>>4466193Read this:
"Justin, what did you think of that last group, the one from Norman?"
"Their shirts suck."
The girl with the tidy mass of little braids running amok over her scalp wrinkled her round nose. "God, will you be serious for once in your friggin' life?"
"Jilly, I am always serious." Maybe it was a bad moment in choosing to cross one eye and roll the other in a circle, my mouth twisted into something silly and probably annoying; yeah right, I'm never serious.
"Oh my god, I give up! You can walk to the score boards by yourself, you burke."
I relaxed my face with a laugh, lightly tugging on her retreating braids; "Hey, Jilly, c'mon...I'm only messin' with ya!"
Flicking a glare over her shoulder at me, she spouted off, "That's what I'm talking about. Catch ya later."
Hmph. Some people just don't get a good joke. I mean...the Norman choir were wearing maroon shirts with the school logo printed on the left breast. L-ame. Although, our choir outfits aren't that great either. They're this red-black iridescent dress-shirt thing, and we are all required to wear black slacks and shoes to complete the picture; the number of tomboys in our choir ensured that the girls weren't stuck wearing skirts this year. I'm a tenor, which means I'm in the third row, middle section, so what I wear isn't really as important as the sopranos and altos of the front rows. Still; we have to all wear the same thing so that we can appear to be uniformly retarded.
Walking towards the courtyard that exists in a square right smack in the middle of the school, I was just glad that I at least know my way around; I go to school in this building, after all. The local Solo and Ensemble is being held at my school this year, which pretty much sucks in that we had to be here at five-thirty in the morning, because the first group was scheduled to go at just after seven. Yaysville.
