Chapter 5: The New Guy

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 173
Comments: 3

The next morning is what my Grandpa might call a TFD: a total fuckin disaster. We’ve all had em I guess, and this was one of mine.
I guess it’s one of those days where you’re glad to go to school cause at least you know what’ll happen once you get there.
Given I was tired and super high and basically out of it all day yesterday, I guess I forget to hide the rest of the weed I had in my backpack and (apparently) my dad found it last night while he was downstairs at 3am. 
And now he’s pissed, and maybe for a good reason.

Anyway, I wake up the next day as Dad (followed my Mom) bursts in the room.
“CHARLES,” Dad says, holding the bag of weed in his hand, “the FUCK ye doin with WACKY TABACCI??”
“Oh, Archie, don’t talk to our son that way,” Mom says, Momishly.
“Oh for feckin CHRISSAKE, Pattie.”
“’s fine,” I mumble, “I’ll get up-”
“Ohhh it’s FINE now?” he says, in a slight layer of sarcasm. 
“Yeah, I didn’t smoke it, I was saving it for-”
“SEE??” Mom says, pointing at me, shivering. “Archie, don’t do this...”
“All NIGHT, I’m up,” Dad says. “I can’t get a minute of sleep, Charlie, thinkin we got a stoned kid up in heah. You’re gonna go brain dead, like feckin Bob Mahley or somethin.” Then he walks out and slams the door so hard that the cross on the wall shakes.
Mom looks at me, trembling. “Charles...” her voice cracks.
“Mom... I’m sorry, you don’t deserve-”
“Charles, just do what your Daddy says.” 
“Alright... he shouldn’t be talking to you that way. He could’ve just bickered at me, at least I deserved it.” Then I grin and make this face that’s supposed to be funny but Mom doesn’t even look at me.
“Charles, Daniel’s in the car,” she finally says, her voice even softer than usual. 
I walk out into the car where Danny gives me this look like he knows I‘m in deep ass trouble. Then he starts the car without saying anything.

