CHAD4lyfe: i heard about that
lilbeachbabe777: o yeah?
CHAD4lyfe: yea
CHAD4lyfe: actully
CHAD4lyfe: *actually
CHAD4lyfe: the way he asked her
CHAD4lyfe: was my idea
lilbeachbabe777: really
lilbeachbabe777: ???
CHAD4lyfe: yea
CHAD4lyfe: we were talkin bout it yesterday and i came up wit it
lilbeachbabe777: well arent u the little romantic ;)
CHAD4lyfe: yea
lilbeachbabe777: but wait
lilbeachbabe777: whats gonna happen now
CHAD4lyfe: ?
lilbeachbabe777: now that like
lilbeachbabe777: u used up ur best idea on how to ask someone to the dance
CHAD4lyfe: well i wouldnt go that far lol
lilbeachbabe777: haha well like
lilbeachbabe777: have u asked someone…?
lilbeachbabe777: i mean like, u know
lilbeachbabe777: ur chad beck
lilbeachbabe777: everyone wants to go wit u haha
CHAD4lyfe: even the dudes?
CHAD4lyfe: jk lol
lilbeachbabe777: lol
CHAD4lyfe: haha gay lol
lilbeachbabe777: but like u know what i mean?
CHAD4lyfe: yea i no
CHAD4lyfe: hey check out this poem i wrote
lilbeachbabe777: ok
CHAD4lyfe: its called “her”
lilbeachbabe777: im excited
CHAD4lyfe: i want to hold those hips
CHAD4lyfe: i want to kiss those lips
CHAD4lyfe: and feel her fingertips
CHAD4lyfe: yea that would be heaven
CHAD4lyfe: she puts me in a trance
CHAD4lyfe: so let me take a chance
CHAD4lyfe: and say will you go to the dance
CHAD4lyfe: with me, lilbeachbabe777
lilbeachbabe777: omg!!!!!!!1!!
lilbeachbabe777: yes of course i will
lilbeachbabe777: OMG im so excited
lilbeachbabe777: that was a beautiful poem chad
CHAD4lyfe: thx
lilbeachbabe777: :)
CHAD4lyfe: yea well
CHAD4lyfe: the dance and stuff
CHAD4lyfe: should be tyte
lilbeachbabe777: :)
lilbeachbabe777: what do u think ur gonna go as?
lilbeachbabe777: like for ur costume?
CHAD4lyfe: i dunno
CHAD4lyfe: hey i have to go
CHAD4lyfe: mom said i have to get off lol
lilbeachbabe777: lol yeahhh moms are like that
lilbeachbabe777: just minimize the chat box!
CHAD4lyfe: no like i have to go now
lilbeachbabe777: ok so well talk plans at school?
CHAD4lyfe: yea yea
lilbeachbabe777: ok sounds awesome!
CHAD4lyfe: yea
CHAD4lyfe: l8r hannah
lilbeachbabe777: good night, chad
lilbeachbabe777: <3
CHAD4lyfe has signed off at 10:32 p.m.
lilbeachbabe777 has signed off at 10:32 p.m.
7 • Danny Uribe
Thursday, October 15
My best memory of elementary school was the first day of fifth grade. That was the day Jake’s mom told me and him we were allowed to walk to school all by ourselves.
All through fourth grade, Jake would complain to his mom about her rule that a parent had to take us to school and back. Her rule made no sense. The Schwartz house isn’t even a mile from Arlington. It’s like a ten-minute walk. Mrs. Schwartz said, It’s safer if I drive you. Jake said, Mom, you should trust us. Jake’s mom said, I do trust you guys, it’s the strangers I don’t trust. Jake got all upset whenever this happened.
My parents have always been cool with me doing stuff by myself, but I never wanted to walk to school without Jake. That’s what made the first day of fifth grade so sick. Jake’s mom came into the kitchen while we were eating breakfast, and she smiled and told us she had some big news. She said that it was time. We knew what that meant. We were hyyyped. We celebrated so hard.
In fifth grade that was like our little way of growing up. We went from riding with Jake’s mommy to taking ourselves to school.
Now that we go to San Paulo, it’s way too far to walk, so this year I’ve gone back to driving with Jake’s mom. I don’t like it too much.
