~Hallo! Another story! Enjoy!~
Chapter One- Oversized Qutips
~Theresa's POV~
I hate Gym. I always have, and I always will. Ever since Elementary School, I've hated it. It's always been pointless to me. When we were in Elementary School, we would play tag the whole time (i.e. watch the "popular" boys chase the "popular" girls, yes, we even had popular people back then, and no, I wasn't one of them). I hate tag. I would pretend to be sick or pretend to hurt my leg or something so I wouldn't have to play tag. Thank God I was not one of the teacher's favorite students. He just let me sit in the corner and ignored me. Which was fine for me. I was anti social, even back then. Then in middle school, we played actual sports. Which as good for the jocks, who actually liked playing them. But me? Yeah. I hate all sports. I mean, I don't mind watching them. But put me on a field with a ball, and I will sit down in the middle of the field and refuse to play. Trust me. I've done that many times. My mother has been trying to make me play sports ever since I got into sixth grade. Once, I hid under my grandmother's bed, and they didn't find me for the whole day. So, again, I would use the excuse that I was sick, or that I had hurt my leg, and when my period came around in seventh grade, I said I had cramps. But unfortunately, my gym teacher was a lot smarter than the last one, and she realized I couldn't have cramps the whole month. So I had to participate in gym. Then I met Ben and Janie. Ben is short, skinny computer nerd, who like me, hated sports. Janie is what I'll call "chubby". She wasn't fat exactly, but she wasn't skinny, and she definitely was not in shape. They became my best friends, and my only friends. I had never had any real friends in elementary school, and neither had the ey. So we were all craving friendship, and we found it in each other. But then, high school came. No, we haven't grown apart or anything, we're still as close as ever, but I found out in the beginning of this year that Ben, Janie, and I don't have gym together. Definitely a bad thing. Now I don't have allies in gym class. I have to fend for myself. So I'm standing here, "listening" to Ms. Jenson (big beefy ex Army Recruit with a buzz cut and a huge big whistle that she goes crazy with too often) who is holding a weird pole type thing with a foam tip (looks like an oversized qutip to me).
"To play this game" she barks, "You are on two teams. Seven people play at a time, the other team members stand at the walls, and they cannot move from the walls, but if the ball comes to them then they can kick it. You are trying to make a goal. You can kick the ball, but to make a goal the ball must go in by being hit by the poles. Does everyone get it?" Even though many people shook their heads, she said, "Good! Now! I'll count you off. One, Two, One, Two," she says, pointing at each one of us. I am dubbed a two. Wonderful. I am on the super jock team. Plus, some of their cheerleader groupies have joined us. And a couple of Goths. I don't know any of these people! The cheerleaders are examining their qutips and saying, "I hope I don't break a nail!". Mental note to self: Must complain about cheerleaders to Ben and Janie. So the four jocks automatically get to go on the "field" first. Then the cheerleaders made excuses not to play first, so I go out and play.
One of the Jocks, a tall, well built blond guy looks over at me, grunts, and points at the goal. Oh, I get it. He wants me to be goalie. Wonderful. Does he have any common sense at all? I look over at him again, where he is highfiving everybody else. No, I guess not. I grudgingly head over to the goal and stand with my legs spread apart. Can't they see that I'm too small to be goalie? I guess they're too stupid. But then one of the Goths sees me and comes over to me.
"Do you wanna switch?" Before he spoke, I thought that maybe he'd have a lisp or something because of his tongue ring and the ring on his bottom lip, but I guess not. I look up at him, and see that he's looking at me in a. nice way? He's not glaring at me, which is weird 'cause they usually glare at everyone. I nod gratefully and move away from the goal. I smile at him and he gives me a half smile.
"Were you defense or offense?" I asked, tugging down on my baggy black shorts with the flames on the bottom.
"Offense. That might be a good position for you because you're so small and everything," He says, and I wince. I hate it when people talk about my size.
"Yeah, thanks." I say, giving him a weak smile, then going to where the jocks are. We start playing and I don't do anything. I'm standing in the field when, WHAM! A huge jock from the opposing team rams into me, the pole part of the cutip ramming into my stomach. I fall over, clutching my stomach, the wind knocked out of me.
