Lima, Ohio. A modest city with... well, nothing to do. But Lima is also the home of William McKinley High, known for its famous Cheerios cheerleading team, several sports teams worth no note beyond said cheerleaders (they never win, it's really pretty sad), students who want to get the heck out of this city, just as many kids who have no aspirations to ever go anywhere, and more school programs aside from that than you can shake a stick at.
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Member No.: 136
Joined: 5-July 10
TINA MARIE COHEN-CHANG
tttinaC • tttinaC@yahoo.com • (419) 789-2304
I'm gonna break down these walls I built around myself.
I wanna fall so in love with you, and no one else
could ever mean half as much to me as you do now.
Together we'll move on, just don't turn around.
Let the walls break down.
I used to p-push people away. J-j-just, whenever I t-talked to someone, it felt like they were j-judging me. I hated it. So, my logic was, if I j-just avoided p-people, I wouldn't have to d-deal with it. They labeled me the freaky ch-chick with the stutter and left me alone. Which was g-good, I guess. B-but then, I met someone that m-made me want to stop pushing everyone away and start p-p-putting myself out into the world. And I signed up for gl-glee and made even more friends. This song's about j-just that: the one thing or person that c-can make you break down the walls and step outside your c-comfort zone and out into the sun.
The first day of high school. If this is what the rest of my four years here is going to be like, I'm not very excited for the future. I think I'll just avoid eye contact whenever possible and I'll do okay. I don't wanna end up like one of those people I saw earlier getting slushies dumped all over them. Who the hell does that, anyways? We're all teenagers here, we're not in preschool. But whatever. I just need this day to be over with. Of course, it's only half begun....or half over, as if the slight bit of optimism helps me feel any better at all. It really doesn't. Because it's lunch time. And lunch pretty much determines your social status. Not that I want or need social status. I just don't want to be stuck eating in the bathroom like they do on those high school movies. That's so gross. You're eating your food where people take a shit. I'd rather go hungry.
Oh, this is great. Absolutely no empty tables. Fan-flippin-tastic. Now what? I guess I'll just pick the table with the least amount of people at it and hope they don't notice me. Over there's a table with just some guy sitting there. Perfect. I just hope he's not saving all the other seats for his friends and I'm going to look like a total loser. Uggh. I might as well ask him.
"Is a-anyone sitting here?"
God, I hate this stupid stutter. It's so annoying. It's become a habit now. I mean, I'd almost believe it's real. Almost.
The kid looks up for a brief moment. He's actually kinda cute, in a geeky sort of way. "What? Uh....no."
"Oh. Well, d-d-do you mind if I sit here then?"
He shakes his head. "No. It's fine. Go ahead."
I sit down at the opposite side of the table. He doesn't say anything else to me. Which is good, I really want to avoid socialization all together. I'm perfectly happy sitting here eating my peanut butter sandwich and keeping to myself.
Then, he breaks the silence. "I'm Artie. Artie Abrams."
It takes a lot of strength to withhold the urge to glare at him as I answer "I'm T-t-tina. T-Tina Cohen-Chang."
"Well, T-tina, are you a freshman too?"
This time, I really do glare at him. "There's only one T in my n-name, F.Y.I. And y-yes, I am."
"Oh.... I'm sorry. I wasn't like trying to make fun of you or anything. I mean.... I know what that's like."
Hmm, a little bit personal for someone you just met, buddy. I don't need your empathy. But I'll be nice for now, it's not like I haven't been called worse. I am kinda curious, though. He doesn't seem like he'd be that big of a target for people to tease him. Sure, he dresses a little bit different, but whatever. "W-what do you m-mean?"
"Well, with my chair and all. People just don't get it."
And that's when I notice that Artie's sitting in a wheelchair. I hadn't seen it because it had been hidden behind the table. "Oh."
I need to say something. "Well, you know, what p-people think about you isn't really i-important. You c-c-can't let it g-get you. If you're always p-paying attention to what others want you t-to be, you c-an't be what you want to b-be. If that helps at all. I'm sorry, I'm n-not really good with advice t-type stuff."
"No, no, I like that, actually. Thanks."
"No p-problem. So, where is your n-next stop in this hellhole?"
He actually laughs. "I got math with some lady named Mrs. Bell."
"R-really? That's my n-next class too." Weird. But for some reason... I'm kinda happy that this won't be the last time I see him. He seems like a nice guy. he seems different. Maybe....just maybe, we could actually be friends.