When I walk into Mrs. Winoker’s band class there’s a new kid sitting in the seat next to mine. 
This seat is usually the empty seat that divides the violin players from the cello players, but today there‘s a guy sitting there, this surfer-looking bleach blonde dude who‘s probably the best looking human bean I’d ever seen.
It’s weird seeing someone this attractive in this school, here in the middle of nowhere. He has white Vans, gray sweatpants, and one of those hip graphic tees you’d find in a gift shop in Miami.
The shirt was white with a cartoon drawing of a horse wearing sunglasses, and the words “SAY NEIGH TO CIGARETTES” in big neon letters underneath.
He also smells good, like so fuckin good, like he’d just sprayed himself with Antonio Banderas’ cologne or something.
I pause for a second, thinking of what I should say to this new guy to introduce myself, or if I should kinda sit there and pretend not to notice him.
“...Say NEIGH to cigarettes,” I finally say, (making a horse noise on the word “neigh.”)
He looks up as if making sure I was talking to him, then looks down at his shirt. “...Oh yeah, haha. Cigarettes are... fuckin bad for a horse, you know?”
I laugh a little. “I mean, I don’t know,” I say, as I take out my violin, “horses DO like beer, apparently.”
He shakes his head as if confused, “wait, what? They like beer? aHAHAHAHAHA.”
(He has this laugh like a villain in an 80s movie who’d dare the new kid to blow up their elderly neighbor’s 1981 Buick Skylark, if that makes sense.)
“I don’t know. I know this one horse won a horse race once, and then his trainer let him drink a cold beer to celebrate. Or maybe it was his owner, I don’t know.”
“...Bullshit. You’re making this up. Hehehehe.”
“I mean, a beer isn’t a lot for a horse. Plus he earned it, you know?”
“Fuck YEAH he did,” he says, “I mean, shit. I’d be butthurt if I won a horse race and the trainer didn’t give me a cold beer afterwards.”
“Yeah true,” I say.
“He’d be butthurt too if the horse had its way. Get it?? AHEHEHE.”
I snort really awkwardly and I feel myself almost peeing myself from trying not laugh.
“Wait, dude, uhh, what’s your name?” he asks.
“Uh... Charlie,” I say, “Charlie Burrell.”
His face lights up. “...BURREEEELLLLLLLL!!!!!”
“Wait... what? Haha.”
“Your Jake Jones’ buddy, right?”
“Sort of, haha. Like, I kinda know him, I guess.” (Jake is a total dick btw, I just bought some edibles from him a couple times.) “I tried some dank jolly ranchers from him yesterday, actually.” 
“I sold em to him, dude. I am HIS maker. I’m Noah, by the way. aHAHAHAHAHA.”
“Ohhh damn, I think I’ve seen you on his Snapchat story doing all sorts of shit.”
“YEP, that’s me. AheheHEHEHE!”
“I thought you went to Cockburn Academy though?” 
“Yeah dude,” Noah says, shaking his head. “until last week.”
CONTEXT: Cockburn Academy is this school for all the lax bros with rich parents who just couldn’t crap in the same urinals as everyone else, so they go there and pay thousands a year instead of going to a normal school like this one.
“Nice,” I say, “JHS must be, uh... different.”
“Yeah, there’s uniforms and stuff at Cockburn, and here we can wear whatever the fuck we want. But I don’t know. School is school. It’s all... I don’t know, fuck that school, Burrell. Just fuckin bull fuckery. AheheHEHEHE.”
“Yeah, hahah true. Yo so like, you just transferred here?”
Noah shakes his head. “I got EXPELLED. Best FUCKIN day of my life.”
“Oof,” I say, “so like... I won’t judge or anything, but like ...what did you do?”
“What did I DO, or what did I get CAUGHT for? AheheHAHAHA.”
“Either one,” I say,
“Well I spraypainted a... uh,” he giggles, “indecent image onto the school,” he says, using his Robert Siegel-sounding overly intellectual voice.
“What exactly did you, uhh... spraypaint?”
“Uhhh... ahehehe...” Noah’s face turns red, “...Eugene Krabs with... with a huge red penis.” 
We both giggle. Then he shows me a picture on his phone of the graffiti with Mr. Krabs and his enormous monkey.
“Holy shit,” I say, “that’s a work of art. It defines the universe in its entirety.”
“Yeah dude. Fuckin NAILED it, ahahahahHAHA. Yo so what other classes do you have?” he asked. 
“Well I have gym period four, period five I have math with Mr. Carter, period six I have AP Spanish with Mrs. Marquez, and period seven I have English with Mrs. Emerson.”
“Period four I have HEALTH,” he says. “I wanna see if I can take it next quarter instead. Like, fuck health.” 
“What’s wrong with health?”
“I don’t know. Less, uh, ...gym shorts. You feel me? Hehehe.”
“Ohhh yeah, haha,” I say, “also Jake’s in that class.”
“Oh REALLY,” he narrows his eyes and giggles, “Jake mothafuckin Jones! I really gotta switch to that class now.”
“Yeah, you should! And probably the cutest babe in the school is in that class too, you’ve probably noticed her already.”
“Maybe, hahaha, what’s her name?”
“This girl Maddie,” I say, a little quietly. “She’s the captain of the volleyball team, you know her?”
Noah giggles. “A VOLLEYBALL GIRL? Whooooa, Burrell, you got a thing for the THICC girls, hmm?” He grabs my ass from under my seat and squeezes it through my sweatpants when he says the word ‘thicc.’ Then he laughs. “I’m just fuckin with you, Burrell. aHAHAHAHAHA.”
“Hahah, it’s all good... anyway yeah, I just meant she’s cool. The whole class is pretty nice, I guess.”
“Yeah, lets fuckin do this, Burrell. I’m gonna steal your thicc volleyball girl away from you. AHAHAHAHHAA.”
“Trust me, I’m not her boyfriend. YET. I’m her MEME PLUG. Which in a healthy relationship is what comes before- as well as during- the time you’re a girl’s boyfriend. You feel me?”
“Uh... I don’t know, I’ve never created a meme before. Ahehehe.” Noah unwraps some gum and pops it in his mouth. “Hey, what are the showers like at this school? Like... does everyone shower at the same time or... or what?.”
“Not really. Nobody showers here.”
“NOBODY SHOWERS HERE? Shit! AHEHEHAHAHAHA.” His gum flies out of his mouth.
“I mean, like there’s a couple shower stalls in the back that some chubby boi might use now and then if he’s really sweaty, but it’s mostly just for the kids who play sports.”
“Ohhh. So if I wanted to take a dump in the shower nobody would know it was me? Ahehehehe.”
I snort. “I mean, Santa Claus is always watching and all that shit, but as far as real people, no, nobody would know.”
“Oh true true. Shit, that fucked me up when you said ‘nobody showers here.’ I was thinking its like a hillbilly thing not to shower. But even in hillbilly hell, we have standards!” he says in this Ms. Sally from Cars voice. “...AHEHEHEHEHE.”
Just then Mrs. Winoker tells us it’s time to start our warm ups and all that.
As I’m playing I look over at Noah now and then, seeing how perfect he looked and how perfect he played his violin and I feel that MAYBE, just maybe, I’d actually found a new friend at this shithole.

