I. I Still Think I'm Adopted *************************** Somewhere, someday These chains of mine Will melt away- \"Hey, Adela, writing your suicide note?\" The wretched sound currently penetrating my ears was none other than the voice of Brendon Mathis. The mayor of Douchebag City. Some would call him, what's the word? Hawt Of course, you have to say that with extra emphasis on the aw, like it's Yiddish or something. I guess you could call him good looking in a boring, conventional, jock sort of way. But the constant insults directed towards me rendered him quite repulsive. \"Oh believe me, Brendon, if I ever did off myself, I guarantee the suicide note would be chalk full of confessions of my undying love for you.\" He rolled his eyes and proceeded to stroll across the lawn of the school's campus with his other boring, conventional, jock friends. I stared at the horrible poem I was writing and cringed. It seems every time I try to write something down, I have aspirations of something inspiring and meaningful. It always comes out as teenage angsty diarrhea instead. I scribbled it out and went to class. High school is… high school. Nothing really that Hollywood should focus on. And yet they glamorize probably the most awkward time of your life and cast twenty something year olds to play the strangely put together \"teenagers\". (Acne free… of course) \"Ms. Bell, would you please correct Mr. Mathis on the definition of bourgeois?\" It was third period and Mr. Mathis, the mayor of Douchebag City, was continuing to prove to us all what an underachieving asshole he was. Mrs. Laughton, the history teacher, bitter from twenty years of teaching, got her petty pleasures from calling on Brendon to answer a question, and after he failed, called on me to humiliate him. Too bad she didn't understand that the modern teenager doesn't care for school or correct answers. I sighed, \"Bourgeois is a French word meaning 'an inhabitant of town'. It means the middle social class.\" I know I sound like I ate my history book, and I'm a total dweeb nerd geek. That's because I think I am a total dweeb nerd geek. And so does everyone else. Mr. Douchebag laughed and said, \"Well I guess that solves the mystery of why you don't have any friends.\" And of course everyone joined in. It's not that I'm hated here, it's just that most people are sheep and FuckFace McGee is a Border Collie. (Not as cute or smart, though). And when the Border Collie starts laughing those God damn sheep just need to laugh too, God forbid they find themselves left out. I rolled my eyes and said, \"God I hope you enjoy your life full of minimum wage and ramen noodles, Brendon.\" No one found that quite funny, but… am I right or am I right? I was walking through the halls after class when I passed by Erin Atkins. I think I've talked to her like… twice in my entire life but she finds it necessary to fire insults at me left and right… in other words the female counterpart of Brendon. \"Jesus, Adela, do you have to come to school and plague us with your presence, why can't you just be home schooled like all the other freaks?\" Now, I don't want to give you a stereotype, but Erin is blonde, tanned, pretty, curvy and… duh, popular. I know, it's been done to death, but who's easier to hate than a self absorbed bimbo? Exactly. \"So Erin,\" I began, \"When are we going to get together for the slumber party you keep mentioning, I think it'll be super fun.\" She looked confused, \"What?\" I smiled, \"I was being sarcastic, Erin. It's very useful, you should try it out, it's a great way to make fun of someone, maybe if you use it I'll get my feelings hurt next time.\" I winked at her and walked away. I went to fourth and took my place at my desk. I logged onto my computer and began to work on my webpage. Web design's an easy enough class, I needed a fourth and another elective, so why not something that will help me start up my porno site? Oh, how funny am I, making porn jokes? The kids started to file in and started to work on their pages as well, their myspace pages anyway. I really don't have any friends here, except for that mildly autistic kid in English who sometimes asks me how my day is going. But he can't pronounce R's and it's really irritating. I took the bus home, my brother Adam, who usually drives me, was too preoccupied doing… you know what, he wasn't doing anything at all, he just didn't want to take me home. I walked the couple of remaining blocks and found myself at home, it was an old Victorian house, and very large. I suppose my family couldn't have it any other way, what with having five kids. I'm the youngest and the only girl, and you can imagine how awkward that is. There's Edward, Ed, he's twenty five, and married with a baby. He's a computer engineer but he's currently working on his masters. Then there's Damien, twenty-two, finishing up his bachelors. He's going to law school next year, wants to become a defense attorney. Apparently the fact that all defense attorneys go to hell has escaped his attention… kidding, I just watch a lot of Law and Order. Then Luke, twenty, wants to become a rock star. The band he's currently in, Psycho Beluga, is rather popular locally, their biggest hit is \"Your blow hole has me doing meth.\" Lovely, no? He still lives at home. And then my dearest big brother, Adam, he's seventeen, he's ten months older than me. I was a preemie, maybe that's why I'm so small. He's… a dick wad, I know siblings close to age rarely get along, but really. He constantly treats me like shit and hates being within ten yards of me. All four of them are sociable, popular people and always made friends easily, and with four Bells already high school favorites (with teachers and students) it made my transition all that more awkward. I never really fit in and when everyone found out that I was the sister of Ed the quarter back or Luke the class clown, the confusion really set in, I got the frequent question, \"Are you adopted?\" And really, even though Adam stopped teasing me about being adopted when I was ten, I still think I am. The Bells are notorious for having the strongest monster genes ever, the whole lot of them are tall, blonde, blue eyed, Aryan freaks. Even my mother, a Bell by marriage, looked the part. But I… I am quite the opposite. I have pale, pale skin, bright red hair, and black, black eyes. Did I mention the 5'3\" part? I look like I've been kept in a small cage my entire life. I'm not athletic, extroverted, funny, popular, or beautiful, not like the rest of them. But what's a girl to do? Exude sarcasm and play a lot of video games, that's what! I opened the door and found my mother curled up on the couch with her laptop on her lap, “Hey mom, what are you doing?” She smiled up at me and peered around me, “Where’s Adam?” I shrugged, “I don’t know, probably still at school or something.” Her expression quickly turned into fury, “What? Didn’t he drive you home?” I smiled and shook my head. She uttered a quiet little scream of frustration and set the laptop down, “I swear to God, how many times do I have to tell him-” I sat down on the couch and took my shoes off, “Why don’t you just get me a car, then you don’t have to worry about Adam being an insensitive jerk.” She sighed and walked to the kitchen, “Christmas, sweetie, don’t worry. But I told him I don’t want you riding the city bus, who knows what could happen to you. And you know you’re supposed to call me if he does that to you!” “The bus was right there mom, I’m just fine on it, I have the incredible ability to turn invisible, no one bothers me!” “I’m serious, Adela, don’t get on the bus, just because you think you’re invisible doesn’t mean everyone else does. I can’t imagine some… monster seeing you and thinking you’re such a pretty little girl-” I sighed, “Fine mom, I won’t use the bus. But really, you’re overreacting!”
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