I am done with school. It's not over for another two weeks, but I'm done. Today I watched Oprah (health) talked to Bonnie about philosophers we don't like and the nature of everything (Odyssey) did nothing (precalc) and watched AmÈlie (French.)
Dave got up a few minutes into lunch without saying anything and left and didn't come back. Then Paul Yu came over and started talking to Julian about the Tri-M performance on Monday. They decided that the concert band kids were probably just watching movies at this point, so it would be okay for them to go to the band room and check something with Mr. Thomas. I was not involved in the conversation. I don't think Paul likes me. With reason, I guess. They left too. I was then left sitting at the table with Ivy and one of Ivy's lackeys. Ivy (uncharacteristically) stopped doing her homework and struck up a conversation with me about the Bagel Store. I tried to keep my answers to her questions as short as possible so that she would leave me the hell alone. But she didn't, so I figured I'd go to the band room and hang out with Julian and Paul or something. I could pretty well guess that that's where Dave had gone too. It was weird that he didn't say anything though.
I got to the band room. All of the concert band kids were actually sitting quietly, transfixed by a movie. Usually, the band room is chaotic during concert band, even when there are actually concerts coming up and music to be played. Julian and Paul were standing up at the back of the crowd, having what looked like a serious conversation. Also at the back, on the other side of the room from them, I saw Dave, with his arm around Molly. They were talking instead of watching the movie. I decided to turn around, since no matter who I hung out with I would be intruding and making people uncomfortable. But I didn't want to go back to the vast, loud, messy cafeteria and sit with Ivy. So I sat by myself in the doorway of the auditorium and ate the rest of my lunch, and glared at the occasional drama kid who would walk by and look at me funny, and felt miserable.
I sat there and hated highschool relationships and hated Molly and Dave for both being so artificial and weak. I hate the way he looks at her. I hate it when he puts his arm around her. I hate the way he pretends to be incredibly concerned about everything she complains about and incredibly interested in everything she says, when I'm pretty sure what he cares most about is the fact that his arm is around her, or how he can make it so that it soon will be. I hated highschool relationships because they're so obvious and exagerated and stupid. They exist because we're all so desperate for sex and eager to follow social norms. (I should bring her to the movies and to mini golf courses and put my arm around her whenever we are sitting next to each other. Yes, that is what I should do, and I will try very hard and be very intense and obvious about having a "good normal relationship.") I hated him for not telling me, for leaving me out. Not only for leaving me out, but for thinking that I would feel left out. For hiding it from me that he was going to see her. I hated him for pitying me, but I pitied myself. It's not fair. It's not fair. Look at them, being so happy and highschool cuddling in the fucking band room. Wipe those vacant, contented smiles off of your faces! You only love her because you're compelled to be someone's lackey, and you only love him because it raises your self esteem when someone worships you. It's a fucking business partnership! It's not real! What about your best friend, huh, your real best friend? Both of you! Either of you! I'm the connection between you, the original one, and now you've just thrown me out. And you've left me all alone in the fucking cafeteria with the fucking green hat prodigy.
I walked up to precalc. I debated whether or not I should be mad at him... Or I guess, whether or not I should act mad at him. I decided that I shouldn't. I decided not to confront him, either, about the not inviting me or at least telling me that I wasn't invited thing. I came to the conclusion that that would be being a psycho bitch. So I just talked to him about vague philosophy and personal observations like I do every day in math, and was a little quieter than normal, and called him on bullshitting a little more often than normal. (He bullshits a lot of what he says, expecially when it comes to philosophy and observations about himself.)
Since when has Julian taken my place in Tri-M anyway? He is clearly now the third-in-command (after Dominic) who does all the actual work. Even though I hate the whole organization a little bit now... That used to be my job! And now they don't even include me in their planning. And since when does Julian have all these good friends outside of our group - Stonerdrummer and Malcolm and Paul and RJ and Weird clarinetist? Why does he sound so much more comfortable talking to them than he does when he talks to me and Dave? Every time I'm around him, I am aware that I have all of Dave's faults - I am a vague, immature, bullshitting person who is simultaneously insecure and pompous. I am weak and devoid of good comebacks and have a stock of bad, self-serving stories which I tell over and over again.
In French I watched Julian watch AmÈlie. I enjoyed AmÈlie as well, but I've already seen it at least ten times, so I figured it would be more interesting to watch his reactions to it. At first I thought he was going to do his homework through the whole thing. But when the movie actually started he looked up from his book. He saw the bluebottle fly capable of 14,670 wing beats per minute get crushed by the truck, and the dancing glasses. He didn't look back again until AmÈlie's father ripped off the long peice of wallpaper. This made him smile a little. He missed the goldfish scene, which almost always makes me cry. He laughed audibly at the lines "trapese artists: they always drop you at the last minute" and "the telephone booth was calling me..." "just like this microwave - it's calling me." He smiled every time she dipped her hand into a sack of grain, but not like it was funny. He gradually shifted his chair towards the television, still half doing his homework, until AmÈlie said, "She was always a lonely child. She can't relate to others." standing alone in her apartment, at which point he closed his book, put in on his desk and turned his whole body to face the TV. (He has beautiful hands - delicate hands with rounded fingertips and long fingers, and bony wrists and long, spindly arms, and a beautiful, delicate, yet masculine jawline, and I like the way he moves, and I like the way his t-shirt wrinkles as it follows his body when he sits back in his seat.)
What I said in the last entry isn't completely true. It can't be, because I know some part of me was hoping that he'd watch the movie and that he'd like the movie, just because maybe then he would understand.
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