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|Parker (standard:non fiction, 1681 words)|
|Author: SciFi Fan||Added: May 12 2006||Views/Reads: 1775/1198||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Canadian Accent, Open Fly, and Animal Crackers|
The time is 12:07 in the afternoon, and I'm slouched in my seat in public speaking class, practically drooling with boredom. It's mock trial time. I think I'm supposed to be a witness, not sure though. Too bored. I turn to my friend Tyler, who has his head down on the desk next to mine. His eyes are closed. His breathing's steady. Yep, he's sleeping. I glance half-heartedly across the room, in search of something interesting to look at. There's Parker. Wow. He's not sleeping. His blonde hair has that fluffy, Einstein look to it. He's sitting awkwardly on the edge of his chair, his back perfectly straight. His head is in his hands, and he's gazing around the room like an owl on the prowl. Parker. He was teased and made fun of at his previous lunch table. I remember when he came up to me on the second day of public speaking class and asked if he could sit at my lunch table to escape the trauma. He seemed harmless enough. I was only human. I told him yes. After all, there was room for him at my table, and I felt bad for him. That was the start. Show Parker a little attention, and he sticks to you like glue. I suppose it was because no girl had ever actually spoken to him without telling him to back off, bucko. I quickly found that he was also in my Spanish class during the block after public speaking. I was going to be with Parker for lunch, Spanish, and public speaking. That was more than half the day. Great. It started out okay. At lunch, my friends and I were faced with a few odd comments from Parker. One day I happened to bring a muffin to lunch. He blurted out something along the lines of “A muffin!” It wasn't anything particularly annoying or bad. It was just a little odd how he said it, a little loud. People two tables away from us were turning their heads to look at my muffin. That “Parker moment” wasn't so terrible. I've just never seen someone scream the word muffin before. Public speaking wasn't so bad at first either. A few times I'd be chatting with Tyler and turn around to find Parker's face two inches from mine. Again, not so terrible, just a little weird. More than once I was tempted to offer him a TicTac to get my point across. Sometimes when I talked to Tyler, Parker would sudden blurt out “Yeah!” from across the room in response to whatever I was saying. I never said anything to him about moments like that, just turned and looked at him for a second with a freaked out look on my face. I hoped he'd get the message. I didn't appreciate someone listening in on what I thought were private conversations, but I was doing my best not to be mean to a person who clearly lacked social skills. For a while Parker picked up a Canadian accent. Every time I'd have to work with him in Spanish, he'd say, “Let's get started, eh?” After lunch: “We should take up the trash, eh?” During public speaking: “I sounded good up there, eh?” This stage really got to me, for whatever reason. Luckily, he dropped the Canadian accent when he started speaking French instead. Parker got worse once we made our first speeches in that class. They were informative speeches, and Parker had selected the topic of Pearl Harbor. His speech was, well, in one word, passionate. He practically screamed the events of Pearl Harbor to the somewhat scared class. Awkwardness at Parker's speech quickly turned laughter, though, when one girl observed that Parker's fly was flapping in the wind. The news spread infectiously around the room. Soon the whole class was about to burst with laughter. Poor Parker. He did his whole first speech with his fly open. He found out the reason for everyone's smirking faces not long after his speech was over. He was scarred for life. Ever since, he's checked on his fly at least six times in one block, a not very attractive habit. After that, he clung to anyone who showed him the least bit of kindness. He started following me around at the beginning of track practice. One day he grabbed me as I was headed into the trainer's room and asked if he could talk with me privately. I complied, awkwardly, and he quietly told me about his secret crush. It was a girl named Amber. She was a very nice girl, but one who had a deep-seated hatred toward Parker. Apparently, she had been forced to sit next to him for an entire semester during her freshman year and had lost all patience with him. Click here to read the rest of this story (76 more lines)
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