Dear Diary,
Did you know? Being top of the class isn't all that it's cracked up to be. In one way or another, you just end up falling into one clique or another in high school. It isn't like in the books, where a character who is simultaneously smart and attractive somehow ends up being the center of the classroom. Believe me, I am smart and attractive. Instead of being the apple of everyone's eye, I just end up being the person everyone comes to when they have a problem. Problem with your homework? Come to Angelica! Relationship issues? Psst, I heard that Angelica has the answers. Need a shoulder to cry on? Angelica will listen to everything you have to say.
I'm not part of the nerds or the jocks or the preps or the goths or whatever other group there is. I'm just like a computer terminal. Type in what you need, get what you want, and leave without a second glance. Well, except for the boys, I suppose. I do get more than one glance from them when they think I'm not looking. They can keep looking, I'm not searching for affection. Anyway, I get sick of the group around me. They think that all they have to do is ask politely, and I'll do anything they want! Even my teacher does the same thing.
Whether it's collecting everyone's assignments to bring to the front, or going to the office to nab the planner he left in his office, or even holding a fucking ladder steady while he takes down his signs after school, I end up being the only person he can apparently rely on. Of course, I always smile. Always smile, like mother told me. I wonder if I could've held that smile if I had tipped over the ladder while he was still on it?
Would he have crashed through the glass of the classroom windows and let his blood run down the glass? I could probably take some of the bloodsoaked pieces and sell them online as "stained glass" or something.
Split his head open like an egg on that horrendously clean linoleum? There aren't any cameras or teachers in that part of the school. They probably wouldn't find him until the janitor made his rounds. What a surprise that would be!
My imagination is quite vivid. I get so lost in thought that sometimes I can't even tell that someone's talking to me unless they speak up. So imagine my surprise, in the middle of my fantasies, when it turns out the reason the teacher wanted me to assist him after school was that he could confess to me. That would be like the hook of a teen drama, the part where the girl's heart would be beating out of her chest. It has all the elements.
All it needs is an attractive male lead.
My teacher is not attractive. He's heavyset, old, and slimy as a slug. I've heard rumors about him. How a girl thought he brushed his hand purposely against her ass. How he would sometimes be hanging outside of the girl's restrooms. So disgusting. He's like fucking forty. I'm turning eighteen this year. But of course, I always must remember what mother told me.
Always smile, no matter the situation.
It's unfortunate he's focused onto me. Like I said, being top of the class isn't all that it's cracked up to be. I told him to give me some time to think. I can't really put something like this off, he'll be expecting something by the end of tomorrow.
What should I do?
[] Let him down gently.
[] Report him to the principal's office.
[] Make your fantasies a reality.
[] Write in.
