So. Thomas the violin prodige. The guy who is ruining my chance at ever having sex with Xavier Beckingham and maybe even something more.
I can tell that Xavier's taken an interest in Thomas. Sometimes Xavier sits and stares at Thomas in the middle of class. He'll say really odd things that don't really make sense. And Xavier never makes much sense. But this is a different kind of Xavier shenanigans. This is the kind of Xavier shenanigans where he's plotting something, not just undermining a teacher or a fellow student. This is a serious plot. And this is something about Thomas. Not me. Not my dick. Thomas. And his dick. Not mine.
Plus, sometimes Xavier cuts down Thomas. And Xavier doesn't really give you attention unless he gives a shit about you. Even if that attention is in the form of insults, at least it means he's interested. And when Xavier is interested, he'll do something about it.
But Xavier's not interested in me. He doesn't even glance at me. We only talked once when Mrs. Dole made us work together on an assignment. And Xavier didn't really say anything. That was surely enjoyable.
And maybe I sound like a crazy-in-love school girl to you, journal. But Xavier is an interesting, complex guy. Just thinking about him, brooding about him, figuring him out takes about ninety percent of my day. So it's not totally weird. Just a little. But then again, nothing is ever normal with Xavier. Every thing's always a little weird.
Today I saw Genevieve fraternizing with the enemy. She's in love with his adorableness, which I don't understand. He's not some sweet puppy dog. He is the evilest of evils. He's the lowest of the low, entrancing poor, blind high school girls with his charms and his adorable eyes. He is nothing in my book. I decided it would be the perfect time to display to Thomas that I think very little of him. He already knew, but I thought I might as well let him have it again.
"Did you finally wake up and realize that no girl is going to go for a guy who spends his time practicing fingering a musical instrument?" I scowled as I tossed my jacket nonchalantly on my desk.
"Can you even do that?" I pried. It was a little too much to imagine violin porn but that was the price I had to pay for jeering Thomas.
"What?" Thomas asked naively.
"Finger a girl? Aren't your hands like... your liveliness?" I spat. "Magical phalanges!" I taunted as I waved my hands in front of his face.
"I play the violin, not a surgeon." Thomas returned. He's not fun at all. "I'm not Ben Carson: Gifted Hands."
"I bet you don't even know how to work a... joystick." And I'll have you know Xavier likes other joysticks. His sexual preference is yes.
"What?" Thomas asked.
"Nothing," I told him, giving up. This boy just doesn't get it.
At least I know eventually Xavier will grow tired of Thomas. Fingers crossed.
And this is something about Thomas. Not me. Not my dick. Thomas. And his dick. Not mine.
ReplyDeleteI cannot express to you how much this line made me laugh. I cannot.
I could tell that we had different ideas of Oliver when we wrote our respective entries. It's like, in mine Oliver is like "I don't see your appeal but I'm going to fuck with you because you're obliviously naive." And yours is different. But I like the different perspective. IT works.
Well they're both plausible and they fit. We're genius, working in harmony.
ReplyDeleteThat line made me laugh in my head. I like this entry a lot. I miss writing Oliver. I need to write him more often.