Dave clenched his fists and grinned. He must attack the day's prime struggle. Not Algebra II (although Dave does find that class mighty difficult), not convincing Nick L to walk "that way" after school (quite the task), not firing Sarah B from his "punk ska guido indie post-trash jazz" band Stars of David (truly the undertaking; she's not just gonna be like "whatever, bro.") Time's apple was ripe -- he'd regain intimacy with his former lover.
The dedicated smiler entered school conscious of each step he took. He latched onto time and jumped to 11:38 AM -- Web Design. Jen sat; she glanced at Dave's perverse look and felt smaller. Dave approached her, then spoke: "Jen, we need to talk! Sorry if I'm intimidating."
The bell said, "Fuck you," to Jen's upcoming response. Jen countered the insult with a devilish smirk -- though it was equally directed to Dave.
Forty-two minutes later, the bell apologized. Dave took his time closing web pages, Flash crap, whatever -- Jen remained motionless at her chair, waiting for the antagonist to flee the scene. He didn't; they met up in the hallway.
"Jen! We should chill soon."
"Dave, you friggin' scared me this period. What the hell was that grin about?"
"I've been thinking about this talk for the past day. I tried to find you yesterday after school, but to no avail. So what's been up?"
"Nothing."
"Well let's go to a concert."
"Who you wanna see?"
"Delorean's doing a set at Bowery."
"Where? Who? I don't know. I'll ask Scott maybe. Let's go with Amy and Alaina too."
"You don't wanna go alone?"
"Dave, I thought we cleared this up."
"No, I'm not trying to ask you out Jen. It's just, I don't know -- it's almost like we're not even close anymore. I miss you."
They arrived at the science wing. Jen told Dave that they'd talk about it later, surely, and that she definitely wanted to hang out with him, soon. They split for the day.
He walked down Vreeland and Jill C inserted a knife in his throat, rendering his sly nature "unnecessary -- don't talk to my girl like that." He didn't know what to do so he checked his throat -- there was blood but it didn't hurt, love but it wasn't obvious! He continued walking and ran into Chris L, who threw a worn-out longboard into Dave's pathway. Dave tried to move out of the way but fell right onto it -- he skated alongside his good pal. Faces zoomed past him. Christian P. Ryan A. Julian G. Anthony M. John Proctor. Roger Chillingworth. Casey Donovan. Where the fuck was Jen? Jen appeared at once. "Dave, Delorean are a terrible band! Dave, wake up goddamn it!"
He complied, then gasped, "Huh? Diary, where are you‽" Check your bedside table, bro!
And on the absurd night, he penned:
Hell to the oh! Well -- I'm a little happy that . . . whatever that was . . . it was pretty detailed! But I didn't even talk to Jen rudely! Okay -- I was crafty and dedicated! I had to talk to her. That's been obvious for days. I hardly know Jill. Ugh. I think I need to do symbolism right now. Chris L is a past relationship. He threw his old skateboard at me, and I took it! I saw a lot of new people though. People who I've become close to in junior year. Casey Donovan, though? Hmmm. So, basically, God wants me to embrace the past and present. And not try to force anything. But why did Jill slice me? Have I been that bad lately? Talk to you later, die-a-ray.
After the journal entry, he went back to bed, thought about love for a few minutes, and crashed.
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