Life of Two Best Friends Chpt 1

CHAPTER 2

Getting ready for school is a minor thing. You would think that if your dad was not a famous artist. Mine is, so I have a “certain persona to uphold,” words said by mom constantly. Dad doesn’t care one way or another. If it was just his opinion I needed to care about I would probably rock a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Why dress to impress. It’s high school. Nobody is going to remember anyways. Unless you are that depressing wannabe jock turned gym instructor; who constantly talks about his glory days, while rocking a beer belly and balding head. Our gym instructor is my inspiration for that statement. Sad poor Mr. Hanly.

Anyways back on topic, dressing for school. Usually I dress casually; jeans, hoodie, vans, maybe a hat. Just the run of the mill chill clothes. However today, I know mom will becoming home at some point and I don’t want a lecture; especially if the guys are around. Mom usually picks the greatest time to lecture me. So I guess today is dark jeans, button up, and my nicer shoes; unknown to the brand. Let’s be honest, I dress for comfort. I’m boring. Also as a swimmer you wear jammers, so what’s the point on spending an immense amount of money on clothes you won’t be wearing when it truly matters.
The only perk I did take was a car. I hate the bus. Not because of the general idea that the bus is lame, but because I live on the edge of town; I would have to walk several blocks to the nearest bus stop. Why would I waste my time walking when my dad offered me a car. I’m a teenager with a permit and a sick ride. A tricked out jeep wrangler. Imagine all the bells and whistles, and times it by ten then that would be my jeep. Remember teenager guy, all guys like their stuff to be over the top.

Leaving the house is a hit or a miss. Either I say goodbye or I grab some cash and lock the door behind me. Today like most days, it was a grab and dash day. Usually I pick up Ken and Matthews on the way because they live in the close neighborhoods. However, Ken had an early practice with coach and Matthews had to get there super early since his parents had to leave on a quick trip. So just being me, I ran through McDonalds and then headed to school.

I decided to skip the part where I describe to you what my drive looks like, because let’s be honest, you wouldn’t really care about the neighbors, scenery, or buildings.

Slowly I pull into the parking lot at Charleston High School. The only good part about this place is the swim team. And Jenny. But nothing else is really worth my time. Well let’s go look for the guys. Ken will probably be at the pool still. Our coach usually will push us until the last possible minute; Coach Brown might be a strict, uptight, and my way or the highway type of guy, but he is also a genius coach. You’ll meet him later today at practice. So my best bet was to look for Matthews. He would probably be in the homeroom or in the yard; either dead asleep or doing all the homework for the rest of the year. Jerry would sprint in at the last possible moment; Jerry always gets as much sleep as possible so that he has enough energy for practice.

Maybe I should describe this place to you. Well its a typical high school. Tall brick building at the front. No fences; probably the understanding that if students skip the principal will just flunk them and take pleasure in ruining their lives. The halls are as generic as you can imagine. Lockers lining the walls; white walls, white lockers, white tiled floor. As I mentioned before, boring and not worth much. After the many halls of lockers you walk into the yard area. Imagine all concrete ground, lunch tables surrounding, various seating nooks, and the occasional pep talk poster shoving positive thinking down your throat. I’ll be stoping the tour here because I see Ken and Matthews chillin at a table across yard. But beyond this area is the classrooms; the place where teachers talk more about their opinions or what they disagree with in the world, and then reward us with hours of homework.

“Ken. Matthews. You seen Jerry yet?” I said walking up to the guys.

“Nah George, he won’t be here for,” looking at his watch before answering, “about another ten-ish minutes,” Ken said as he leaned his lower back against the table top.

Matthews was, of course, laying on top of the table; he really didn’t care about the rules. Give him a break, we had a gruling three hour practice last night and then he had to wake up at six o’clock. You would not care either if you were in his shoes.

“Yeah I guess so. How was practice Ken?” I asked as Ken was stabbing Matthews with a pen in various places.

“The norm. Coach had me doing speed intervals with repetitive sets. I did about two thousands yards worth of twenty-fives. It was tiresome but I can’t complain. Twenty-fives are the best!” he said ending his statment as he jabbed the pen into Matthews side.