"Woah, I'm sorry, I didn't see you! Are you ok?" The guy asks, leaning over me, peering into my eyes. His eyes are big and blue and welcoming. I nod weakly and sit up. Ms. Jenson rushes over to me.
"I think you just got the wind knocked of you. Do you think you can make it to the nurse by yourself?" She asks, and I shrug.
"I'll go with her," the Jock says. Stunning. A Jock who will actually miss gym? Wow. Call the press!
"No, that's OK," I say, attempting to get up. He reaches out his hand but I ignore it and finally get up by myself.
"No, I insist. I feel really bad about knocking you over." he says. I shrug to show I don't really care, and start walking out of the gym. He catches up with me and we walk out together.
"So. what's your name?" He asks me, looking down at me. I have to crane my neck to see him, as he is easily a foot and a half taller than me.
"Theresa," I say.
"Can I call you Tree?" He asks. I panic. Only Ben and Janie call me that. That's their special name for me, and I don't really want other people to use it.
"Nobody calls me that," I lie. Then, as luck would have it, Janie happened to be walking towards us.
"Hey Tree, what's up?" She asks, looking at me and the Jock, who is looking at me strangely.
"Nothing much, I just got the wind knocked out of me, courtesy of this guy right here."
"Does this guy right here have a name?" She jokes and I smile weakly. Do I care? Not one bit.
"Ryan," He says, "I'm escorting Tree here to the nurse." I bite down on my lip as he empathizes my nickname. It's not my fault we aren't close friends! Janie winks at me. And not subtly either. Oh no. Far from subtle. I feel my cheeks flushing. Note to Self: Kill Janie.
"Well, I have to meet with Mr. Thomas. See you Tree, I'll talk to you at lunch. Nice meeting you Ryan," She says, grinning broadly. Then she bounces off.
"Nobody calls you that, eh?" He asks.
"Are you Canadian?" I ask, avoiding the original question.
"What?" He says, looking confused. Then he understands. "Oh. No, I'm not. I just say eh a lot. What, do you have something against Canadians?"
"No! I was just wondering," I say, worried. Uh oh, I hope I didn't insult him or something. Then a cheeky smile spreads over his face, and I roll my eyes.
"Hah, I got you! Anyway, I'm sorry I knocked you over. Usually when I'm playing sports, I get carried away."
"Even in the oversized qutip game?" I ask, smiling slightly as he opens the door to the nurses office for me.
He laughs. "Even in the oversized qutip game. Seriously, I thought I was the only one who noticed the resemblance."
"Nope, not the only one," I say, smiling. Then the nurse swoops on me, gives me an ice pack and a Tylenol (even though I say I didn't have a headache or anything). Then she gives us passes and sends us on our way. I am afraid we wouldn't have anything to talk about on the way back to the gym, but surprisingly, Ryan is interested in me! No boy has been interested in me before. Well, if you don't count Ben, who is basically like my brother, and Raymond, the creepy kid from my church who my mother has been trying to set me up with since second grade.
"So, What part of Baltimore do you live in?" I look at him incredously. Is he stupid?
"Ok, so that might be a stupid question, but I was just wondering what neighborhood. I phrased it wrong I think, I mean, I know you live in Towson."
"I live in Roland Park. You?"
"Same. Maybe I live near you. Then we could walk over to school together sometimes," he said quickly, almost nervously. Was this guy serious? He wanted to walk with me, Theresa Margolis, weirdo of the century?
"Yeah, maybe." I said, letting my sentence trail off.
"You have any brothers or sisters?" He asks, obviously embarrassed.
"Yeah. I have two brothers and two sisters." I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Woah. Five kids? Do you live in a row house?" He asks, his eyes widening.
I nod. "It gets crazy. I have to share my room with Rosa, who's in sixth grade. Marco and Paulo share a room, and Maria, who was born a couple of months ago, sleeps in my parent's room. She'll share a room with Rosa when I go to college."
"Wow. I'm jealous. I've always wanted brothers and sisters," He says, and I laugh.
"Just try living with them for a month. They'll drive you crazy." He opens the gym door for me, and we walk in. He is instantly put back in the game, while I am allowed to sit down, the ice pack on my stomach. I lift up my gray t-shirt. Yup, just as I suspected. I have a huge bruise on my stomach. After gym class is over, I get changed quickly, and sling my backpack over my shoulder. I leave the locker room, and Ryan is waiting outside the door. I assume that he's waiting for one of the cheerleaders and start to walk past him, when he grabs my arm.