Every time Mrs. Schwartz drives me, Jake, and Hannah home after school, she asks us all to share the most interesting parts of our day. Both of the Schwartz kids get really into it. I think it’s like the highlight of Hannah’s day. She talks about who’s getting fat, who’s dating “an ugly,” all that gossip stuff. That girl loves the sound of her own voice.
Jake always shares something lame like, “Oh, today in science we got to dissect a sheep heart!” or “It was awesome! My Latin teacher let us do class outside!” Seriously, no one should ever get that excited about class. It seems like Jake’s trying extra hard to act all happy, like he’s trying to convince himself his life is dope. I feel bad for the guy. I wish he liked seventh grade better.
Whenever Mrs. Schwartz asks me about my day, I say nothing happened, even though that’s never the truth.
I think she would have a heart attack if I ever told her about all the “interesting” stuff I really do see at SP. Like last week, when they found two bags of weed in Luis de la Garza’s locker and he got expelled, and they sent him to juvie because it wasn’t his first time. Or yesterday, when Juan Salcido and Chuy Hernandez got in this big fight during lunch because their brothers are in different gangs. Juan reps the Destroyers because of his brother, and Chuy reps the Raiders because of his brother, so of course both of them wanted to prove that theirs was the best. I’m glad they only got suspended, though. It was just a few punches thrown, nothing serious.
This is the kind of stuff that’s going through my head on the car ride home. Some big-time stuff. But it doesn’t belong in Mrs. Schwartz’s car. When I’m in there, I have to sit and listen to the most boring stories. Hannah freaks out because she can’t think of the right costume to wear to the Halloween Dance. A witch would be too boring, but a pirate would be too slutty, but a Disney princess would be too cutesy. Unless it was Jasmine, which would be too slutty. And oh man, all this stuff. She’s gonna look good anyway, so who cares? Jake goes on and on about his classes, and lots of times he complains about his teachers and all the time he’s trying to compare stuff to how it was at Arlington, and it’s like, dude, we left that place behind. And finally there’s Mrs. Schwartz, who just won’t shut up about brunch with the moms, or tennis with the moms, or which movie star’s house she just decorated, and why isn’t Mr. Schwartz home more often, and after a while I really do not care. It’s just not my scene.
That’s why today, I realized it’s time for me to grow up. I need to get the hell out of Mrs. Schwartz’s car, just like I did in fifth grade.
So today I started taking the bus home.
It’s so tight. Now instead of heading straight back to the Schwartz mansion every day, I can go and chill over on the Eastside whenever I want. I’m mad tired of Javy and Carlos giving me a hard time for getting picked up in that big white Lexus SUV after school. Now I can roll with them instead. Then I can go back to Jake’s house when I actually want to.
It’s not like I don’t like Jake’s house anymore. It’s not that. I’d just rather have the choice of where I wanna go. Sometimes I feel like hanging with my people, that’s all.
Mrs. Schwartz didn’t seem happy about my decision, but she said it was up to my parents. My parents are cool with it as long as I get home in one piece. Hannah doesn’t know and probably doesn’t care. Jake said I’ll “regret” my choice because I’m gonna “need” him after school to help me with my homework. That kinda pissed me off. So I won’t be able to do five cinchy-ass math problems by myself? And that’s assuming I’ll even want to do my homework. Whatever, man. I don’t need his help just because he
’s in Honors. That whole program is bull anyway. Everyone knows the only reason they even have different classes for Honors and regular is so the Seabrook parents will feel okay putting their kids at SP in the first place. I know Jake’s parents almost didn’t even send him and Hannah here at all—they wanted them to go to some private school, like Costa Blanca or something. My mom heard them talking one time.
Today was my first day riding on my own. It was cool. I felt all old. Like, Jake has to wait until his bamitzvah in June to be an adult, but I’m basically one already because I’m riding with my homies in a city bus to the Eastside instead of in Mommy’s luxury car to Seabrook. Thug liiife.
