Mike Is Gay

If you happened to stumble upon the band room today during second lunch, you would have found a carpet of lethargic students lazing about on the floor. Upon first glance, there would seem to be just a mass of flesh and clothing, all clumped together, but if you gave it a second look, you would notice the theater students on the left, the band students on the right. But even these clumps are broken down in to theater technicians and actors, low brass and flutes, saxophones and trumpets. 1

The floor was covered in a mass of people, and you could only navigate your way through with a compass and very tiny feet. Heads were propped on backpacks ans stomachs. Feet were resting on bags and heads. Chaos reigned, and outrage followed. 2

The prices in the lunch room has risen to unreasonable amounts. Why, just last year the special was $2.25, and today it was $3.00. Five piece chicken and fries was $5.00 and iced tea costs $3.25! My lonely flauta with beans and rice, which isn't even that good, was ridiculously overpriced and I owe the lunch lady that rings me up everyday two dollars. 3

Pretty soon they would start charging for milk! Grumbles ensued at my announcement of the price of my shitty food and a bag of generic brand Lucky Charms was passed around as compensation for the lunch room's failure at bringing us edible substances at a decent price.4

After consuming my food with robust and vigor (despite the chalky flavor of the beans and tastelessness of the rice), the floor started to look ever-so welcoming. It beckoned me to lie upon it and rest my weary bones, for, surely, I was tired from all that eating and needed a nap. Plus the band geeks and theater nerds were pulling at my pants legs to get me to stop stepping on them. 5

Kimmy's stomach made a fine pillow, and the floor a comfortable bed, for a time. Negelspach was lying on the floor next to me, with his arms above his head and a good two inches of stomach showing from underneath the hem of his white t-shirt. I was sorely tempted to poke the exposed flesh with my used fork from lunch, but refrained from doing so until I was sure that he would not retaliate in any way shape or form. 6

"Hey Scott!" I shouted in his ear.7

"What!!!!!!"8

"What would you do if I poked you with my plastic fork right now?"9

"Most likely nothing. I'm too tired to move, because i actually worked I'm weight training today."10

We all gasp at this proclamation; Scott work? Never! There's no such thing as legitimacy when it comes to work and Scott!11

"So if I poked you, you wouldn't do anything?" I asked.12

"I might writhe on the floor a bit, maybe beg for mercy, but that's all."13

"Hmm..."14

"Don't you dare, Alex!"15

"But why not? It's not like you would do anything to stop me!"16

"True. But I really don't feel like being tortured and tickled into submission right now."17

He turned over to face the other direction and i took the chance and poked his side with my finger.18

"Alex! Did you have to?"19

"Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I did."20

"I hate you so bad right now!"21

"No you don't, you looooove me!"22

"Hmph."23

He turned away from me, only to have his face stopped by a pair of Emily's marching shoes. Which, quite frankly, are quite disgusting. Muddy, smelly, and sweaty. Yum.24

Disgusted, Scott turned back over, only to find Sam's shoes in his face, once again. 25

"Awwwwwww... Guys!" He cried.26

We all smiled sweetly at him, and went back to raving over the lunch room injustice. Sam poked Scott with her foot and Scott decided that he'd had enough of the poking and said,27

"Okay! Don't make me kill you!"28

"But I didnt do anything!" Sam said. 29

"Better run." I advised her.30

Sam jumped up, quickly followed by Scott and ran around the lockers, shrieking her head off as she tried to escape the wrath of Negelspach. We all laughed at her and I commented to Kimmy,31

"Awwwww... look, they're flirting!"32

"I heard that!" shouted Scott.33

"I wanted you to!" I shouted back.34

They rounded the corner and stopped by the white board and the trash can. Scott had Sam's hands in his own, trying not to let her touch him - poke him, to be precise - and they were struggling with each other. 35

"Hey, Kimmy!" I said, "Do you think the'll start to go out now? I mean, they're so cute together and all!"36

"Stop that, Alex!" Negel shouted. "It's bad enough as it is, with Miss Shane coming this way looking at us funny."37

"Dump her in the trash can!" Kimmy shouted to Scott.38

"Nooooooooooooooo!" Shrieked Sam. 39

Scot picked Sam up, threw her over one shoulder and did a firemans carry to the trash can, where he proceeded to get Sam half way into the damn thing before she revolted and started squirming. 40

"No! Stop! Noooooooooooo! Ahhhhhhhhhhh..." she yelled.41

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Do it! Do it!" the other band members screamed.42

At this point, after about five minutes of Sam and Negel flirting, and the digesting of the nastay lunch that i had been forced to buy, I decided that it was time to pack up to go to sixth period. I looked around for my back pack and discovered that Tim had recruited it for a pillow. I stalked over to him and looked down at him. (this never happens to me, by the way, as I am about six inched shorter than anyone else I know) 43

"Yes? Can I help you?" Tim inquired.44

"You. Are. Using. My. Back. Pack. For. A. Pillow." I seethed.45

"I dont see the problem with this." Tim said, being as contrite and innocent (coughs) as ever.46

"I need it."47

"Why?"48

"I have a class to go to."49

What? What do you mean, you have a class to get to? The days over!"50

"Not for me, it isn't. I have a sixth period class."51

"A what? What the hell's a sixth period class?"52

"Its what us folks who have a full schedule call the last period of the day." 53

"Oh."54

"Can I have my back pack now?"55

"Hmm... let me think a minute. No."56

"Fine then. I'll just take it and laugh when your head hits the cement floor."57

He lifted his head up when I grabbed my back pack, but then refused to move when I needed to get by. As I had mentioned earlier, the band room floor was littered with students. Tim just happened to be one of them. The long walk from the band room to House three was punctuated by screaming children and screaming music. The latter being produced by my head phones, and the former being produced by the imbeciles that I call classmates. 58

I got to Art of Writing class about three minutes early, so I sat on the top of my desk and rocked out to my techno pop crap music until the bell rang. Then I unceremoniously shoved my back pack off the desk, slid backwards into my seat and took out my binder to start the bellwork. 59

There were poetry magnets on the board from the assignment that we had last Wednesday, and people had used them to make larger letters, rather than sentences that made no sense, but sounded cool anyway. It didnt register what the words said, just that they were there. 60

About halfway through my bellwork, I felt a light touch on my arm. It continued and a shivering caress followed. I looked up to see Victoria walking towards the chalkboard, smiling at me. She walked up to the chalk board, wiped something off and walked back to her seat. 61

I gave her a quizzical look and she said, "It said something bad. People were gay bashing."62

Then it hit me. Like a slap in the face. There it was. Staring me down, daring me to do anything. 63

"Mike is gay."64