Trash of the Gods. chapter 7. Senior Year

Senior year, that was when it all came to a head. Senior year, the year of Tammy’s legendary parties, the year we all graduated, the year Robert and I joined the school newspaper, Senior year.
I was seeing more of Robert, he had seemed almost like his old self, smart, mindful, and brilliant, but he still wasn’t present.
When we started hanging out again, he started telling me the whole story, slowly giving me the details of what had been going on. 
Nobody even talked about andy any more.
I wasn’t happy with Robert, to say the least, but i took his word for it that he was clean and I believed him. I was excited to be on the school newspaper, in a place where i could write and be published consistently, then that became the year I learned journalism is bullshit because editors will make you change everything you write to make it tame for their vapid cowardly demographics. The good part of the class was there was plenty of time for “research” which consisted mostly of my friends and I talking shit in between articles.
Tammy was on newspaper, she was there house photographer. Rose joined that year to. Our editor in chief was a friend of ours, a girl who was obsessed with ayn rand, Ally, she was a kind soul, but if she was pissed you didn’t want to receive her wrath. I’ve seen the buffest of football players shit themselves when she gave them her evil eye. I didn’t always agree with her, but I was glad she was the person we had to answer to. She wasn’t afraid to push the papers boundaries, it was our teacher who kept things cowardly.
All I’m going to say about our teacher was that he was a fairly young man, but he always seemed mad at something. He seemed to like the newspaper class though, or at least he tolerated us. He always just sat at his desk, talking to us with his arms clenched across his chest.
Another girl was in the class, Jan, I had a crush on her to. Jan was lead editor of the entertainment section of the school paper.
  I did everything I could to impress them, I wanted the whole school to be in awe of my writing.
Half of my stories would be cut from the paper at the last minute, but never when I wrote for Jan’s section.
And everyone always seemed to like Robert’s material more.
The best part of the class though was the fact we had these special id badges, we could 

basically wonder around the entire school unsupervised for a whole period, so me and a few of the other reporters would often cut class and go hot box Rose’s car.  
Rose, I was always jealous of her, she had better stories than me, she was a better writer than me, and so was Robert. People liked my work but were never in awe of my stories the way I had wanted, but always with Rose’s or Robert’s.

Another editor, Luann, she and I became fast friends. She had the Feature section and I always got good stories from her, she would cut them sometimes but she always gave me great pieces to write on. She would also smoke with me, Robert, Rose, Tammy and Ally.
Senior year. The year I decided to become a writer.
Senior year, the year of Tammy’s party.

Published by James J Jackson

I'm a poet from California.

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