and he said he would pay for the rest. Well, now you have a VIP ticket which acts as a backstage pass as well as tickets for the actual concert. Which, as I recall, are practically the best seats in the house,” he added with a wink.
(He was going with me to the concert, so that was what the wink was about.)
“Well, I really don’t know what to say, except thank you so much. This is probably the best gift I’ve ever gotten in my life, and I’m not just saying that.” I looked around at them, realizing just how far we had gone from a few weeks ago.
We went inside for the last dance at this school as friends.
For my belated birthday party, almost everyone gave me something to do with Celtic Thunder—the black kilted T-shirt, a new poster, and the new DVD and CD. Others gave me gift-cards to either B&N or the CT online store.
And now, a few months later, I see that my whole class, a few teachers, and several of my friends from younger years pop up on the pub every now and again, Thunderheads forever.
*For those who don’t know, a 5-5-5 Rubix Cube has 25 squares on each side. It is extremely hard to solve, but Alex can put it together really fast. He can put a normal 3-3-3 cube together in 27 seconds.