Post by Wildstar on Feb 7, 2011 6:25:12 GMT -6
Elliot wiped sweat from his brow as he rapidly solved and scribbled a mathematic equation down on the blackboard. He stuck his tongue out and furrowed his eyebrows for a moment to think out the next step. Elliot nervously glanced to the side if himself; Janice Summer was not as far into the equation as him, but quickly catching up. He had too much pride to let her win. Elliot looked back at his own portion of the board, and the answer came to him. He finished solving the problem and enthusiastically yelled he was done.
“Well done, Mr. Smith,” Professor Adams commented. “Look like you’ve beaten one of your classmates again.”
Janice angrily threw her piece of chalk down and glared at Elliot.
“For the record,” Janice said, “I wasn’t too far behind Elliot.”
“Well too bad ‘too far’ just isn’t close enough!” Elliot sneered.
Janice rolled her eyes and Professor quietly chuckled. Janice shot the professor a look of surprise that he laughed, leaving them in an awkward moment of silence.
“That was fun,” Elliot broke the silence. “We should really do it again sometime, Janice. But other duties call me, and I must be off. Salutations!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she replied. “I’ll get you back when you least expect it!”
Elliot flung his messenger bag filled wil text books and notebooks over his shoulder, ran out of the classroom and down the hallway until he reached the door. He went outside and hopped onto his Segway that his parents had bought him the previous year for Christmas instead of a moped or a car.
He sped on by, the wind ruffling his short, chocolate brown hair. His large, black thick-rimmed glasses not only served as a vision aid and a fashion statement, but as a shield for his eyes; little pebbled were flying up and hitting him as he rode by.
Finally, he reached his dormitory where he parked his Segway. He jumped off and ran inside and up the stairs and went into his room.
“Perfect,” he mused. “The roommate’s not here…time to have some fun!”
He whipped his bag down onto the unusually tidy (for a dorm room) floor and walked over to his little wooden desk. He booted up his laptop, and turned on the large speakers that he had connected to it. He then pulled out a microphone and plugged it into his laptop and opened up a music making program he had installed on there.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” he exclaimed.
Elliot scrambled over to his narrow birch drawer and riffled through his argyle sweater vests until he found an oversized, white wifebeater and a pair of jeans. He changed out of his khaki pants and button-down shirt and put his new outfit on. To complete his look, he threw on the fake gold medallion he had hidden at the bottom of the drawer. Then, he stepped in front of the mirror.
“Aw, yeah,” he said in a low voice. “Gangsta!”
He smiled and pointed two finger guns at himself in the mirror, then walked back over to his musical apparatus. Elliot opened up a file he had been previously working on, and let it play. It was a remix of songs and sound bites from one of the Star Wars movies. It sounded so different though; it had a techno beat that made Elliot tap his feet and nod his head. He pressed the record button, and began his rap.
“Yo, my name is Dr. Math, and you know I’m all that. I got an A+ in Calc, and I bust beats like a whack!” he sang.
Elliot stopped the recording and fanned himself. It was a hot Summer day, and in his dorm, it felt like one million degrees. He leaned over to open up his window to let some fresh, cooler air in. He didn’t want the heat to hinder his performance.
“Now,” he said. “Where was I?”
He pressed the record button again, and left off from where he was.
“Today I bear Janice, and she was awful…jal-ous…” he started. “Oh brother, I need to write instead of trying to free rap.”
He opened up a writing program on his laptop, and started jotting down some lyrics. When he finished he first verse and chorus, he decided it would be a good idea to use headphones so he could hear his music while he rapped to it. That way, his rapping would be on beat and be in rhythm with the song.
“Trial numero dos,” he said.
Elliot pressed the record button, and went at it.
“Yo all the ladies so in love, cuz I’m so fly. I got my calculator on, and I’m gonna reach the sky!” he sang.
All of a sudden, he heard someone outside the window laughing. Elliot suddenly felt like he was in nothing more than his boxers, exposed to the world. He was so excited to work on his music that he was oblivious to the fact that anyone and everyone could see into his window and hear him rap. He didn’t want people to know about this…this was his special thing.
“Great song, P Diddy!” called a person from out the window as she slowly and sarcastically clapped.
Afraid to look, Elliot peered out the window, only to find Janice standing down below, holding a video camera in her hand.
“Don’t worry,” she chimed. “It’s off now, but I got all of that lovely performance on tape, and you can bet that it’s going on YouTube!”
“No!” Elliot cried. “Please, Janice! I’ll give you anything you want! Just don’t post that video…anywhere! Just delete it! Please!”
“You want me to delete it?” she asked. “Okay, I’ll delete it. If you promise to get nothing higher than a B+ on the next Calc test.”
“I can’t promise that…I always get As!” he whined.
“Then sorry, YouTube calls me,” she snickered, starting to walk away.
“Wait!” Elliot called. “I’ll…I’ll do it! Just please delete that video!”