At lunch I play Cards Against Humanity with Robbie and this guy named Yu Tin who I met a couple weeks ago. 
Yu Tin is this Taiwanese exchange student who we recently found out was extremely, extremely fucked up (in a good way, if that makes sense.)

I walk over to the sad corner where we sit and he’s already there.
“You... you... I know your name. Is...”
“Charlie, haha..”
“...Charlie! Yes, good shit, I always forget your name. You watch debate?” 
“Unfortunately, yeah. SECRETARY CLINTON, CAN I CALL YOU THAT?!?! Jesus.”
“Good shit,” he says, shaking his head, “I think Melania is so tired of him. If I were her I would grab Trumps penis and superglue it to his belly with gorilla glue and cut testicles off with Home Depot chainsaw.”
I snort. “Yeah, probably.”
“He stinks, apparently. They don’t even sleep in the same bed. I don’t think she wants that ogre and his sweaty moobs to sleep next to her.”
“REALLY?” I say, “good shit!”

Just then Robbie lumbers over and flops himself. 
“Hey my dude,” I say, opening my protein bar wrapper.
He slams his backpack down. “You guys, I’ve had the shittiest day ever. Mr. Faxer was a fuckin asshole.”
Yu Tin shrugs. “You can always decapitate him, right?”
We all laugh. “Yo,” I say, “I think some Cards Against Humanity would make us all feel a little better.”
I take out the game from my backpack and deal all the cards.
The thing that sucks about playing with Yu Tin (as much as I like him) is he always- ALWAYS seems to get the best cards and always puts down the right card at the right time, and therefore always wins.
(We all put a card down each round cause we only have three players, btw.)

The first prompt card is “Every Christmas, my uncle gets drunk and tells the story about ____”

The next card is “instead of coal, Santa now gives the bad children _____”
I put down “HOT POCKETS.”

The next card is “a romantic dinner would be incomplete without _____”
I put down “GOGURT.”

The next card is “it’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is ______”

The next card is “in a world ravaged by _____ our only solace is _______”

The next card is “before I kill you, Mr. Bond, I must show you ___”
The card I put down is “ANAL.”

You get the point.

In the hallway just before Emersons class I see Maddie getting some stuff out of her locker.
I flip my hair and scrunch my face and grin in a way that’s supposed to look like an (Elvis?) sort of grin but probably looks more like Wallace from Wallace and Gromit.
“Hey Maddie,” I say. I lean against the lockers with my hand in my hoodie pockets trying to do the pose, if you feel me. 
“Charlie, hey.”
“Yo so like... remember that group project in Emerson’s class that we gotta get in groups for?”
“Yeah, what about it?” she closes her locker, swinging her backpack over her shoulder.”
“Yeah, so like, me and Robbie need a third person and are wondering if you’d help us elevate our grade from a 40 percent to like maybe a 60, I don’t know.”
“Trust me, I think 40 is an overestimate for you two.” She says, sneering. “I mean, I would, but like... I’m actually working with Gary and Levi. So idk...” 
(She actually says “IDK,” like the letters.)
”Yo, no worries. Shit, I bet Gary’s grades probably make Robbie’s look like a Peking University student.”
“But his intestines are really long. Remember?”
CONTEXT: this one time for our warm up Mrs. Emerson had us analyze the quote that went like “the longest journey is the journey inward,” or something like that, and when she called on Gary (who wasn’t paying attention) and he’s like “...YA KNOW, CAUSE YOUR INTESTINES ARE REALLY LONG” and nobody knew whether to laugh or blow their own heads off.
“Yeah,” I say, “that’s a long journey inward he has going on, you know?”