Causing Matthews to yelp and throw his body into an upright position atop the table. “Dude! What’s your deal? Man…” Matthews complained as he rested back on his hands. Smartly not falling asleep again because he knew the awaited fate.

“Come on Matthews. I am saving you from being left like last time,” Ken said chuckling. Probably remebering the last time Matthews fell asleep on a table and we decided to leave him there. He slept through most of the day; it was a great prank. He got so busted when his parents found out, but he made up for it when he aced all the tests without being in the classroom.

The first bell went off and we slowly gathered ourselves up and started towards our homeroom. Luckily we were all in the same first class. It made coming to school on time worth it. Hanging with the guys for a bit before the boring classes begin made up for it. Our homeroom teacher is pretty legit. She never assinged seats; she just told us that if she caught us cheating or disrupting the class once we would be moved permenatly. So Ken, Matthews, Jerry, and myself took up the second row. We were all nerds, why sit in the back with the possibility of being behind a brainless idiot or behind a chatty girl. We all wanted to get through high school as clean and as smooth as possible. So we got in our seats waiting for the panicked Jerry to rush in the door almost being late. There went the second bell. I don’t know about your school but we have three bells. One is: ‘get to your class’, two is: ‘warning’, and three is: ‘you are tardy’. Jerry usually came in before the third bell. Just as I finished thinking it there came Jerry.

Panting like Jerry just ran a marathon, “Hey guys, am I late?”

“Nah dude, you are right at your norm,” Ken answered.

“Sweet,” Jerry sat himself down in his seat next to mine just as the third bell rang. He gave us a thumbs up; congratulating himself once again for beating the system.

“Congratulations Jerry once again,” Mrs. Chaplen, our homeroom teacher said as she entered the class, “for not being marked tardy again. Will this be your goal for the rest of the semester?”

“Of course Ms. Chaplen, I have to keep you on your toes,” Jerry said confidently and quite bravely added a wink.

If you remember I mentioned previously that Jerry didn’t like to talk to others, but when it came to official positioned adults he was a charmer. Girls our age, yeah only mumbling would come out of his mouth, but with Ms. Chaplen or any other teacher he would be daring. I asked him once why he was like that and he said, “Because the teachers probably hate their jobs occasionally. If one student makes their days interesting, maybe they will continue to teach the lazy teenagers of today.”

Its true what he said, but I wouldn’t be able to wink at my teacher. He is just crazy.

“Okay class, normal run of the mill announcements,” Ms. Chaplen said ignoring Jerry’s wink.

It was just the normal announcements: lunch specials, sporting events, new clubs, report cards, etc. Homeroom is just a class to keep the students informed of extra activities that students can do if they want to fill up their days. Our huge swim meet was mentioned. It’s the one that is at the end of the semester. It’s called Qualifying Champs. Pretty much all scouts or the people of the monatana school come and see what our team is capable of doing. It’s what me and the guys are mainly training towards.

Well after fifteen minutes of announcements and various students annoucing events within their groups; it was free time to talk amoung ourselves at a resonable volume. The room erupted behind us; Mrs. Chaplen gave them a look and it quieted quickly, but still their was a constant noise. The guys and I turned towards each other and just crabbed about the practice last night. Ten minutes goes by quickly when we don’t want it to; like all things good in the world. The bell chimed and there was a mad exodus. We said thanks to Ms. Chaplen and exited the class into the moving mass of students. Jerry and Ken left going to their next class, while Matthews went off to math class. I stood waiting for…Jenny.

“Hey George!”

Introduction: You might have heard a similar story like this before; however, this story came from a dream. I have no recollection of how or why I dreamed this dream, but it was interesting enough for me to write down.

Hopefully you will enjoy, or even more so I hope I can complete a story for once. Completely fiction! Not based on people or real places.

Chapter 1

I’ve been best friends with Jenny since preschool; she has always been there. I guess I should just tell you right off the back, I am totally into her. I think I fell for her the first day she offered me the play dough; of course the big part of that story was the other kids were being mean and she ignored them and gave it to me anyways. That was the first time someone other than my dad cared; after that day I was hooked.

