Iris, Chapter one Options

[sporadic]

This is Chapter One of a story that I started writing this summer and never picked up on again... Don't get all pissy at me because Iris is stereotypical and anti-prep. Yeah, yeah, I know. But Iris lives in a stereotypical school with stereotypical cliques and stereotypical stereotypes so GET OVER IT. *takes a breath* Enjoy =]

CHAPTER ONE

People hate me. I hate people. This is how the world works for me. As an educated guess, I'd say about less than 1% of the 8th grade population actually know who I am. Frankly, I like it this way. Of the small percent of people who actually know who I am, I'm known as some sort of suicidal-bomber-to-be or a Satan-worshiping Gothic spazz. In any case, people are overrated, forget them.
Right, so, here I am, scribbling in my Algebra notebook, completely ignoring my teacher (who is completely upped on caffeine, if you ask me) and trying to pretend that I don't notice the guy behind me, who is poking my back with a pencil, whispering, "Freak" at the back of my chair. After enduring a minute of this torture, I whip around and glare at him. When I glare, it is especially frightening, seeing as how my mother permitted me to get new color contacts; black and red. It can really screw people over, just to have me looking at them... Especially when I look into their eyes.
"Knock it off." I say, in my best impression of a mean voice. The dude shapes up, unbelievably fast. God, I love these contacts.
" I was just kidding!" he whispers, trying to hide his terror.
Inside of my head, I find this to be amusing. Turning back to my notebook, I jot down a problem written on the board. However, having not paid attention, I have absolutely no idea what it means, or how to solve it. Using my resort answer, I sigh and write "x = 34". Needless to say, I get the problem wrong. Oh, well. It's a good thing I'm not planning to be in a field requiring Algebra.
The bell rings. Thank you, God.
It occurs to me now that you, my dear reader, do not even know who I am. My name is Iris Matthews. I am 14 years old, 5'5, 140 lbs., very pale, a brunette, an atheist, and a complete loner. I like to think that I choose to be the way I am, but sometimes it seems like it's everyone else choosing for me. I am averaging a 3.7ish GPA, thanks to my resounding C in Algebra. No one understands Algebra, that's just the way it is, always has been. It's especially hard to understand this subject when your own teacher barely knows the Additive Property of Zero.
My closet is full of unoriginal, yet still oddly unorthodox (to today's society), clothing. Crammed full of NOFX, Reel Big Fish, Brodie Punk, and other such band shirts, not to mention tons of random shirts, all advertising random events that happened years ago. All sorts of jeans, black, denim, olive-green (eh), whatever. Every pair of pants with the entire bottom 5 inches of the jeans ripped, torn, battered, or any other type of ruined. I have one pair of Converse sneakers,
and one other pair of beaten combat boots.
I'll stop talking about my wardrobe now.
At one point, I think I actually did have "friends". From about the beginning of my life to 6th grade, it was all popular, happy, close-minded Abercrombie and Fitch clones. Then, it was all about "Goths" and "Punks" until they finally abandoned me. Or maybe I abandoned them. Sometimes, it's kind of hard to tell. In any case, I am now completely alone in the world.
Oh, sure, every once in awhile, some person will pity me and try and make nice. I turn them away with colorful language while I try to look very nonchalant and bored. These people turn away, and do not look back fondly.
Slowly trudging to the cafeteria, I keep my head up and look blankly at students who walk past me. This is how I pass the time, freaking the crap out of complete strangers. If you were me, you'd probably understand how entertaining it is. Before I know it, I've scared ten 7th graders, four 8th graders, three 9th graders, one very straight-faced 10th grader, and I am now at the lunch line.

Leaning against the wall, I smile grimly as the people on my left and right slowly and "subtly" inch away from me. In 2 minutes, I have reached the cafeteria ladies, and I pick up a tray of pizza.
Another thing that other teenagers and I do not have in common, usually: I like cafeteria food. I can't help it, being born in my generation. I thrive on chemically processed and carbohydrate-infested food. Delicious, eh? That's what I thought.
After paying for the food, I walk over to the nearest empty table and set my tray down. Digging through my bag, I happen to find an interesting book that I picked up from the library. Some sort of coming-of-age book about a dysfunctional girl. How original. Sadly, this is my preferred book genre.
5 minutes pass by, and I am deeply engrossed in the book. It is surprisingly interesting and witty. A noise. I hear a noise. Startled, my head (and the rest of my body) jumps a centimeter up. Very dignified, I know. The next thing I see is a guy, a tray, and an Abercrombie and Fitch T-Shirt. My mind steps back in disgust.
"Yes?" I say, coolly.
"What? I just decided to sit down, that's all." he says, to my dissatisfaction, in an irritated voice.
"I noticed that, but why are you sitting here?" I say, trying to hint as much as possible how annoying I find him to be.
He swallows, and I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down, staring straight at my raccoon, narrowed, red and black eyes, he says, rather boldly, "Freedom of the press."
Huh? I blink.
"What? Are you planning to do some major exposé on me? Oh, I can see the headlines now: Satan Worshiping Bomber Found to Have Emotions. Well, hardy-har. I don't think so, bud. Now get lost, cause I don't feel like entertaining you or your newspaper."
His eyebrows go up, and I let out a semi-exasperated breath, he says, "You worship Satan?"

......

"Look, Abercrombie, do you have anything to say that's actually worth hearing?" I am almost at my wits end. This is probably the largest amount of words I've actually said all year. Not just the last sentence, I mean. The whole conversation.
He sighs, "Yeah, but you wouldn't think it is."
When I stare into his eyes, I get all dizzy. Not a good sign. Getting worried.
"Humor me," I say, trying not to let on how nervous I'm getting.
"Okay, well... First off, I'm Bretton Sage."- Bretton? O-kay...-"and I don't mean to bother you"-too late-"but I'm doing an article for the paper"-agh, I knew it. He's a journalist. I roll my eyes-"about the opinions of the people who aren't exactly... er. How can I put this? I'm doing an article about the opinions of people who aren't exactly... of the norm. Do you get what I'm saying?"
I don't know if I should be offended or honored. "Aren't exactly of the norm"? God, what is that supposed to mean? Just spit it out, dude. You know you want to. Just say I'm a freak and get it all over with. After a minute or so, when I'm thinking all of this in my head, "Bretton"'s voice interrupts my thoughts.
"Uh... Hello? Are you planning on responding?"
Oh, and what a response I give him. "I don't know what"- then the bell rings. I give him a quick glare and go to dump my tray.
Walking to my next class, I'm enjoying the Flogging Molly concert that's playing in my head. Once more, my mind is rudely interrupted by Abercrombie-a.k.a. Bretton.
All right. So maybe he didn't actually talk to me. Sadly enough, little Iris might just be developing a "crush" on Bretton.
Hey, I can't help it. He's the first male I've been in contact with since my punk-goth days.

[Heathasm]

i like it, cause i can relate more to your explanation of the stereotype more than any one elses..the being defensive and developing a crush so quickly, hehe. Its decent work

[fairy_princess]

kool, very descriptive. You can really visualise evrything that happens

Ace

[Spirited Away]

I like it a lot.

Everything just flows nicely because you've done a great job on organizing Iris's thoughts and connecting them. Your main character is opinionated and full of sarcasm, which is a good thing for a long story because she'll make your readers anticipate what she will say or how she'll react to certain situations. This is a a great start!

Can't wait to read chapter two.