Maddie and I walk in to Emerson’s class and I sit down. 
Emerson sees me and waddles over to my desk, slowly, in a way that lowkey scares the McJesus out of me.
“How was lunch?” she says, and grins, Emersonishly.
“It was... dope I guess, haha.”
“How was your assignment from yesterday?”
“I...” oh shit, “I-”
“You realize that was today, right? When you were supposed to come in and do it?”
“...What? Oh dang... I...” BULLSHIT!! “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Emerson, I... I just forgot to actually do the stuff. Like... I just lost the brain cell of this assignment, I don’t know.”
“It sure seems you did,” she says, sarcastically. “Well Charles, you get a zero. And Robbie, you as well.”
I look over at Robbie who’s digging his finger in his nostril as if the key to a Byzantine golden treasure chest is up there, and he’s not even paying attention. Then I glance at Maddie and she raises her eyebrow as if to say some version of “what have you done this time.”
“Well... dang, I gotta be real, I fully deserve it,” I say. “But, is there a chance I can offer a few hundred bucks to turn that zero to at least a 90?”
A couple kids laugh nervously. Emerson sighs. “You’re asking to pay me for a higher grade on an assignment you simply could’ve done when you were you supposed to?”
“No, I’m just kidding. Even if I had hundreds of dollars this definitely isn’t how I’d spend it.” 
A few more laughs break out. “Charles, sit down,” Emerson mutters, now sounding a little annoyed.
I walk back to my seat. Robbie is still just sitting there, digging endlessly for boogers. 
“Robbie...” I say. “
“Oh hey,” he says, then holds out the hand he was pickin his nose with for a high five.
I look at it reluctantly and don’t return it. “Robbie we got a zero on that paper.”
He burps extremely loudly then snorts. “Well, that paper can go fuck itself,” he says.
“And we have nobody else for the group assignment. Maddie is working with Gary.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin hate that guy.”
“Same my dude, same. Yo so like... I don’t think there’s any polite way of saying this, but we’re fucked.”
Robbie glances up at me, his doughy face looking sad. “...Alright, sure,” he says. Then he starts picking his nose again.

As Emerson is talking (I’m not paying attention btw, just looking at memes with my phone between my legs) a paper airplane hits my head and lands by my shoes.
I glance over at Lina, who waves to me from her desk. I look down at the paper airplane, then back at her and sigh, and pick it up from the ground.
It says: 


Well, at least she’s smart, I think. Plus I NEED a good grade on this crap.
I look back up at her and she wiggles her finger back and forth between me and her as if to say we can work together. I roll my eyes and shoot her a thumbs up.

A few minutes later Emerson says we’re gonna “brainstorm” for our group projects and that we need to get in our groups. 
“We have five groups in the class,” she says. “One group should work in the hallway where it’s quieter. Would anyone like to do that?”
Lina’s hand goes straight up.  
“Alright, Lina darling,” she hands Lina three papers. “Now, my children, get to work.”
I nudge Robbie. “Robbie, let’s go work.”
“What? Wait, fuck, I gotta go to the bathroom first. I have to take a shit of a Honda Odyssey.”
“Shit, you don’t have to tell me that much detail, just go.”

I walk out to the hallway where Lina is, and she’s wearing these floral pattern yoga pants and this huge blue argyle sweater thing that’s probably supposed to be “thrifty” or something, and I (lowkey) try not to laugh when I see the combo.
(That’s always KIND OF how she dresses, like an attempt at looking all hip and cool, but just an attempt.)
But who am I to talk with my oversized flannel hoodie and sweatpants.

“Lina, you’re aware Halloween isn’t until the 31st of October, right?”
“Ohhhh, REALLY? Wow Charlie, I didn’t realize it was dress up like a crackhead behind an Applebee’s in Auburn Alabama day today! Oh well.” She shrugs dramatically.
I turn red. “Wait WHAT? I... I thought that was TOMORROW. I had my Pikachu shirt and Gucci ladies underwear all laid out.”
Lina giggles. “Wow. Chussss,” she mutters.
“...Chuss? What?”
“Chuss. Chuss Marna. You know what that means?”
“Sounds like a salad or something.”
She rolls her eyes. “No you weirdo. It’s a phrase in Punjabi that we use when someone tells an extremely lame joke or says something else completely inconvenient.” She tilts her head and smiles.
“Whoaaa, I didn’t know that.”
“Whoaaa, I thought your family spoke Punjabi. Or PAKISTANI, as you called it.”
“Yeah, um... so like, I figured you and Maddie would be working together. I mean you let her copy your homework all the time.”
“Well I figured YOU’D want to work with Maddie and just look at her cute face the whole time with droll running down you chin, right?” she rolls her eyes.
“No, I’d probably just work and be FOCUSED. But... for real, like, you don’t have to work with two moronic dudes who can’t do any real work.”
She sighs. “WELL. I figured I should be with someone who needs a smart person in their group. You and Robbie need to elevate your Neanderthal mentalities with a much larger brain. Like mine!” She spins around, doing this ballet sort of move.
“Whoa, Lina I beg to DIFFER, I have a SORT OF large brain.”
Then I try doing that same spin move and hit my head on a locker and fall down, then bang my head on the floor. “...FUCK!”
Lina giggles. I stand up and shake my head. “Shit, sorry about that.”
She sighs. “Charlie... what you’re lacking is equilibrium.”
“Yes. You have to BALANCE your feet to maintain your weight and then you can do that spinning thing you just did, only more successfully this time.”
Then she spins around and does it again, and winks. “Like that. See?”
“Yeah, I see.” 
Just then Robbie comes back and we get to work.

