Is this intro to a rewrite good?

And so it begins.

“Let’s go over the homework from last night. Please turn your books to page 193.” said the teacher whose name slips me at the moment.

I flipped to the page in my book to find there was no paper where my homework once lay.

Ugh, again? Jeez, I swear, it’s like nothing of mine can ever stay in one place. Including my mind. Why can’t I just get done with this incredibly boring pre-algebra stuff already and go get famous off of something like being some hero or—

“Ahem, Mr. L[bleep]?”

“Huh?” I turned my “attentiveness” switch back on and returned to the starkness of the most white and cookie-cutter classroom you could find in Fillmore Junior High.

“I asked you to come up here and show us how you did number one on the homework.”

...How did I do it?

I awkwardly walked through the long row of homogeneous desks to the front of the classroom.

“Well, first, uh, I took the equation of the line... and then, er, I determined the slantedness of the line—“

“The slope!” some chick yelled from the back of the classroom.

“Yeeeeeah, that thing. The slope. After that, I...”

My mind went blank as the classroom eyeballed me silently.

“I...”

Nothing but the slow tick, tick, tick of the clock made a sound in the room.

“I... have to go to the bathroom.”

I zipped right through the door and made a beeline straight to the men’s restroom.

Before lunch that day, I was fumbling with my locker’s contents when I saw everyone in the hallway file out of the way to let through a trifecta of girls, one a blonde, one a redhead, and the other a brunette. But other than that, nearly everything about them looked exactly the same. Clothes. Hairstyles. Heck, they had the same little walk with their shoulders high and their noses up.

They were the Plastics of Fillmore Junior High.

I sighed as they walked past, but the blonde in the middle stopped and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hey.” she said in a voice that sounded like she was desperately trying to be hot.

“Oh, hi.” I replied nervously.

“Do you have a date for the dance later?” she said as she took a lollipop out of her pocket.

“I, er, wasn’t planning to go, actually.” I was tense as heck.

“Well, I kinda wanted to have a nice, kinda nerdy type by my side.” she said.

“But not two days ago you poured soda on my head and then stuck gum under me at lunch.”

“That was then.” She put the sucker in her mouth and twirled it. “This is now.”

This just reeks of suspiciousness.

“Well, uh, okay, I guess I’ll try to make it.”

“Great. See you then.” She snapped in the air and blew a kiss at me.

“Oh, and one more thing? Thanks for letting me borrow your homework.”

The Plastics walked off in their formation.

I was speechless for a second before I felt someone breathing behind me. I swirled around and screamed.

“GOOD LORD, CALE, WHAT THE FRAK?!”

“Sorry, dude, I was just observing!” Cale backed away from me and curled up into his gray jacket like a turtle. I groaned.

“Okay, whatever. But did you see that?” I said.

“No, I was too busy looking at that rabbit play with a blender. Of course I saw it! Dude, you’re going to the Winter Break dance later with Lilly Freakin’ Rockwell, and you didn’t do anything but be a nerd.”

“Oh, shut up, Cale, you’re nerdier than me.”

“Exactly! Which is why she picked you. God, I need to make myself more like you, you’re like the Mr. T of nerddom.”

“No, I’m not, and no, you don’t, Cale. You’re great with all of your nerdiness intact.” It was then that I saw the welding mask right next to Cale.

“Uh, who is that?” I asked.

“Oh, that guy? He’s a friend of mine. You might know him. Blonde, tall guy. Real strong and big and beautiful.”

The welder punched Cale in the chest and said something that I didn’t get all of because of the muffle.

“Hey, Allison.” I said as the welder took off his, or rather, her, mask.

“Oh, hey there, Tre LaCasanova.”

“Ugh, shut up, Allie, you know that’s not my last name, it’s L[bleep].”

“You’re still macking the chicks though!” Cale said. Neither Allie nor I replied with anything except a blank stare.

“I thought we agreed that you would stop trying to use slang because it makes you sound like a jive turkey, and I’m the jive turkey here.”

“Okay, I remember. Sorry.”