I’m kidding, okay? But yeah. Today was pretty tight. I rode over to Javy and Carlos’s with them and the normal group of homies—except for Junior who was off chilling with some older guys. Actually Junior was with the same cholos who roughed us up on the basketball courts that one time. I used to think those guys were in high school since they’re so big, but it turns out they’re in eighth grade at SP. Probably some of them have gotten held back a couple times. They’re the guys like Luis de la Garza, the kind of fools who get in real trouble, not just small stuff like stealing candy.
Some of them are in gangs. Maybe even most of them. There’s this one guy, Guillermo Torres. He’s the same guy who pushed me hard to the ground on the courts, the fool with one eyebrow. He’s a real veterano in the Eastside Raiders. From what I heard, he’s one of their main shot-callers even though he’s still in junior high, and man, they’re the biggest gang in SP. Guillermo’s the one in charge of recruiting little kids for them, like elementary-school-age kids. Babies. It’s scary thinking about it.
So yeah, I guess that’s where Junior was today, off doing whatever with some of the Raiders. Maybe he wants to join the gang. Maybe he’ll show up to school tomorrow with a bald head and black eyes and that whole deal. I don’t want to think about what he might have been up to. I hope he keeps clean. But me and the other guys like Javy, Carlos, Edgar, and Gordo, we don’t want none of that scene. We’re just happy doing what we were doing today. Hangin’, ballin’, maybe chillin’ with some fine ladies now and then. I guess in a way we’re like our own little gang.
But like, I’m not actually gonna start using that word to describe us. For one, if I say “gang” at SP and a teacher hears me—or if I flash a sign, or wear Raider gear, or do any gangster stuff at all, even as a joke—they’ll slap a suspension on me so fast. They’ve had a lot of problems with people from our school and gang violence. They’re trying real hard to cut down. Plus, another reason I don’t want to describe me and my friends as a gang is, like, what if they all get into it? What if Javy and Carlos decide that it’s cool and then all of a sudden they want to get a name and colors and they want to start recruiting? And then what if the other gangs started thinking about us as a legit gang? And then what if they tried to war with us? It would all be so scary. My mom would kill me, if someone else hadn’t already. And Jake would be disappointed.
Overall I’d say yeah, I’m happy to be riding the bus to the Eastside most days. But it’s good to know that if things ever get too rough, I’ll always be protected. I was thinking about it this way: I may not like riding home in Mrs. Schwartz’s Lexus, but if I ever need to ditch the hood scene, I know that it’s the perfect getaway car.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Parental Concerns
Sent: 10/22 3:30 p.m.
Hi Ruben,
It’s just come to my attention that in your class two weeks ago you performed a rap song you wrote entitled, “Nothing but a Grammar Thing.” From what I’ve heard, you entered your classroom wearing a large chain and a do-rag and you sang this song, which features words such as “pimp,” “crunk,” and “ho.”
I have received several parental complaints about this performance. One woman even told me that her son was in tears as a result of the vulgar way in which you danced close to his desk.
What concerns me about this song of yours is that it glorifies a certain kind of lifestyle. At a school such as ours, gang activity is no trifling matter. For some of our students, the classroom is a last refuge from “the streets.” We do not need the lewd, misogynistic, violence-glorifying culture of hip-hop music permeating the halls of San Paulo.
I need you to start teaching the material the way it is supposed to be taught. This is the last time I should be sending you a message like this.
Best,
Quentin Greene
Principal, San Paulo Junior High School
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Parental Concerns
Sent: 10/22 10:11 p.m.
Hi Quentin,
I appreciate your feedback. I think I have an idea of how I can teach creatively without causing any controversy. Let’s see how it goes!
Thanks again,
Ruben
8 • Hannah Schwartz
Saturday, October 31
Oh where do I begin …where do I begin…
Do I start the story at 7:22 p.m., when he held my hand for the first time…? Or should I start it at 7:46 p.m., when we first slow danced.… Well, actually, maybe I should start at 10:28 p.m., which was when we…
Oh! But I shouldn’t give away the ending.
How about this. The epic story of my and Chad’s everlasting love for each other starts two weeks and three days ago with the cutest instant message conversation of all time. Like, if they had had AIM back when The Notebook happened, even Noah and Allie couldn’t have had such an adorable chat.
I saved the whole thing and I look at it pretty much every day. Not because I’m a dork, even though I totally am, but because it was just that awesome. Even now, when I reread “Her,” the poem he wrote for me, I remember how nervous I got. Luckily we were chatting and not on Skype, so he couldn’t see me hyperventilating.
