Duck goose dating
I spent the weekend practicing my clarinet, doing stuff around the house that my mom and dad were too lazy to do and made me do instead, talking to my mom some and then catching up on some homework I’d been ignoring. “Matt,” she started, after I’d got comfortable on the couch in her office Saturday morning, “why is your dad hearing from your teachers that you’re not doing much in most of your classes? You got all A’s both years before this, and now you’re slacking off? She knows more about teenage rebellion than I do, has had more experience with it, and is smarter than I am.
Tell me about it.” “Mom, I was going to practice now. That’s not to say I can’t outfox her at times, but I have to try really hard and have my heart in it. They’re bigger than I am, and it’s better all around if I cave.
She didn’t mind they’d left her; she was spending all her time with Rob. Well, now that she’s broken up, they’re sort of gloating about it, rubbing it in, and being even worse.
“Matt, I probably shouldn’t have, but I called you in here today to see if maybe I could talk to you and maybe you could try to be friends with her.
They don’t treat me like I’m one of the smart kids, one of the brown-nosers, any more. This could be part of why you’ve been so upset lately.
It’s like I’m just like everyone else, I’m like one of them, which is what I want. I’ll let everyone get used to me being this way, and then maybe bring my grades up just a little at the end of the year.” Silence. It meant she was thinking, and that often resulted in bad things. And then, “Matt, you’re telling me you’re trying to be someone you’re not. It never works, trying to be someone you’re not, trying to hide who you really are.” “I’m tired of not being liked at a school. Look, I know I can’t control your friends and the way you act at school or much of anything else. At least I wouldn’t have to pull out my dictionary of musical terms today.
I was embarrassed, calling you in, talking about this. For both me and Becky.” He stood up and stuck out his hand. She was eating by herself, and having done that a lot myself, I knew how embarrassing it was, how it looked to other kids. We talked about school, about band, about kids we both knew. When I left, a couple hours later, I rode home in the best mood I’d been in for ages.
You’re just delaying the inevitable.” “The classes are harder, that’s all. Turning it in on time.” “Of course.” “Then why did your English and History teachers both tell your dad you weren’t? It was easier for me to give in without a battle because I’d done it so often before. Pavlov wrote about; it might have been rabid froth. She’s a really nice girl, but she got a boyfriend last year, and like some girls do, she fell for him really hard.
But I want to know what you’re thinking, falling behind like this. You don’t have to worry about me trying to get with her at all or make a pass at her or anything like that.
Instead of being the kid the other guys ask for the homework so they can copy it right before class, now I don’t have it done. I wondered if maybe this was why he’d called me in.
They don’t ask me for it any more, they’ve learned I didn’t do it either.
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I’m hanging with some kids that don’t do much, and I like it. I actually had fun, playing glockenspiel and marching with everyone else.” “I’m glad, Matt. That was part of the fun, not having to do anything but just act like all the other kids. If he was looking at me when we were talking, he could have seen something else.