“Dang right you’re sorry.” I mumbled.

“Alright, guys, let’s quit yapping and get to lunch. The line’s probably outrageous already.” said Allie.

And so the three of us ran toward the cafeteria that instant.

“Turn your books to page 193 and let’s go over the homework from last night.” said the teacher whose name slips me at the moment.

Dang right you’re sorry.” I mumbled.
“Alright, guys, let’s quit yapping and get to lunch. The line’s probably outrageous already.” Allie chirped.

I flipped to the page in my book to find there was no paper where my homework once lied.

Here we go.

“Alright class. Settle down, please. Shall we go over our assignment from last night?” In front of the blackboard was my teacher, her brown, elegant-looking dress drooping to her heels. It must had been a Tuesday.

I hauled out my big book o’ algebra from my backpack, and flipped to p. 93 – in which there were several graphing questions which I agonized over yesterday night. Why do teachers feel like they have to torture us, even when we’re away from their grasp? Because the principal pays them lousy money for it. Some living that would make. Anyways, where the frak did my paper go? It wasn’t there where I’d stuffed it. A blushing sweat rushed over me. This was embarrassing. I hurriedly rummaged through my pack, fingers searching every dark corner for it. All the time I was wondering why I had to bore myself with this incredibly dull algebra stuff - when I could be a hero already by this time. I could be saving the cat from that tree. Yea. That’s the life. I’m the boss I’m the boss I’m the boss..

“Ahem!”

Oh darn. I felt a shiver up my spine. My teacher must have noticed me. I didn’t dare to look up. I just froze in my seat, and hoped I could disappear.

“Mr Listman!” she called. My name. And when she says Mister, you know you’re in deep frak.

Here I was in the starkness of the most white and cookie-cutter classroom you could find anywhere on the planet. Welcome to Fillmore Junior High. Enjoy your learning.

“Mr Listman!” she said. “Would you kindly come up front and show us how you did question no. 1!”

..How did I do it again? I was trudging between the long desk rows of desks, to the front of the classroom. I swear my legs had some lead weight then. Then before I knew it, I was right beside Miss Mc Graw, and she had her hand out to me with the chalk. I gulped. Her big, cute, brown eyes were scrutinizing me all over. Man, she can be pretty sometimes, I admit. If only she weren’t such a— a bum.

I took the chalk.

“Well, first, uh,” I went, facing my class— I get stage fright. “I to-took the equation of the line.. and then, er, I determined the line’s.. slantedness?“

“Tre! It’s the slope!” some chick yelled from the back.

“Yeeeeeah, that thing. The slope. After that, I..”

My mind went blank. The classroom was eyeballing me. I could feel their gazes burning away at my head.

“I..” I went. There was nothing but the slow tick, tick, tick of the overhead clock. “—excuse me, I got to go to the bathroom.”

And I zipped right out the door and made a beeline straight to the Mens restroom, where I stayed in one of the stalls, waiting for the bell to ring. That was close. I'd pick my stuff up on the interim, provided the teacher hadn't confiscated them. Or that someone hadn't taken a wizz on it.

I'm a scaredy-cat like that.

After I picked up my pack from the classroom amid the chaos of shuffling people, I was shuffling away from that place - looking behind my shoulder every which second for any signs of Miss Mc Graw's wrath. When I went around a couple of corners, into the foyer, I saw she wasn't chasing after me. I was safe at last. Maybe. You never know if she's really calling the principal on you. Things can get really unfair for that matter. There was Jose once, and I saw him drop his chewed gum on the floor, and my English teacher like stepped on the thing.

I didn't know if Jose did that on purpose, or if the teacher even glanced back at him. All I knew was, I saw the teacher walk on like she wasn't bothered – Jose and I, and a lot of others were holding their mouths shut in a sort of awe. Holy cow. I actually believed Jose could have gotten away with that.