"Wait, Theresa. What class do you have next?"
"Um, I think I have Math." I say, checking my hand. Ok, I'm a dork. I write my schedule on my hand. It's not my fault that I don't want to be late to class.
"Cool. I have Physics. I'll walk you to Math."
"Um, ok."
"So, I bet a girl like you has a boyfriend, right?"
"No, no I don't." I say, looking down at the annoyingly dull brown floor.
"Seriously? I see you hanging out with that smart kid all the time, I just thought." He said, trailing off. Was I hallucinating or did he look happy to know Ben and I weren't going out?
"Ben? Oh, no way. We're definitely not dating. He's more like my brother." I say, shaking my head at the image. I've never liked Ben like that, and Ben has never liked me like that either. Actually, I've noticed the looks he's been giving Janie. And I'm pretty sure Janie likes him like that too.
"Here's your class. I'll see you later?"
"Who knows?" I reply, shrugging, and then I head into Math class. I sink into the seat next to Ben. "Benny! Look at my stomach!" I say, lifting up my t-shirt to reveal my bruise.
"Tree! Indecent exposure!" He cries, covering his eyes with his hands. "Oh, my virgin eyes!"
Rolling my eyes at him, I say, "Like you've never seen a stomach before Benny!" I let my shirt fall over my stomach again.
"What happened to you anyway? And don't call me that!" Ben hates being called Benny. But Janie and I have been calling him that ever since we've met him, so the name stuck.
"I got hit with a oversized qutip."
"Ah, that explains everything. And when did this happen?"
"Gym. And it hurt!" I say, pouting.
"Aw, poor Tree." He says, patting me on the head. Mr. Walker enters the class room at this time, and as he is Ben's role model (although he won't admit it), I couldn't continue our conversation. I sigh, and sunk into my seat. Another boring Math class. Happy joy joy.
~The end! At least the end of this chapter. Look for the next chapter soon! And let me know whether it's cutips or qutips. Thanks!~
Chapter One- Oversized Qutips
~Theresa's POV~
I hate Gym. I always have, and I always will. Ever since Elementary School, I've hated it. It's always been pointless to me. When we were in Elementary School, we would play tag the whole time (i.e. watch the "popular" boys chase the "popular" girls, yes, we even had popular people back then, and no, I wasn't one of them). I hate tag. I would pretend to be sick or pretend to hurt my leg or something so I wouldn't have to play tag. Thank God I was not one of the teacher's favorite students. He just let me sit in the corner and ignored me. Which was fine for me. I was anti social, even back then. Then in middle school, we played actual sports. Which as good for the jocks, who actually liked playing them. But me? Yeah. I hate all sports. I mean, I don't mind watching them. But put me on a field with a ball, and I will sit down in the middle of the field and refuse to play. Trust me. I've done that many times. My mother has been trying to make me play sports ever since I got into sixth grade. Once, I hid under my grandmother's bed, and they didn't find me for the whole day. So, again, I would use the excuse that I was sick, or that I had hurt my leg, and when my period came around in seventh grade, I said I had cramps. But unfortunately, my gym teacher was a lot smarter than the last one, and she realized I couldn't have cramps the whole month. So I had to participate in gym. Then I met Ben and Janie. Ben is short, skinny computer nerd, who like me, hated sports. Janie is what I'll call "chubby". She wasn't fat exactly, but she wasn't skinny, and she definitely was not in shape. They became my best friends, and my only friends. I had never had any real friends in elementary school, and neither had the ey. So we were all craving friendship, and we found it in each other. But then, high school came. No, we haven't grown apart or anything, we're still as close as ever, but I found out in the beginning of this year that Ben, Janie, and I don't have gym together. Definitely a bad thing. Now I don't have allies in gym class. I have to fend for myself. So I'm standing here, "listening" to Ms. Jenson (big beefy ex Army Recruit with a buzz cut and a huge big whistle that she goes crazy with too often) who is holding a weird pole type thing with a foam tip (looks like an oversized qutip to me).
