or when someone gets a laugh out of you.
math class was boring enough, hence why i had my drawing notebook out in the first place. i was erratic with the use of my pencil, sure, but the boredom i'm sure i radiated was thick and pungent.
with a snatching movement, i grab my paper stick for blending and hold it to the drawing. through the music in my earbuds, i heard a burst of laughter.
i looked up at the girl sitting next to me. i plucked out one earbud and gave her a bizarre look.
"you good?"
though her laughter, she managed a question: "is that a joint?"
i looked to the art utensil in my hand, then back to her. "uh . . . no. it's for shading and blending." i showed her how it worked, but her giggles weren't containable. "why would i have a joint at school, in the case that i smoke?"
"i don't know, you never know with the students here."
"fair enough," i said with a laugh. even as the semi-new kids at our school, we knew the ways of the general populace. if sex was the national obsession in the 1920s, then weed is the schoolwide interest in 2017.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
