“Hey Mac, you might want to see this,” Devon said as she shook me awake.
I groggily pried my eyes open and stifled a yawn before throwing back the covers and joining Devon at her laptop. She pulled up her general feed wall from Facebook and scrolled down until she reached one of her friends who had posted a video. Underneath the video was the caption, Genius! Maybe I should rant for my next session!
Devon clicked ‘Play’ and a shaky recording of my performance from 3 days earlier began playing. At some points, the camera turned away from me and moved to the back toward Jesse and Emma. The camera zoomed in on Emma’s wide green-blue eyes and her flushed face before focusing on Jesse’s tight-lipped expression, complete with crossed arms and his hands gripping the sides until they were white. She let it play for a few more seconds before stopping it altogether.
“Who posted this?”
“Looks like Shane did,” Devon replied as she looked closely. “He did say something about filming the performances of his frat. Mac, do you want me to-”
“Nah its too late,” I sighed as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Everyone’s probably seen it or someone said something about it to their friends. I’ll just deal with the repercussions now.”
Devon threw me a sympathetic look before going back to check her e-mail. I pulled clothes from my dresser drawers and prepared to survive another day. The last 3 days were surprisingly quiet, with only a few people who even bothered to show up to the comedy night running into me. Jesse had been giving me the cold shoulder and Emma seemed to be even more scarce than usual. Fine with me.
“Hey gang!” Professor Sykes greeted us. He set his coffee mug down and prompted us to open our creative writing notebooks for the warm-up exercise. Usually it was something like, write down a word and have another person use that word in their write-up or start with this sentence, etc. I reached down into my tote for my notebook and a pen, when I felt the chair next to me nudge my bag. I glanced up to see it was Chance pulling the chair out to sit next to me. He played for our soccer team and often times was forced to bring absence slips to Sykes for him to sign. Come to think of it, I hadn’t heard him read any samples of his writing yet. Well whatever, he would have to say something when we start writing our final stories.
“Today’s warm-up is inspired by Mckayla’s performance at the comedy event on campus,” Professor Sykes began. He looked over at me with a smile and I forced myself to smile back, despite the fact that most of the kids in the first few rows were glaring me down with hatred. One of them was Rachelle, this snotty brat who wrote stories reminiscent of Gossip Girl and frankly, they lacked depth and meaning. She hated my roommate Devon after a small incident at Orientation and decided that I was hate-worthy too. Sure Rachelle, like that made perfect sense at all.
“I’d like everyone to write down 5 confessions either about yourself, maybe a friend, or even someone in this class,” Professor Sykes continued. “Try to keep profanity and pettiness out of them. I’d really like to have a some what civil morning. You will have 20 minutes, which starts…now.”
I looked down at the blank page in my notebook and creased my brows. Did I have to come up with more? And why did I have to be the star of the warm-up today?
Stop complaining and write something, I told myself as I uncapped my pen.
5 Confessions 11/3/2012
- Steve Jobs is a genius and is owning Bill Gates and Microsoft. Apple Store Geniuses = brilliant idea!
- Authors of teen books need to realize that not everyone’s cup of tea is fantasy romances like Twilight or Gossip Girl. Not everyone is having a hot hook-up or cares about designer clothes.
I hate Rachelle for being a dweeb.I have no idea what I’m going to write for our final stories.
- Dr. Pepper no longer tastes like it used to.
Coca Cola sucks for changing it.Wish that it was the same as the first time it was made.
- Devon Wachs should be on So You Think You Can Dance.
There. Now they weren’t anything brilliant but I tried. And I sort of censored myself to avoid getting burned by anyone else.
“Time’s up!” Professor Sykes announced. “Anyone feel like sharing?”
Rachelle shot her hand up and I suppressed my grimace. She always volunteered to go first. “I wrote that I hate the writers of Gossip Girl for making Chuck and Blair be an item, Reality TV sucks, I need to stop sleeping with wet hair because it dries weird, Sequels are not necessary in movies, and…I really hate Mckayla for making us do this assignment.”
Professor Sykes shook his head at her and reminded her that we were supposed to try to keep the pettiness out of these confessions. He turned to me and prompted me to read mine.
“Uh yeah,” I mused. “1. Steve Jobs owned Bill Gates. The whole Apple Store Geniuses thing was brilliant. 2. Authors of teen books need to write about something else other than sparkly vampires and designer-obsessed prep school chicks. 3. I have no idea what to write about for our final stories. 4. I wish that Dr. Pepper didn’t change formulas because it tastes weird. And 5. My roommate needs to go on So You Think You Can Dance.”
Professor Sykes gave me a wan smile and I could tell that he seemed disappointed. I shrugged my shoulders and looked back down at my notebook. My eyes wandered over to Chance’s notebook and I noticed that he hadn’t written anything. The only thing on his page was doodles and scribbles in the margins. Guess he wasn’t inspired by this prompt.
We listened to a few more responses before discussing things to avoid in creative writing. I bent my head down and buried myself in the lecture while others bore their eyes into me. Sorry people, sorry I had to ruin your first class of the day.