Teenage Dreams: Wallflower
It was loud inside that place. My best friend’s date had ingeniously decided to have their first date in a club – and I was being sarcastic. Bringing a date to a club: that would be like one step to getting turned down – or worse, be labeled as a terrible date. How could they talk here? If I were a guy, I wouldn’t take a girl in a place like this. I would take her on a nice and romantic restaurant, and there we would get to know each other better, there we would talk and laugh and have fun… but I was just a girl. All I could do was to accept what my date had planned for us. And I was just that jock’s date’s best friend, so all I could do was to sit and wait and be happy for my best friend.
Good thing we were seated in a private area. The leather couches were comfortable, and the music here wasn’t so loud anymore, and at least we wouldn’t see if anyone from the dance floor passed out or drowned himself with alcohol or did something as stupid. I was wearing my most comfortable attire: my favorite Beatles shirt, a leather jacket, black jeans and boots. I looked like someone from a kick ass movie where the tough girl fought bad guys and still had perfect hair (although my hair wasn’t really always perfect). But nonetheless, I looked tough. Nobody had messed with me so far. My best friend was sitting next to me, and next to her was her date. She looked so pretty in her black dress, and you could see that she was very happy. She didn’t care if the club was not the perfect first date-venue for her, nor did she care if her dress was too proper for a place like this; she looked like she was having the time of her life. While I was sipping on my mock tail (I wouldn’t dare take something with alcohol), I was thinking if she was already in love with him. Maybe she was still getting there. Maybe she already got there.
And sitting to my right was her cousin. He hadn’t said anything since we got here. I didn’t know if I should start the conversation, but I had nothing to say. I swore this double date wasn’t going to work. How could this be considered as a date if both of us weren’t saying anything? I kept on sipping on my drink and nibbling my straw. (
Shake it for me til your back break, I wanna see you make your back break baby, Your back break baby) Maybe I should say something already. This is very awkward, I thought.
“Don’t you think this place is like hell on earth?” He finally said, and I was surprised that he sounded serious.
Whoa. He was smart, really smart. “I definitely think so. You hate clubs and bars, too?” I glanced on his way, but he was already staring at me. I abruptly looked away and continued drinking my mock tail.
He laughed. “You’ve been drinking a lot. More or less you’d get drowned. Are you okay? You looked annoyed.”
“I won’t get drowned. I’m okay. I just hate this place. And I’m not really annoyed.”
“I hate this place, too. If I have a date, I would take her somewhere quiet, not like this. That way, we can get to know each other better. How will you talk to your date this way? It’s chaotic in here.” He said, his voice getting louder. “And oh, the smoke!” He coughed. I quickly looked at him. Maybe he had asthma? He should get out of here. Maybe he noticed that I was worried because he said, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
That’s good, I thought. I suddenly found it ridiculous that we had the same perfect date scenario in our minds. “I agree, without doubt. This is a bad first date. But I need to be here because of my best friend. Whatever makes her happy, I’d accept it. I really hope that she’s having fun right now, and it looks like that’s the case.” I took a good look on my best friend and her date. I found myself smiling.
“She’s lucky to have you. You remind me of someone from a novel that I’ve read… You’re like a, umm, what was that again? Oh, you’re like a wallflower.”
What did he say?
Wallpaper? Did I look like wallpaper here? How dare… “I’m sorry?”
“You’re like a wallflower.” He said louder. “Take Your Shirt Off” was playing (and I really hoped nobody was dancing half-naked) and it was earsplitting; I thought I was becoming deaf. Oh, wallflower. Not wallpaper. But what did he mean by that? “
‘You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.’” He explained, and he was still so serious.
I had never heard anyone say that about me, and I never expected that I would hear it first from him. He always took me by surprise. I still found it ridiculous. “From what novel was that?” I asked, hoping that it would make me feel at ease. I started for my drink again, but it was already empty.
“You want more of that?” He was referring to my drink. I said no. “That was from the “Perks of Being a Wallflower.” I had just finished it two days ago.”
“I bet this Beatles shirt that you liked that one. You knew the lines by heart. So you read a lot of novels, eh? Bookworm.” Good job, I was feeling lighter. (
What it is what is gon be, I see you in the crowd and your lookin at me)
He sniggered – the sound was cute. “I want to say that you’re wrong because I find that shirt cool. But yes. I love books. I’m the ‘typical nerd’ remember?”