“Fine, I’ll delete it after you show be that you got less than an A- on your next test,” she agreed. “But for now, it stays saved.”
Elliot didn’t feel like arguing, so he slammed his window shut and pulled down the blinds. He jumped onto his bed and lied there, daydreaming about becoming a rapstar.
“Well done, Mr. Smith,” Professor Adams commented. “Look like you’ve beaten one of your classmates again.”
Janice angrily threw her piece of chalk down and glared at Elliot.
“For the record,” Janice said, “I wasn’t too far behind Elliot.”
“Well too bad ‘too far’ just isn’t close enough!” Elliot sneered.
Janice rolled her eyes and Professor quietly chuckled. Janice shot the professor a look of surprise that he laughed, leaving them in an awkward moment of silence.
“That was fun,” Elliot broke the silence. “We should really do it again sometime, Janice. But other duties call me, and I must be off. Salutations!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she replied. “I’ll get you back when you least expect it!”
Elliot flung his messenger bag filled wil text books and notebooks over his shoulder, ran out of the classroom and down the hallway until he reached the door. He went outside and hopped onto his Segway that his parents had bought him the previous year for Christmas instead of a moped or a car.
He sped on by, the wind ruffling his short, chocolate brown hair. His large, black thick-rimmed glasses not only served as a vision aid and a fashion statement, but as a shield for his eyes; little pebbled were flying up and hitting him as he rode by.
Finally, he reached his dormitory where he parked his Segway. He jumped off and ran inside and up the stairs and went into his room.
“Perfect,” he mused. “The roommate’s not here…time to have some fun!”
He whipped his bag down onto the unusually tidy (for a dorm room) floor and walked over to his little wooden desk. He booted up his laptop, and turned on the large speakers that he had connected to it. He then pulled out a microphone and plugged it into his laptop and opened up a music making program he had installed on there.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” he exclaimed.
Elliot scrambled over to his narrow birch drawer and riffled through his argyle sweater vests until he found an oversized, white wifebeater and a pair of jeans. He changed out of his khaki pants and button-down shirt and put his new outfit on. To complete his look, he threw on the fake gold medallion he had hidden at the bottom of the drawer. Then, he stepped in front of the mirror.
“Aw, yeah,” he said in a low voice. “Gangsta!”
He smiled and pointed two finger guns at himself in the mirror, then walked back over to his musical apparatus. Elliot opened up a file he had been previously working on, and let it play. It was a remix of songs and sound bites from one of the Star Wars movies. It sounded so different though; it had a techno beat that made Elliot tap his feet and nod his head. He pressed the record button, and began his rap.
“Yo, my name is Dr. Math, and you know I’m all that. I got an A+ in Calc, and I bust beats like a whack!” he sang.
Elliot stopped the recording and fanned himself. It was a hot Summer day, and in his dorm, it felt like one million degrees. He leaned over to open up his window to let some fresh, cooler air in. He didn’t want the heat to hinder his performance.
“Now,” he said. “Where was I?”
He pressed the record button again, and left off from where he was.
“Today I bear Janice, and she was awful…jal-ous…” he started. “Oh brother, I need to write instead of trying to free rap.”
He opened up a writing program on his laptop, and started jotting down some lyrics. When he finished he first verse and chorus, he decided it would be a good idea to use headphones so he could hear his music while he rapped to it. That way, his rapping would be on beat and be in rhythm with the song.
“Trial numero dos,” he said.
Elliot pressed the record button, and went at it.
“Yo all the ladies so in love, cuz I’m so fly. I got my calculator on, and I’m gonna reach the sky!” he sang.
All of a sudden, he heard someone outside the window laughing. Elliot suddenly felt like he was in nothing more than his boxers, exposed to the world. He was so excited to work on his music that he was oblivious to the fact that anyone and everyone could see into his window and hear him rap. He didn’t want people to know about this…this was his special thing.
“Great song, P Diddy!” called a person from out the window as she slowly and sarcastically clapped.
Afraid to look, Elliot peered out the window, only to find Janice standing down below, holding a video camera in her hand.
“Don’t worry,” she chimed. “It’s off now, but I got all of that lovely performance on tape, and you can bet that it’s going on YouTube!”
“No!” Elliot cried. “Please, Janice! I’ll give you anything you want! Just don’t post that video…anywhere! Just delete it! Please!”
“You want me to delete it?” she asked. “Okay, I’ll delete it. If you promise to get nothing higher than a B+ on the next Calc test.”
“I can’t promise that…I always get As!” he whined.
“Then sorry, YouTube calls me,” she snickered, starting to walk away.
“Wait!” Elliot called. “I’ll…I’ll do it! Just please delete that video!”
“Fine, I’ll delete it after you show be that you got less than an A- on your next test,” she agreed. “But for now, it stays saved.”
Elliot didn’t feel like arguing, so he slammed his window shut and pulled down the blinds. He jumped onto his bed and lied there, daydreaming about becoming a rapstar.