It’s cool and sunny walking home from school and as I walk past the cornfield I see someone there by the corn: LINA!!
She turns around and notices me and I wave awkwardly, and she waves back, then walks over to me, holding a camera.
“Whoaaa,” I say, “are you taking pictures of... CORN?”
“Whoaaa, haven’t you ever seen a girl take pictures of CORN before?”
“...Yeah, hundreds, actually. But not THIS corn.” 
“Still life photography, dude. It’s swell.”
“Yeah, true.” I put my hands in my pockets. “Dang, I used to love going to the corn maize here.”
“I’ve lived here three years and never went yet.” She makes this fake sad face.
“There’s still time,” I say, “maybe you can go this year!” Then I make a fake sad face too, and then she makes a regular face.

Just then a leaf falls down from one of the trees and lands in her hair. She’s looking at me and doesn’t seem to notice it. 
“Whooaaaa. You wanna kindly pluck that leaf out?” she says, tilting her head. “I’m feeling too lazy.”
“Whooaaa. Sure, whatever.” I take the leaf out and hold it up. “Yo, this is cool.”
“Yeah. Leaves are swell, right?” she gently takes the leaf from my hand and looks at it, smiling. “I think I’ll keep it. Maybe even take a picture of it, and keep the picture too.”
“And then whenever you look back at it you can remember the time that leaf fell into your hair and I plucked it out cause you were too lazy?”
“Yeah, actually I will,” she says. Then she laughs and it’s actually (sort of) a really cute laugh.

I look around and suddenly realize the breeze is cool and the leaves are orange and gold and here’s this girl with her cute laugh and all that and it’s actually a really dope sight. 
I try to hold back my smile but can’t, and I bite my lip. “Well, I gotta go, Lina,” I say. “Have fun taking pictures of leaves.”
She crosses her arms. “You’re still going to the bake sale tomorrow, right?”
“That... oh yeah, um... yeah! If I can remember it.”
“Swell. So, you better remember it,” she says, “and you better buy something. Otherwise I’ll have no choice but to kill you.” Then she scrunches her face.
“Yeah,” I mutter, my hands in my pockets, “I’ll go there, AND I’ll buy something. I promise.”

Submitted: October 12, 2020

© Copyright 2021 CJ Spuddz. All rights reserved.


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Add Your Comments:



I love how this chapter starts out with such an angry interaction and throws you right into chaos. Some parents seem to think weed is equivalent to meth lol. Noah seems like a really fun guy but also a guy who could get anyone in trouble. Noah, a dealer, sounds like the kind of guy you would absolutely not want in a rich preppy private school lol, it's no wonder he was expelled xD

The Cards Against Humanity part of this chapter brought back so many good memories, ah I miss that game xD It really spiced up this chapter, and showed how unexpectedly hilarious the exchange student is. There is always that one guy who just seems to annihilate everyone during that game lol. This chapter was like a rollercoaster of adventure before ending on a softer, lighter note, with Charlie realizing that Lina is cute. I really like how they interact, they're so close and I can definitely see their relationship growing throughout the story. Great job once again, this is so well written and I'm looking forward to the next chapter!

Mon, October 12th, 2020 4:06pm


Nice chapter man! This was a hilarious one lol. Can't wait for more!

Wed, October 14th, 2020 4:40am


I'd forgot the dad was Irish but seeing 'feck' written into his dialogue copped me on xD This Noah character seems like a right mad yoke - definitely the kind of lad who'd get everyone into trouble but no one would care 'cause he's gas to be around. The Cards Against Humanity segment brought back some memories - I was so good at that game it was actually quite worrying xD Ugh, the whole 'idk' thing bugs me when people type it, but SAYING it?? There's a girl in my year who says 'lol' instead of actually laughing at anything ... They say we've advanced as a society, but people like that make me beg to differ. Good chapter, let me know when you update it :)

Mon, October 19th, 2020 12:51am

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