That poem!—omg—it’s so amazing—it’s seriously like e.e. cummings status. When Chad signed off, it just hit me, all at once. I went, “OMG. The hottest guy in school is taking me to the dance.” I mean, is that not straight out of a musical? Spotlight on me with tears of joy in my eyes. Even though the Halloween Dance has been over for less than an hour, I still can’t believe it.
And this story gets better and better as it goes on. The two weeks leading from our fateful chat to the dance last night were pure magic. Passing notes in class, sitting together at lunch, sending texts before bed…sigh. Seriously, looking back on it makes me sigh like an ingenue. An ingenue! And yeah, we weren’t going out or anything, but really, we both knew that it was just a matter of waiting…
Waiting for tonight, October 31st. The night of the dance.
So I was freaking out all day because I had to help decorate the gym in the afternoon with the rest of the leadership class, and I wouldn’t have enough time to get ready because my dinner reservations were at five since the dance started so early at seven, because the school is afraid of having, like, random late-night stabbings or something.
Long story short: I panicked a little, some tears were shed, my mom is a goddess, and by the time Chad Matthew Beck arrived at my front door at 4:30, I was a beautiful fairy princess. I had a tiara and a wand and wings and everything, and it was just the right amount of slutty for my mom to be okay with, and oh, it was perfect. Chad was dressed as a Viking and, omg, he was so hot. He had the spiky helmet and the battle-ax and the chest plate with the built-in pecs (which he totally didn’t need, by the way, with the water polo man-chest he’s got).
First we took some extremely cute pictures. Don’t worry, they’re already up on Facebook. Then my mom drove the two of us to Sapori D’Italia, which was super-embarrassing. I begged her begged her begged her to let us get a limo service, but she said that that was ridiculous and that I have to wait until high school. I mean, luckily she didn’t humiliate me too bad when the three of us were in the car, but when she
started talking about how me and Chad have grown up together since preschool…back when we apparently used to take baths together or something…well yeah, I had some suicidal thoughts.
When we got to the restaurant, our group was already there waiting for us. Chad and I decided to go with a small group of just our absolute closest friends, so there were only thirteen people total. Besides the two of us, there was, of course, the happy couple Kristen and Alex (they went as salt and pepper. And they ended up winning Cutest Pairs Costume at the dance. Barf), Rachel and Avery S. (even though everyone knows he wants Kristen now, so some major drama there), Emily Colman and Spenser (dressed as a geisha and a ninja, omg, adorable), Avery P. and this guy Sam from her gymnastics team (biggest forearms I’ve ever seen), Meghan and Bryce Sherman (boring), and playing the role of thirteenth wheel this evening—the odd girl out—was Lauren Gardner-Smith. Come to think of it, I don’t think she’s ever been linked with a guy before. Huh. Maybe she’s a lesbian.
I guess we could’ve invited Jamie Mackintosh to be Lauren’s lezzie date, but—oh wait, that’s right—I hate Jamie Mackintosh. She thinks she’s the new me, and she is so not the new me. I would never have red hair. God likes me too much.
I’m losing track of the big picture here, which is that I went to a dance with Chad #@&%ing Beck. The details of dinner are irrelevant. We all ate, some of us less than others (Avery P. barely touched her plate. Hmm…), and then a few of the parents gave us a ride to SP, which is where the plot truly thickens.…
He held my hand on the walk into the gym. Chad held my hand! The reason was that there was this whole spooky walkway with ghosts and skeletons and stuff, and even though I had helped decorate the thing like, three hours before, I pretended to be scared so my big strong Viking would protect me…and he totally did! His hand was like, twice the size of mine and surprisingly smooth.
So I thought my night was complete. Right there. The hand-hold was exactly what I wanted it to be. I didn’t really expect too much Chad time when it came to dancing, because, well…dancing is probably the least exciting part of an SP dance. The guys and girls tend to split right down the middle of the gym, kind of like we’re Amish or something. All the girls pretty much dance in a big group together, and we have a good time, but what we really want is for the boys to come dance, and they never do.
Trash Can Days Page 4