Surfacing Signs of Success Must Be Smothered and Stamped Out Speedily
I like Mrs. Butke's Spanish class, and I am surprised. It's my only class I've liked in high school so far. I like this learning-a-new-language stuff. It’s kind of cool, I don’t know. It’s like a secret code or whatever, and only you and a few others can decode it. But only if they also know that secret code. Screw everybody else who doesn't know it. This is kind of cool.
There’s a girl in my Spanish class. She’s a 10th grader. She has dark brown everything. I love dark brown. She said I have a nice butt. Can’t believe a sophomore girl would say that. I’m sitting here at the dining room table doing my Spanish homework for tomorrow. Maybe I'll raise my hand tomorrow. I might. I could. That’s how come I’m actually doing it. I actually LIKE doing it—it's WEIRD. And I’m THINKING about liking it, too. Like, I'm thinking about liking it even more maybe, I don’t know. Practicing my pronunciation. I can’t do the two r’s right yet. The "doble-ere." I can’t do it. I can do it once in awhile, but not always. My tongue screws up. My tongue muscles won't go that way yet. But I can do the one r that sounds like a d. Then there’s the b sound that sounds like a v, but only a little bit like a v. And there's the j that’s silent. And the h, I don't know what the heck it does, really.
I kind of like this. I don't know.
Mom wants to know, what am I doing?
Tell her it’s my homework, it’s for Spanish I.
She says, Aw, c’mon.
She says, why do I want to learn that BEANER language for?
Feel my mind just go off the tracks. I’m a train that just went off a bridge and off the tracks and the thing I thought I had in my brain, it died. It’s nothing.
Why’m I staring at this?
I could be out playing basketball.