"To play this game" she barks, "You are on two teams. Seven people play at a time, the other team members stand at the walls, and they cannot move from the walls, but if the ball comes to them then they can kick it. You are trying to make a goal. You can kick the ball, but to make a goal the ball must go in by being hit by the poles. Does everyone get it?" Even though many people shook their heads, she said, "Good! Now! I'll count you off. One, Two, One, Two," she says, pointing at each one of us. I am dubbed a two. Wonderful. I am on the super jock team. Plus, some of their cheerleader groupies have joined us. And a couple of Goths. I don't know any of these people! The cheerleaders are examining their qutips and saying, "I hope I don't break a nail!". Mental note to self: Must complain about cheerleaders to Ben and Janie. So the four jocks automatically get to go on the "field" first. Then the cheerleaders made excuses not to play first, so I go out and play.
One of the Jocks, a tall, well built blond guy looks over at me, grunts, and points at the goal. Oh, I get it. He wants me to be goalie. Wonderful. Does he have any common sense at all? I look over at him again, where he is highfiving everybody else. No, I guess not. I grudgingly head over to the goal and stand with my legs spread apart. Can't they see that I'm too small to be goalie? I guess they're too stupid. But then one of the Goths sees me and comes over to me.
"Do you wanna switch?" Before he spoke, I thought that maybe he'd have a lisp or something because of his tongue ring and the ring on his bottom lip, but I guess not. I look up at him, and see that he's looking at me in a. nice way? He's not glaring at me, which is weird 'cause they usually glare at everyone. I nod gratefully and move away from the goal. I smile at him and he gives me a half smile.
"Were you defense or offense?" I asked, tugging down on my baggy black shorts with the flames on the bottom.
"Offense. That might be a good position for you because you're so small and everything," He says, and I wince. I hate it when people talk about my size.
"Yeah, thanks." I say, giving him a weak smile, then going to where the jocks are. We start playing and I don't do anything. I'm standing in the field when, WHAM! A huge jock from the opposing team rams into me, the pole part of the cutip ramming into my stomach. I fall over, clutching my stomach, the wind knocked out of me.
"Woah, I'm sorry, I didn't see you! Are you ok?" The guy asks, leaning over me, peering into my eyes. His eyes are big and blue and welcoming. I nod weakly and sit up. Ms. Jenson rushes over to me.
"I think you just got the wind knocked of you. Do you think you can make it to the nurse by yourself?" She asks, and I shrug.
"I'll go with her," the Jock says. Stunning. A Jock who will actually miss gym? Wow. Call the press!
"No, that's OK," I say, attempting to get up. He reaches out his hand but I ignore it and finally get up by myself.
"No, I insist. I feel really bad about knocking you over." he says. I shrug to show I don't really care, and start walking out of the gym. He catches up with me and we walk out together.
"So. what's your name?" He asks me, looking down at me. I have to crane my neck to see him, as he is easily a foot and a half taller than me.
"Theresa," I say.
"Can I call you Tree?" He asks. I panic. Only Ben and Janie call me that. That's their special name for me, and I don't really want other people to use it.
"Nobody calls me that," I lie. Then, as luck would have it, Janie happened to be walking towards us.
"Hey Tree, what's up?" She asks, looking at me and the Jock, who is looking at me strangely.
"Nothing much, I just got the wind knocked out of me, courtesy of this guy right here."
"Does this guy right here have a name?" She jokes and I smile weakly. Do I care? Not one bit.
"Ryan," He says, "I'm escorting Tree here to the nurse." I bite down on my lip as he empathizes my nickname. It's not my fault we aren't close friends! Janie winks at me. And not subtly either. Oh no. Far from subtle. I feel my cheeks flushing. Note to Self: Kill Janie.
"Well, I have to meet with Mr. Thomas. See you Tree, I'll talk to you at lunch. Nice meeting you Ryan," She says, grinning broadly. Then she bounces off.
"Nobody calls you that, eh?" He asks.
"Are you Canadian?" I ask, avoiding the original question.
"What?" He says, looking confused. Then he understands. "Oh. No, I'm not. I just say eh a lot. What, do you have something against Canadians?"
"No! I was just wondering," I say, worried. Uh oh, I hope I didn't insult him or something. Then a cheeky smile spreads over his face, and I roll my eyes.
