Here I stand, at my high school graduation. As the inaudible drabble of the current speaker, bounces through my ear canal I nonchalantly peer around. Let me introduce myself. I'm Vincent Jabbe. You can't call my life normal, exactly. Then again, I'd like you to find one person whose life you can call normal. But me... well I like to think of myself as even less normal than the general public.

This is Sonry Halls, the place I've gone to school for the last four years. I won't bore you or anybody else with any details about high school. You can go watch The Breakfast Club or Grease if you want a story about high school. Besides, you don't want to hear about the last four years of my life anyway. They have been anything but exciting. I've never had a girlfriend and I don't get detention. I don't go out for parties. I don't have very many friends and there really isn't any significant drama surrounding myself.

I'm not a loser though, I swear. I have friends. I would take these three over any amount of friends. I've grown up with them and not only in school. I've lived with them for the past fourteen years. You see, I'm an orphan. My mother and father both passed away within a week of each other because of unrelated accidents. She died in a car accident. My father died in a house fire.

This ceremony is so boring. I look around again. The place is arranged alphabetically so I can't see my best friend Jimmy Tegan. I can't see my American Indian friend, Windbreeze Smith either. However, I can see Janet Kagney. She’s as beautiful as ever, even in her nasty white robe. My yellow one makes me look like some kind of pansy. Unfortunately, I can’t see any of her beautifully sculpted curves through that damned robe. “Vincent Jabbe.” She’s got such a perfect face. Well, I think so. Luckily, not too many men crawl all over her. They’re busy with the sluts of Sonry Halls. Maybe her emotional baggage is unappealing. They’re such jackasses. “Vincent Jabbe.” I think it makes her that much more interesting if that makes sense.

Suddenly, an elbow comes from my left side and jabs me in my ribs. I groan quietly and anrgily. “What the fuck, dude?” I growl at Anthony Jackson.

“VINCENT JABBE,” the principal repeats for the third time through the microphone.

“Oh shit!” I gasp. I quickly hurry down the aisle as I listen to the few isolated laughs around me. Is it shake with right, grab with left? I wonder if Jan is thinking about me as I walk up here. Maybe it’s shake with left grab with right. Finally I approach the presenter. I stick out my right hand to grab the diploma. I immediately realize my mistake as the presenter tries to readjust himself, as do I. It’s like when two people are walking towards each other, and neither knows which way the other is going to go so they do something like a dance with each other. Chuckles arise from the audience and the graduates. I wipe the sweat off of my forehead and take my place back on stage.

“Vincent,” a whisper comes from my left. To my contentment, it’s Janet. She smiles at me and giggles. It’s not insulting, but rather flirtatious. After a few minutes of spacing out, a name catches my attention.

“Janet Kagney.” I watch her as she moves from her spot, those long legs under her robe working to move her body along. Even through the offending garments, I can see her round butt. Let’s get this straight. I’m not a creep. Janet and I have a history together, but we never dated. Our orphan home is very strict. You might think I’m just making excuses. I’m not. I have genuine feelings for her that aren’t completely physical. Okay?

As the ceremony continues, I think about the party that Windbreeze is throwing afterwards. Maybe I’ll try something there. Just maybe...