Back to Jenny, Her full name is Jennifer Bailey. Jenny is beautiful. She has steel green eyes, freckles over her nose, a shiny red-tint hair, and the softest looking lips. She is currently the same height as me; even though I do attempt to stand in ways so that I can seem taller. She is probably the nicest person; but that also means she is super popular. “Popular with the guys” is what I really mean, which means I get to listen to stupid confessions day in and day out. She keeps me around just in case the guys get ruff or creepy, which in turn makes me their next punching bag. Whatever, if she needs me there I’m there.

Maybe I should have started with myself, but Jenny is always one of the first things in my mind. My name is George. George Matthews. Yes, my dad is the famous country singer Adam Matthews. My mom’s name is Christine Matthews. She is some kind of manager, I only see her once or twice a month. I love my mom, but she seems more like a visitor than a mom.

Back to me, I am roughly five foot eight, blond hair, tanned skin, a nerd in school, a swimmer, and other than those to hobbies I am Jenny’s friend. You are probably thinking I am lame, and you would be correct, but its only the middle of sophmore year. I can grow and expand my horizons; I can be more than just a swimmer nerd, who loves a girl. Anything is possible.

Back to Jenny. Jenny has a widowed mom; her dad died when she was little. Car accident. Even with those circumstances, Jenny has been loved by her mom, Mrs. Bailey, enough to cover the loss of love from a father. Also my dad has taken over the title of replacement dad, which I’m happy for Jenny, but it makes me more and more like a brother and less like possible boyfriend material. Jenny is an only child, which is probably why she is super popular. Some kids make up not having siblings by having lots of friends.

Unlike me, I have no siblings but I am content with Jenny and my three swimmer friends: Jerry Roberts, Ken Peters, Matthew Wu. The guys are great company. Jerry Roberts is the typical swimmer: long, lean, built, short brown hair. You would think approcable, but not so much. Other than me or the guys he doesn’t like to talk or interact. He is a lot like me, nerd, swimmer, only child, hopeful olympic swimmer, his specialty is backstroke though, etc. Ken Peters is a swimmer not by choice. His parents found out that I swam so he also was roped into swimming. He is probably five foot six. This might come off mean, but pretty much average; other than his height. However he is a dynimte breaststroker in the pool. Back to Ken, he is pale skinned, red hair, pretty much normal. Matthew Wu. Another quiet friend. Other than swimming he does school and then goes home. He is just focusing on graduating and moving on to bigger better things; however, keeping freesytle swimming front and center. There is no reason to mention the guys’ parents. They are just average parents, and the gang have pretty much unoffically been adopted into my family.

So, that is the gang. I am the butterflier of the gang. Which if you don’t know swim lingo I’ll tell you the gist. Four strokes: Butterfly, Backstroke, Breaststroke, and Freestyle. We can all swim all the strokes but like all swimmers you have a specialty. It worked out prefectly that we all each had one of the four. We create a medly relay, but we also compete in the all freestyle relays, also various solo races. Again if you don’t speak swimming no problem. I won’t be going into details too much, but I wanted non swimmers to know the basics. Moving on.

Our plan is to all go to college together and keep our dream team going, all the way to the olymipics. However, it all depends on their parents. My dad says, “Follow your dreams. “My mom says, “Sure whatever you say, honey.” Again I love my mom but wow. So yeah for me I’ll be continuing swimming until i’m old and unable, then maybe I’ll coach. There is a two year highschool in Montana that is fully swimming structured; however, you have to be invited personally. That would be awesome, but I have to wait until juinor year; they only want somewhat mature students. By that year of school you know if you want to continue swimming or not. The school load plus swimming load is unbelieviablly huge.

See I can talk about things other than Jenny; believe me if I didn’t know her my vocabulary would consist of only schooling and swimming jargon. The guys hate it when I go all mush when talking about her. They tell me to grow a pair and just tell her, or shut up about her when I’m in their presence. Which I opted for the latter. The first option will only happen if I needed to. So, when I talk to you about Jenny you can assume that my buds are not around.

I’ve pretty much summed up my life story; I’ll tell you more about my dad when you meet him later. If you meet my mom I’ll tell you what I know. I’ll introduce other people that are vital to this story when I need to, but for now you know the important ones in my life. This year is half way over, let’s head out to school so that we can see what a day in the life of two best friends is like.