Always My Girl

Spanish II

Lorelei

    I quietly slide pass the group of seniors joking loudly outside the door and quickly take a seat in the back. I have no doubt that this class will be made up entirely of upper classmen, just like Intro to Spanish last semester. My stroke of genius last year was to sign up for as many required classes as possible in an attempt to graduate early, an idea that had been bashed into the ground almost immediately my first day of 9th grade when I was informed that this district doesn't allow early graduations. "Your more than welcome to do work study, or half days between here and one of the nearby community colleges though." Ugh. 

    I honestly don't mind that this class will be older kids. I mean yea, it pretty much guarantees I won't know anyone but I really don't care. High school is just temporary. A stepping stone to my real life. I haven't decided yet what comes next, college or work, move to a big city or further out into the mountains. My preferences change day by day but I'll know when I get there. I just hate the way everything here is so forced. 

    High school makes me feel like a cow, or more specifically cattle. Everyone of us shoved into the same field or barn, shuttled from one stall to the next at the sound of the bell, making friends with the people around us out of sheer convenience of location. We have no way of knowing if any of these friendships are even real. How many of my friends now will still be there when we aren't forced together by four brick walls? No thanks. 

    I'm pulled from my rambling thoughts as the last bell rings and the loud group of seniors move into the room. Awesome... except not at all. I pull my bag out of the seat next to me and pull out a notebook before I start digging around in the bottom for a pen or pencil. I really need to organize more. When I look up, I see two of the group have sat in front of me, the remaining two in front of them. Luckily the seat beside me, sharing my table, remains empty. I toss my bag back into it. 

    Class starts and we go through the syllabus before our teacher, a Spanish woman who appears to be in her mid 40's, begins a review of Spanish I to see how much we remember. I quickly zone out and start doodling on the top of my notebook, only to realize a few minutes later, everyone is staring at me. 

    "I'm sorry, what?" I ask sheepishly, knowing I've been called on and have no idea what the question was. 

    "I'm looking for an example. Who is your favorite musician, or band?" Mrs. Mendoza asks again.

    "Oh, Don Henley," I answer.

    "Who? I've never heard of.." she begins.

    "It's classic rock." the boy in front of me informs her. "He was the drummer for The Eagles, did some vocals too."

     I look up at him, extremely surprised to find he no only knew which band Don Henley was in, but also his instrument. Yea, they were a pretty big deal at one point in time, but that was fifty to sixty years ago. 

    "He was lead on Hotel California right? And One Of These Nights?" He's turned around to look at me now and I am staring back into the greenest eyes I have ever seen. 

    "Yea. He also had a few solo albums. The Boys of Summer is probably his most popular.. Though I think Last Worthless Evening is better.." I trail off as Mrs. Mendoza picks back up. 

    "Anyway.. So If I were going to say.."

    I've zoned out again. Instead I find myself looking at the boy in front of me. He's clearly a senior, aside from myself and two juniors on the other side of the room, this class is taken up entirely by seniors who waited until the last possible moment to complete the foreign language requirement for graduation. He has short-ish dark blonde hair, a big dark piercing in his ear and from where I sit I can see a few tattoos trailing up his arms already. He's in decent shape but not in a way that says he works out all the time, more like he's just active. If I had to guess from where I sit, I'd say he's attractive. When he turned around earlier I was caught so off guard by his eyes I hadn't even paid attention to what he looked like. 

    Now he's looking down at a sketch book in front of him, mindlessly doodling, like I had been a few minutes before. I try to look over his shoulder to see what he's working on without being obvious but his large frame makes it impossible for me to see. Stupid not fully grown self. I start an exaggerated stretch right as the bell rings and almost fall out of my chair, catching myself before anyone notices. 

    He picks up his sketchbook and a thin notebook, apparently all he brought with him and stands to leave. Noticing me looking up at him, he smiles and OH MY GOD he is the most attractive person I have ever seen. I don't understand why I am so drawn to him, by no means is he textbook good looking, and most definitely not the type I'm normally attracted to but something about his smile, I can instantly feel my heart racing. 

