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Snapshot of the Life of a Dork	By : Ibonekoen Category: 1 through F > Faculty, The Views: 5390 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Faculty, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: The only characters we lay claim to are Morgana Marsterdam and her mother and Delilah�s cheerleader posse (but only if I really have to). All the rest belong to Robert Rodriguez and the rest of the crew responsible for The Faculty.

There is a poster that accompanies the story. It can be found at www.geocities.com/ibonekoen/Snapshotposter.htm.

Snapshot of the Life of a Dork

By Ibonekoen and Redkitty

Greetings and salutations. My name is Morgana Marsterdam and I�m a 17 year old senior at Herrington High School in Ohio. There is no doubt in my mind that you�re familiar with the alien invasion that almost took place here a month ago.

And before you ask me to recount my version of what happened, let me just say that I wasn�t here. I was in Liechtenstein. My genius parents decided to take a month long tour of Europe.

At first, I was cool with that. I envisioned a week in Italy, maybe two in France, a side trip to Ireland. Unfortunately that was NOT the case. My father decided we needed to visit the countries everyone else avoided, the less popular ones.

Believe me, they�re less popular for a reason.

But I digress. While I was touring the world�s most boring locale, my friend Casey Connor was saving the world from certain death and destruction.

Yep, that�s right. Casey Connor. The geeky boy with the Napoleonic complex and big blue eyes. Oh yeah, and the most adorable gap in his front teeth.

I have a confession to make. I�ve been in love with Casey since the third grade. I just thought he was so adorable. I told my mom I was going to grow up to be his wife. Which bringsto mto my real problem.

When I got back from my European vacation, Casey had not only saved the world, but he�d also hooked up with Delilah Profitt.

Delilah Profitt. The mosinouinous bitch at Herrington High. She�s the head cheerleader and the editor of the school newspaper. Self-proclaimed �cool� girl of the school. God, I would claw her eyes out if given half a chance. Especially when I see her clinging to Casey.

And you know what pisses me off the most about Ms. Perfect and Casey�s relationship? I know she�s only with him because he�s the media�s golden boy. All eyes are on him. He�s constantly being interviewed and having his picture taken. It gives Her Royal Bitchiness the opportunity to play to the cameras.

It pisses me off because I know that eventually the media is going to get tired of Casey and move onto something else and Delilah will discard him like day-old pasta.

And I know that�ll kill him. Because, much to my chagrin, he�s been in love with Delilah since third grade.

My best friendudo udo brother Zeke Tyler keeps urging me to tell Casey how I feel.

�What�s the point?� I ask. �He�s all gooey eyes over Ms. Perfect.�

�Because he�s crushed on her forever and she�s finally paid him some attention.� Zeke points out.

We�re in his basement. I�m sitting on the couch, he�s standing at his lab counter, mixing up his latest batch of scat. Yes, my adopted brother is a drug dealer. So what? It�s just crushed up caffeine pills.

�And that is exactly my point, Zeke.� I tell him. �Why should he care that I love him? He�s got the woman of his dreams.�

�More like nightmares.� Zeke mutters. He glances at me. �In the back of his mind, Casey knows�s g�s going to lose interest. He�s just trying to enjoy it for as long as it lasts.�

I raise an eyebrow. �And you know that how?�

Zeke grins, shrugging slightly. �We bonded over the whole alien invasion thing.�

Both my eyebrows lift. He makes a face and throws an empty caffeine pill box at me.

�Not like that. God, get your mind out of the gutter.� he says.

I giggle. �Sorry.�

�I really think you ought to tell him.� Zeke says.

�C�mon, Zeke. . .� I mutter, slumping down lower on the couch.

�No, Morgaine, I mean it.� he said firmly. �Talk to Casey. Just talk to him.�

I smile slightly. �You know, you�re the only person that calls me Morgaine.�

Zeke shrugs. �I�m a fan of Mists of Avalon. Nice try at changing the subject.�

I sigh, rolling my eyes. �Okay, so why are you so insistent that I talk to Casey?�

�Because if you do, you�ll see how unhappy he really is.� Zeke says.

I raise my eyebrows. �Yeah?�

�Yep.� Zeke says. �Talk to him. Watch his eyes. You�ll see what I mean.�

******

It�s Monday morning and I am NOT in a good mood. I�ve got a huge zit on my nose, my alarm didn�t go off so I woke up late and missed the bus, plus it started to rain as I was walking to school. So now I�m completely soaked, my hair�s a mess and I don�t have any dry clothes.

�Wow, Morgana, starting a new trend?�

I freeze, halfway to my locker. Oh god. Oh fuck. I recognize the voice. It would have to be her, wouldn�t it? The heinous bitch. Figures I�d see her first thing in the morning on my first day back to school after my vacation.

I turn around slowly, plastering a sweet, fake smile on my face. Sure enough, there�s Casey and Delilah. She�s clinging to his arm and he looks. . .uncomfortable.

�Delilah, hello.� I say.

�So is this a European thing?� Delilah says, looking me over disdainfully. �The �drowned rat� look?�

Yeah, I�m dripping a big puddle in the hallway. She, of course, looks perfect in her short dress.

�Knock it off, Delilah.� Casey says softly. �It�s raining outside.�

Delilah snorts. �That�s what they make umbrellas for, Casey.�

I smile sweetly.elilelilah, has anyone ever told you that you�ve got the personality of an orc?�

Delilah glares at me and then turns her glare to Casey, who�s snickering. I grin at him and feel my stomach flutter as he smiles in return.

