something I had never done before.
Greg gave us our assignment with the
attitude of Santa presenting orphans with
shiny presents.
How the hell was I supposed to write
about something I’d never experienced?
Seriously, how?
Everyone else seemed just as perplexed
as I was, and a guy sitting near me was
muttering under his breath and most of the
words weren’t complimentary. We had the
entire class period to complete the
assignment, so I got out my notebook and a
pen and tried to figure something that I
could write so I could just complete the
damn thing.
Well, the first thing I could think of to
write about was completely out of the
question. My still-intact virginity was a relic
from my other life. I’d been way too
focused on school and other things, and it
didn’t mesh well with my political
aspirations.
There was also something romantic, I’d
thought at the time, about saving that
milestone in my life for marriage.
My ex had been completely on board
with it; in fact, he’d been more for it than I
was. We’d done things here and there, but
every time it got heated one of us stopped
it, citing our vows of chastity. The funny
thing was, it never really got all that heated.
The kissing was fine, but I never found
myself wanting to just rip his clothes off like
in some horny teenage fantasy. There was
probably something wrong with me. I had
no problem getting myself off, so my sex
drive wasn’t broken, but I never fantasized
about getting hot and heavy with Matt. He
wasn’t a hot-and-heavy kind of guy.
Honestly, I didn’t care anymore. It was
low on the list of things I was concerned
about. Right above floods and right below
zombie apocalypse.
I tried to think of something to write
that would fill two pages with my small
handwriting. Some of my classmates were
already writing away, but others were just
as stuck as I was.
Music. I wanted to write something
about music.
The only thing I could think of was that
I’d never performed onstage, at least not
outside of a late-afternoon fantasy. I’d
actually never really sung in public. I’d been
in choirs in school, but had never tried out
for anything where I had to sing a solo.
I wrote a sentence, and then another,
and then another.
I described the stage and the lights and
the fluttery feeling of captivating everyone
in the audience with just my voice and
maybe a guitar.
Before I knew it, I had filled three pages,
front and back.
“Okay, everyone. Just hand in what
you’ve got and I’ll go make copies. Don’t
worry about neatness or spelling. That’s not
the point of this exercise. The point is just
to write what comes to your mind, to
stretch it and see what happens.”
Greg left and people broke out talking,
mostly complaining about the assignment
and how lame it was and that they’d
bullshitted their way through it. Yeah, like
Greg wasn’t going to see right through that.
At least I’d been honest about mine.
No one talked to me, for which I was
grateful. Greg came back with a huge stack
of papers and handed them to each of us.
“Okay, so your assignment for next time
is to read everyone else’s and make at least
three comments on each paper.
Got it? You’re dismissed.” He waved his
hand, and I wondered if he’d been British in
a past life. He certainly talked like it, even
though he didn’t have an accent.
I was freaking about everyone else
reading my paper because it was so
personal. I hadn’t meant it to be, but the
words had sort of come out of nowhere.
Nothing I could do about it now.
I pulled the Skittles and M&M’s out of
my bag and tore them open, pouring an
equal amount into my hand before folding
the bags back up and putting them back.
You and your weird snacks. Sometimes
I wonder if there’s something wrong with
your taste buds, Jossy.
I cracked an M&M’s between my teeth
and chased it with a Skittles.
That night I finally got around
Greg gave us our assignment with the
attitude of Santa presenting orphans with
shiny presents.
How the hell was I supposed to write
about something I’d never experienced?
Seriously, how?
Everyone else seemed just as perplexed
as I was, and a guy sitting near me was
muttering under his breath and most of the
words weren’t complimentary. We had the
entire class period to complete the
assignment, so I got out my notebook and a
pen and tried to figure something that I
could write so I could just complete the
damn thing.
Well, the first thing I could think of to
write about was completely out of the
question. My still-intact virginity was a relic
from my other life. I’d been way too
focused on school and other things, and it
didn’t mesh well with my political
aspirations.
There was also something romantic, I’d
thought at the time, about saving that
milestone in my life for marriage.
My ex had been completely on board
with it; in fact, he’d been more for it than I
was. We’d done things here and there, but
every time it got heated one of us stopped
it, citing our vows of chastity. The funny
thing was, it never really got all that heated.
The kissing was fine, but I never found
myself wanting to just rip his clothes off like
in some horny teenage fantasy. There was
probably something wrong with me. I had
no problem getting myself off, so my sex
drive wasn’t broken, but I never fantasized
about getting hot and heavy with Matt. He
wasn’t a hot-and-heavy kind of guy.
Honestly, I didn’t care anymore. It was
low on the list of things I was concerned
about. Right above floods and right below
zombie apocalypse.
I tried to think of something to write
that would fill two pages with my small
handwriting. Some of my classmates were
already writing away, but others were just
as stuck as I was.
Music. I wanted to write something
about music.
The only thing I could think of was that
I’d never performed onstage, at least not
outside of a late-afternoon fantasy. I’d
actually never really sung in public. I’d been
in choirs in school, but had never tried out
for anything where I had to sing a solo.
I wrote a sentence, and then another,
and then another.
I described the stage and the lights and
the fluttery feeling of captivating everyone
in the audience with just my voice and
maybe a guitar.
Before I knew it, I had filled three pages,
front and back.
“Okay, everyone. Just hand in what
you’ve got and I’ll go make copies. Don’t
worry about neatness or spelling. That’s not
the point of this exercise. The point is just
to write what comes to your mind, to
stretch it and see what happens.”
Greg left and people broke out talking,
mostly complaining about the assignment
and how lame it was and that they’d
bullshitted their way through it. Yeah, like
Greg wasn’t going to see right through that.
At least I’d been honest about mine.
No one talked to me, for which I was
grateful. Greg came back with a huge stack
of papers and handed them to each of us.
“Okay, so your assignment for next time
is to read everyone else’s and make at least
three comments on each paper.
Got it? You’re dismissed.” He waved his
hand, and I wondered if he’d been British in
a past life. He certainly talked like it, even
though he didn’t have an accent.
I was freaking about everyone else
reading my paper because it was so
personal. I hadn’t meant it to be, but the
words had sort of come out of nowhere.
Nothing I could do about it now.
I pulled the Skittles and M&M’s out of
my bag and tore them open, pouring an
equal amount into my hand before folding
the bags back up and putting them back.
You and your weird snacks. Sometimes
I wonder if there’s something wrong with
your taste buds, Jossy.
I cracked an M&M’s between my teeth
and chased it with a Skittles.
That night I finally got around
Similar Books