Before I knew it however, Jose got called away to the principal's office tomorrow morning. They'd announced his name loud on the P.A. He had his head down as he went there, didn't say a word. Gosh knows what happened when the principal shut the door. The windows were blocked out and all. Cale said it was like Room 101 in The Darabonts, where the teachers put truth serum up his butt and made him watch a whole ton of anti-fun videos until he came out a totally different guy. I'd be kicking and screaming— um, yelling (cause screaming's kinda girly) if they ever did that to me. They'll never take me alive!

Anyways, that was the last time I saw Jose. I only heard rumours after, that Jose got liquidated, or that he was walking out of there grinning, or that he ratted out every name he could think of so he wouldn't get in trouble alone. I'd hate to imagine if that had happened – and the idea got everyone scared, wetting their pants. But yeah, we never saw him again at the school, and we never got to know just why. Everyone was paranoid after that. Better watch your backs, or they'll throw you into Jose's Locker.

Now was a break period. Everyone was hanging out in the foyer, sitting by the walls playing their PS Ps or chatting. A group of guys were throwing their paper airplanes in some contest. I couldn't care much anyways. I was all over looking for my friends, when— everyone was standing up all of a sudden, moving away to make some space at the middle, and there was the silence like before the national anthem starts playing at the gym.

I knew who it was.

Right then and there, I saw the Blondies. They were strutting down in between the others, like royalty walking. They had the deep red lipstick on their lips - the high and mighty shrug on their tight shoulders, and the white and red matching outfits they had on. You just can't breathe when you see them. It's like hypnosis or something. (I would tell you all their names, but I'm always nervous one of them'll nab me here in mid-sentence. *double take* Yeah.)

They were walking towards me. I didn't realize it at first. I thought I was too unimportant to be even noticed. In the grand scheme of the school hierarchy, I was the little mouse. It had its advantages, being close to invisible, but you have to watch you don't get trampled on, let's say, by the gossip gurls and hussies. They can be lots of trouble if you ever see their bad sides.

The Blondies were standing in front of me. It was me and them here in the playing field. Cue the tumbleweed rolling by in the background. I gulped. What did they want out of me? The whole thing reeked of suspiciousness.

Then their leader stepped forth – I'll be breaking my 'bout of paranoia, but I'll tell you, her name was Allison Everdeen. If the ordinary blonde was a candle, she would be the lightbulb.◊ She had on a white headband which brushed back all that curling hair, and I could see her face, being close to a perfect beauty. No acne breakouts (I want what she's having), thick outward lashes, smooth skin, and her green steely eyes eyeing me over.

She was talking to me.

I was as tense as heck, did I mention that? I was on the verge of kneeling on the floor, to bow down to Her Graciousness, and say out loud, “I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy! I'm scum! I suck!” But I stood my ground. Wasn't gonna let that get the best of me.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” I gulped, and tugged my collar open.

“Tre.. is that right?”

“Um, yep. That's me. Hehe.”

“I was wondering, say, if you're still needing somebody to go to the dance with.” She was smiling, coolly.

I paused. It was like having a boom mic in your face, her there, and everything you say gets echoed big-time. I said, “I wasn't planning to go, really. I got homework to do, races to win, and I'm plain tired.”

“Tired?” Oh, man, Allison wasn't buying it. She was pouting, and she had this puppy-eyed look on her face. You couldn't resist her if you saw it. “Tired you say? Tre.. I'm sad. You disappoint me. I don't.. want to be.. alone.. at the dance.”

And she was holding my hands in hers, gosh, her hands felt so soft. She was on the verge of tearing up, actually, and it killed me inside. I didn't want to be a jerk then to her.

“No,” I said. “The most important homework I have now, is you. I can always.. race later. I'll make it. To-tomorrow night. For you. I'll definitely come.”

Then she smiled at me, and she let my hands go. “Great. Thanks, Tre.” She leaned in to kiss my forehead – blehh— it's so gooey and wet, but I was blushing real hard nonetheless. My heart pounded. I thought I was in love.

Allison went away with her friends. She gave me a last look over her shoulder, before she disappeared around the corner.

I could hardly breathe, as I stood frozen there like a statue. Nobody said anything for about a minute.

In retrospect, it was one of the biggest slip-ups of my life.