Of course I remembered that.
That’s not true. They only happen in movies. And I’m the typical nerd, so maybe people would see me in a different way. He had said when we first met. “Yes. You’re the ‘typical nerd’ but the ‘not-that-super-nerd.’” We laughed. “So what genres of novels do you read?”
“Oh, I have a wide range.” And we continued talking about books, music and theater. I learned that he liked several of the musicians that I liked, and I had read some of the books that he had read. I learned that his room was basically full of books and records and Broadway DVDs. He told me all about the things that happened behind the theater curtains. “There is definitely lots of drama,” he said.
We had so much in common, and we got along just fine. We didn’t notice the time passing, or the deafening club music (
Girl you look better with the lights off, better with the lights off, ooh). We both had our own conversation bubbles, and it popped when we realized that it was time to go home.
We shook hands, just like before, when I was dropped in front of my house. And just like before, he held mine tightly for a long time. Thank goodness it was already dark; he didn’t notice my burning face. Okay, this double date wasn’t that bad.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“Take Your Shirt Off” is the first promo single by American recording artist T-Pain for his fourth studio album
RevolveR. It was released on iTunes for purchase on October 9, 2009.
©
“Better with the Lights Off” is a song recorded by American hip hop duo New Boyz, taken from their second studio album,
Too Cool To Care. The song was released as a promotional single on May 3, 2011 via digital download in the United States and will be released as the third single from the album on August 2, 2011. The song features guest contributions from Chris Brown.
©
“The Perks of Being a Wallflower” is an epistolary novel written in the 1990s by American novelist Stephen Chbosky. The novel was published on February 1, 1999 by MTV. The story takes the form of a series of letters to an anonymous friend written by the narrator, a teenager who calls himself Charlie (his real name is never mentioned). The story explores topics such as introversion, teenage sexuality, and the awkward times of adolescence. The book also touches strongly on drug use and Charlie's experiences with this.
©
“You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.” –
The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky (February 1999)
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Teenage Dreams: Wallflower
It was loud inside that place. My best friend’s date had ingeniously decided to have their first date in a club – and I was being sarcastic. Bringing a date to a club: that would be like one step to getting turned down – or worse, be labeled as a terrible date. How could they talk here? If I were a guy, I wouldn’t take a girl in a place like this. I would take her on a nice and romantic restaurant, and there we would get to know each other better, there we would talk and laugh and have fun… but I was just a girl. All I could do was to accept what my date had planned for us. And I was just that jock’s date’s best friend, so all I could do was to sit and wait and be happy for my best friend.
Good thing we were seated in a private area. The leather couches were comfortable, and the music here wasn’t so loud anymore, and at least we wouldn’t see if anyone from the dance floor passed out or drowned himself with alcohol or did something as stupid. I was wearing my most comfortable attire: my favorite Beatles shirt, a leather jacket, black jeans and boots. I looked like someone from a kick ass movie where the tough girl fought bad guys and still had perfect hair (although my hair wasn’t really always perfect). But nonetheless, I looked tough. Nobody had messed with me so far. My best friend was sitting next to me, and next to her was her date. She looked so pretty in her black dress, and you could see that she was very happy. She didn’t care if the club was not the perfect first date-venue for her, nor did she care if her dress was too proper for a place like this; she looked like she was having the time of her life. While I was sipping on my mock tail (I wouldn’t dare take something with alcohol), I was thinking if she was already in love with him. Maybe she was still getting there. Maybe she already got there.
And sitting to my right was her cousin. He hadn’t said anything since we got here. I didn’t know if I should start the conversation, but I had nothing to say. I swore this double date wasn’t going to work. How could this be considered as a date if both of us weren’t saying anything? I kept on sipping on my drink and nibbling my straw. (
Shake it for me til your back break, I wanna see you make your back break baby, Your back break baby) Maybe I should say something already. This is very awkward, I thought.
“Don’t you think this place is like hell on earth?” He finally said, and I was surprised that he sounded serious.
Whoa. He was smart, really smart. “I definitely think so. You hate clubs and bars, too?” I glanced on his way, but he was already staring at me. I abruptly looked away and continued drinking my mock tail.
He laughed. “You’ve been drinking a lot. More or less you’d get drowned. Are you okay? You looked annoyed.”