    If he notices the affect he's having on me he doesn't show it. He simply nods at  me and walks out of the room. 

Noah

    I'm standing outside of the room, next to Lee and a few other guys, when I notice a tiny figure slipping by behind him and slide into the classroom. I've never seen her before, definitely a freshman, and probably going into the wrong room considering this is Spanish II. That means she would have had to have taken Intro last semester, in addition to her core classes. That's a lot more than I've seen anyone sign up for first thing. 

    When the bell rings, I make my way inside and see she's still there, sitting in a seat in the very back. I make my way over and sit in front of her. Surely when class starts she'll realize her mistake and I can take over the table. Mrs. Mendoza stands up and begins class. 

    "Alright, this is Spanish II. If you are not supposed to be in Spanish II, or have not taken Intro To Spanish, you are in the wrong place."

    I glance behind me, the girl is still there, absentmindedly drawing a realistic rose  across the front of her notebook and occasionally glancing up at the real thing outside of the window in the courtyard next to us. 

    "I see a lot of new faces in here," Mrs. Mendoza continues, "And several not so new," she looks at me. "Noah, if you want to graduate you might want to pay attention to me instead. I don't want you in here a third time."

    "Sorry." I answer and turn back around. I really should pay attention more, being bilingual would probably help a lot when I own my own shop. It definitely has more application towards being a tattoo artist than most of the other classes I've had to sit through here. If it were up to me I would have bailed as soon as I hit sixteen, got my GED, and started looking for and apprenticeship somewhere nearby, my parents wouldn't have been happy but they would have gotten over it. However there are certain things you cannot do when your grandmother is an 85 year old Chinese Immigrant. She may have actually killed me. 

    I pull out my sketchbook and pretend to take notes until the teacher turns around, then I immediately begin sketching while half listening just enough to avoid getting called out again. Halfway through class, Mrs. Mendoza calls on the tiny girl behind me. I look back and see her staring out the window again at the rose. 

    "Well, Lorelei?" She asks louder. Lee nudges my elbow beside me before gesturing down at my sketchbook and raising his eyebrows. I look down and see I have drawn the girl sitting behind me without realizing it, a book sits across her lap and a flower is in her hair. A rose. 

    "Shut up." I whisper, before flipping my sketchbook over.

    "I'm sorry, what?" she asks quietly. 

    "I'm looking for an example. Who is your favorite musician, or band?" Mrs. Mendoza asks again.

    "Oh, Don Henley," she replies, her voice, light and gentle. I'm surprised, a freshman girl who isn't obsessed with Beyoncé or something similar?  

    "Who? I've never heard of.." our teacher questions.

    "It's classic rock." I explain, its doubtful anyone else in this room knows who she's talking about. "He was the drummer for The Eagles, did some vocals too. He was lead on Hotel California right? And One Of These Nights?" I ask, turning around to look at her. I already know the answer, but I want to see if she does. I've met girls who have claimed to listen to better music just too seem more interesting when really they still have crap taste.

    Her blue eyes go wide as she stares directly into mine. "Um.. Yea. He also had a few solo albums. The Boys of Summer is probably his most popular.. Though I think Last Worthless Evening is better.." 

    "Anyway.." Mrs. Mendoza continues, "So If I were going to say.." I look into her blue eyes for a second longer before I turn away and start sketching again but find myself drawing another version of Lorelei and turn the page back, deciding instead to work on one of my previous sketches.  

    When the bell rings at the end of class I can't help but look back at her one more time. Her long hair is more strawberry than blonde but no enough to actually consider it to be red and she's not as small as I originally thought. She's wearing jeans and an oversized hoodie, clearly voting more for comfort and warmth than trying to impress anyone. I decide I'm going to have to get to know this girl after all.