"Hah, I got you! Anyway, I'm sorry I knocked you over. Usually when I'm playing sports, I get carried away."
"Even in the oversized qutip game?" I ask, smiling slightly as he opens the door to the nurses office for me.
He laughs. "Even in the oversized qutip game. Seriously, I thought I was the only one who noticed the resemblance."
"Nope, not the only one," I say, smiling. Then the nurse swoops on me, gives me an ice pack and a Tylenol (even though I say I didn't have a headache or anything). Then she gives us passes and sends us on our way. I am afraid we wouldn't have anything to talk about on the way back to the gym, but surprisingly, Ryan is interested in me! No boy has been interested in me before. Well, if you don't count Ben, who is basically like my brother, and Raymond, the creepy kid from my church who my mother has been trying to set me up with since second grade.
"So, What part of Baltimore do you live in?" I look at him incredously. Is he stupid?
"Ok, so that might be a stupid question, but I was just wondering what neighborhood. I phrased it wrong I think, I mean, I know you live in Towson."
"I live in Roland Park. You?"
"Same. Maybe I live near you. Then we could walk over to school together sometimes," he said quickly, almost nervously. Was this guy serious? He wanted to walk with me, Theresa Margolis, weirdo of the century?
"Yeah, maybe." I said, letting my sentence trail off.
"You have any brothers or sisters?" He asks, obviously embarrassed.
"Yeah. I have two brothers and two sisters." I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Woah. Five kids? Do you live in a row house?" He asks, his eyes widening.
I nod. "It gets crazy. I have to share my room with Rosa, who's in sixth grade. Marco and Paulo share a room, and Maria, who was born a couple of months ago, sleeps in my parent's room. She'll share a room with Rosa when I go to college."
"Wow. I'm jealous. I've always wanted brothers and sisters," He says, and I laugh.
"Just try living with them for a month. They'll drive you crazy." He opens the gym door for me, and we walk in. He is instantly put back in the game, while I am allowed to sit down, the ice pack on my stomach. I lift up my gray t-shirt. Yup, just as I suspected. I have a huge bruise on my stomach. After gym class is over, I get changed quickly, and sling my backpack over my shoulder. I leave the locker room, and Ryan is waiting outside the door. I assume that he's waiting for one of the cheerleaders and start to walk past him, when he grabs my arm.
"Wait, Theresa. What class do you have next?"
"Um, I think I have Math." I say, checking my hand. Ok, I'm a dork. I write my schedule on my hand. It's not my fault that I don't want to be late to class.
"Cool. I have Physics. I'll walk you to Math."
"Um, ok."
"So, I bet a girl like you has a boyfriend, right?"
"No, no I don't." I say, looking down at the annoyingly dull brown floor.
"Seriously? I see you hanging out with that smart kid all the time, I just thought." He said, trailing off. Was I hallucinating or did he look happy to know Ben and I weren't going out?
"Ben? Oh, no way. We're definitely not dating. He's more like my brother." I say, shaking my head at the image. I've never liked Ben like that, and Ben has never liked me like that either. Actually, I've noticed the looks he's been giving Janie. And I'm pretty sure Janie likes him like that too.
"Here's your class. I'll see you later?"
"Who knows?" I reply, shrugging, and then I head into Math class. I sink into the seat next to Ben. "Benny! Look at my stomach!" I say, lifting up my t-shirt to reveal my bruise.
"Tree! Indecent exposure!" He cries, covering his eyes with his hands. "Oh, my virgin eyes!"
Rolling my eyes at him, I say, "Like you've never seen a stomach before Benny!" I let my shirt fall over my stomach again.
"What happened to you anyway? And don't call me that!" Ben hates being called Benny. But Janie and I have been calling him that ever since we've met him, so the name stuck.
"I got hit with a oversized qutip."
"Ah, that explains everything. And when did this happen?"
"Gym. And it hurt!" I say, pouting.
"Aw, poor Tree." He says, patting me on the head. Mr. Walker enters the class room at this time, and as he is Ben's role model (although he won't admit it), I couldn't continue our conversation. I sigh, and sunk into my seat. Another boring Math class. Happy joy joy.
~The end! At least the end of this chapter. Look for the next chapter soon! And let me know whether it's cutips or qutips. Thanks!~