  This Year's Scholar... Song in head: Gone to Movies - Semisonic Current Mood: Artistic Alan sat in the school's library, flicking a pencil up and down, up and down. There it went; Up. Down. Up. Down. The boredom he was experiencing now rivaled that of watching a freshly painted wall age and become dry, like all the rest.
He sat patiently as he watched the "premier" members of his graduating class walk up to receive their prestigious awards and scholarships. It was the end of Junior Year, and the one common goal for everyone here was college (it was, after all, a college-prep school). He had been nominated for one of these awards, but failed to return his resume... He chuckled as he thought of that one. Relative to all of these people, Alan paled in comparison, he thought. 9 out of every 10 had a 3.9 GPA or above--a feat that was neither one of Alan's goals, nor an asset in his posession.
As yet another award was handed out to some wanna-be valedictorian, he sat and pondered, and thought about his life. So many things had gone wrong for him, ever since day one. He was raised in such a sheltered environment that he didn't have a social life, and, until not 12 months earlier, didn't know what one was. He was a loner, of sorts--the guy who was the generally silent, mysterious person that no one really knew. Yet, at the same time, he wasn't like others--no one perceived him as a "Columbine type"--the kind of guy who was so fucked-up that he would bring a machine gun to school. He whistled as he walked through the hallway for some reason or another; the reasons why, even he could not fathom.
Yet, this happy self was only a front that those at school saw, and it was present nowhere else. As Rick Rick Wolfe was given his award and applause echoed in the domed library, Alan thought more about himself. He had no interest in these people here, and had been forced to come to the event by his retiring Physics teacher. Alan watched as some of the other kids from his class passed their yearbooks to each other to sign. He envied this, in a way. It wasn't foreign to him, but somehow, Junior year had been one of his most socially reserved since 7th grade.
He knew practically nobody, it seemed. This year, he didn't even have the money to buy the yearbook, so no one could sign it even if they wanted. He wondered why he wasn't himself here--what was it about these familiar, 78-year old walls that brought his happy side to the foreground, and sent his dark depression hiding within the depths of his heart? He waffled over many solutions. The most prominent to him was the fact that he has a reputation to uphold. Especially now--reputation was oh, so important.
Alan, towards the end of this year, had developed a sort of crush over this one particular girl--Jane, for sake of conversation. Jane was the kind of girl that every guy in his class had a crush on at one point or another, it seemed. She posessed a certain beauty that rivaled that of a supermodel, it seemed. However, although initially attracted to her for the same reason that everyone else was, it changed over time, and Alan found her to be a pretty cool gal once he had talked to her a couple times. Around Spring Break, he had gotten her phone number, but they never hooked up. He was still hopeful, though, and had a week and a half to go, to continue trying.
He thought for sure that one girl couldn't change his entire aura though--could she? "The Northwestern University Book Award is given to students who demonstrate exemplary academic achievement, while also displaying a keen mastery of foreign language...." The guest professor droned at the microphone. Alan cracked a joke at the guy who won, and the people at his table laughed, but Alan was still deep-entrenched in thought. After the ceremony, it was lunch time, and Alan caught up with one of his friends Mark, with whom he shared a locker, and ate lunch every day. He and Mark talked about lots of things--mostly random in nature. Guy stuff, predominantly--college basketball, the new track that the school was building next year, the girls walking across the lunchroom, etc... it was a typical conversation, of sorts.
Alan wasn't totally there, though--he was still stuck on himself--on why he never made it with this one chick, and why he was so poor, and how his family was so dysfunctional, and how he didn't go to Prom, and how he still needed to ask out Jane, or else he would never live with the curiosity of whether or not he would have gotten a "Yes" out of her. Although the end of the year was exciting, it was also depressing Alan. All that he thought was so dear for so long, simply seemed to be gone within six months... his life was an ever-changing sphere of irrationality, filled with sorrow and glee, happiness and depression, love and hate, regret and ambition. He remembered something that was said by a girl he used to like "I am just one big contradiction... The theme about me is that I have no theme. " As his life began shifting again, as it seemed to do every 6-7 months, Alan wondered what new experiences would roll around this time--which ones he would regret leaving behind, and which ones he would welcome with open arms.
For him, it seemed, it was all in the luck of the cards. 