“I won’t get drowned. I’m okay. I just hate this place. And I’m not really annoyed.”
“I hate this place, too. If I have a date, I would take her somewhere quiet, not like this. That way, we can get to know each other better. How will you talk to your date this way? It’s chaotic in here.” He said, his voice getting louder. “And oh, the smoke!” He coughed. I quickly looked at him. Maybe he had asthma? He should get out of here. Maybe he noticed that I was worried because he said, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
That’s good, I thought. I suddenly found it ridiculous that we had the same perfect date scenario in our minds. “I agree, without doubt. This is a bad first date. But I need to be here because of my best friend. Whatever makes her happy, I’d accept it. I really hope that she’s having fun right now, and it looks like that’s the case.” I took a good look on my best friend and her date. I found myself smiling.
“She’s lucky to have you. You remind me of someone from a novel that I’ve read… You’re like a, umm, what was that again? Oh, you’re like a wallflower.”
What did he say?
Wallpaper? Did I look like wallpaper here? How dare… “I’m sorry?”
“You’re like a wallflower.” He said louder. “Take Your Shirt Off” was playing (and I really hoped nobody was dancing half-naked) and it was earsplitting; I thought I was becoming deaf. Oh, wallflower. Not wallpaper. But what did he mean by that? “
‘You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.’” He explained, and he was still so serious.
I had never heard anyone say that about me, and I never expected that I would hear it first from him. He always took me by surprise. I still found it ridiculous. “From what novel was that?” I asked, hoping that it would make me feel at ease. I started for my drink again, but it was already empty.
“You want more of that?” He was referring to my drink. I said no. “That was from the “Perks of Being a Wallflower.” I had just finished it two days ago.”
“I bet this Beatles shirt that you liked that one. You knew the lines by heart. So you read a lot of novels, eh? Bookworm.” Good job, I was feeling lighter. (
What it is what is gon be, I see you in the crowd and your lookin at me)
He sniggered – the sound was cute. “I want to say that you’re wrong because I find that shirt cool. But yes. I love books. I’m the ‘typical nerd’ remember?”
Of course I remembered that.
That’s not true. They only happen in movies. And I’m the typical nerd, so maybe people would see me in a different way. He had said when we first met. “Yes. You’re the ‘typical nerd’ but the ‘not-that-super-nerd.’” We laughed. “So what genres of novels do you read?”
“Oh, I have a wide range.” And we continued talking about books, music and theater. I learned that he liked several of the musicians that I liked, and I had read some of the books that he had read. I learned that his room was basically full of books and records and Broadway DVDs. He told me all about the things that happened behind the theater curtains. “There is definitely lots of drama,” he said.
We had so much in common, and we got along just fine. We didn’t notice the time passing, or the deafening club music (
Girl you look better with the lights off, better with the lights off, ooh). We both had our own conversation bubbles, and it popped when we realized that it was time to go home.
We shook hands, just like before, when I was dropped in front of my house. And just like before, he held mine tightly for a long time. Thank goodness it was already dark; he didn’t notice my burning face. Okay, this double date wasn’t that bad.
© Christine Faye Ordas
The characters and events portrayed in the story are fictitious and are from pure fantasies. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the [aspiring] author. Excerpts or lines borrowed from novels, songs, or any source will be properly credited.
“Take Your Shirt Off” is the first promo single by American recording artist T-Pain for his fourth studio album
RevolveR. It was released on iTunes for purchase on October 9, 2009.
©
“Better with the Lights Off” is a song recorded by American hip hop duo New Boyz, taken from their second studio album,
Too Cool To Care. The song was released as a promotional single on May 3, 2011 via digital download in the United States and will be released as the third single from the album on August 2, 2011. The song features guest contributions from Chris Brown.
©
“The Perks of Being a Wallflower” is an epistolary novel written in the 1990s by American novelist Stephen Chbosky. The novel was published on February 1, 1999 by MTV. The story takes the form of a series of letters to an anonymous friend written by the narrator, a teenager who calls himself Charlie (his real name is never mentioned). The story explores topics such as introversion, teenage sexuality, and the awkward times of adolescence. The book also touches strongly on drug use and Charlie's experiences with this.
©
“You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.” –
The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky (February 1999)
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
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Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
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