Delilah walks off in a huff, leaving me and Casey standing in the hallway. We stare at each other awkwardly and then I turn to my locker.

�So. . .how was your trip?� he asks.

I shrug as I unlock my locker. �Okay, I guess.�

�We missed you.� he says. He hesitates a moment before softly adding, �I missed you.�

I�m in the middle of pulling books out of my locker as he says this and I end up dropping them as I stare at him in surprise. �Really?�

�Really.�

He bends down, picks up my fallen books and then hands them to me, smiling shyly. I feel a tingle race through me as our fingers brush.

The bell rings, startling us.

�Um. . .I should. . .� he says, motioning halfheartedly over his shoulder.

�Oh yeah, me too.� I say, nodding.

�I�ll. . .see latelater.� he says. He smiles one last time and then walks away.

�Yeah. Bye.� I say.

I watch him walk away, wondering if I�m reading too much into his comment about missing me. Then the tardy bell rings and I curse as I race to my History class.

******

It�s lunchtime and I�m seated at a concrete picnic table on the quad. I�ve got a sketchbook open in front of me and I�m halfheartedly eating a turkey sandwich.

�Hey Morgana.� I hear a familiar slightly rough, slightly bored sounding voice say.

I glance up and blink. Whoa, is that Stokely Mitchell wearing a light purple cardigan, a white lace camisole and blue jeans? I blink again. Yep, it sure is.

�Stokely, hey.� I say. �How�s it going?�

What was that Zeke told me about her. . .oh yeah. . .

�So what�s this I hear about you and Stan hooking up?� I ask as she sits down across from me.

Stokely smiles -- the first real smile I�ve seen on her face since, like, ever -- and nods. �Yeah, we�re dating.� she says. �Hooked up after the whole alien disaster. He quit the football team. Decided he wanted to devote more time to academic studies.�

�Wow.� I say. �Stan quits the football teams, Zeke joins, you�re wearing colors and smiles, Casey is dating the heinous bitch and getting his picture on the cover of People and Time magazines. Is there anything ELSE that changed that I�m not aware of yet?�

�Well, Zeke�s fucking Miss Burke.� Stokely says, snagging my sandwich and taking a bitebr> br>

I roll my eyes. �Please. He�s already bragged about that.� I say.

Stokely pulls my sketchbook over to her, turning it around so she can see what I�ve drawn. �Hey, nice drawing. Looks just like Casey.�

I snatch the book back, blushing as I slam the cover closed.

�Oh please, Morgana, don�t get embarrassed.� Stokely says. �It�s not like you haven�t been drawing pictures of Casey since we were in fourth grade or anything. Besides we all know you�ve had a crush on him forever.�

�Yeah, everybody but him.� I mutter.

I glance up and immediately regret it as I see Delilah and Casey walking past; of course she�s hanging off his arm. She sees me, smirks and stops, pulling Casey in for a kiss.

�Ugh.� I say, making a face and averting my eyes. I so did not need to see that.

�Poor Casey.� Stokely says.

I look up to see that she�s watching them. �Yeah, I�d hate to be sucking face with that bitch too.�

�He�s so unhappy.� Stokely says, glancing at me.

I roll my eyes. �Not you too.� I reluctantly reopen my sketchbook and pick up my pencil.

�What?� Stokely says, finishing off the rest of my sandwich. �Have you even talked to him since you got back?�

�Outside of �hello, how are you?� No.� I say. �He seems to have developed some kind of nasty growth. He really should have that looked at by a doctor.�

Stokely laughs. �Yeah, probably.� she says. �Seriously, Morgana, just look into his eyes. They�re not as vibrant as they used to be. She�s killing his spirit.�

�Yeah, well, he chose to be with her, now didn�t he?� I snap as I attempt to finish my drawing.

�Only because he didn�t think you liked him as anything but a friend.� Stokely says.

I stop, lay my pencil down and glance at her. �What�s that supposed to mean?�

Stokely shrugs, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her backpack. �Just that Casey sees himself as a geek and he didn�t think a cool girl like you would think him boyfriend material.�

�Wait, wait, he TOLD you this?� I say in disbelief.

�Yeah.� Stokely says.

�Oh god, Stokes!� I hiss. �When?!�

Stokely shrugs again as she shakes a cigarette from the pack and inserts it in her mouth. �Junior high.� she says, lighting up the cigarette.

It�s all I can do not to choke her. �Junior high?� I repeat. �Why didn�t you tell me before?�

Stokely takes a drag of her cigarette, then blows the smoke to the side, away from me. �You never asked.�r>
r>

It is really taking all of my willpower not to choke her.

�God, Stokes, what else have you neglected to mention to me?� I mutter.

�Well, if you would�ve just told him that you like him, I wouldn�t have had to tell you that, now would I?� Stokely says.

�God, Stokes.� I groan, letting my head drop forward onto my book. �You know why I didn�t.�

�Yeah, because you were chicken shit.� Stokely says. �Dude, Morgana, it could be you kissing Casey anytime you like, instead of that douche Delilah.�

�I was chicken shit because he was so fucking in love with her mut mutter. �And still is.�

�No he�s not.� Stokely insists.

�Then why is he with her?� I snap. Then a horrifying thought comes to me and I make an equally horrified face.

Stokely blinks, staring at me like I�m insane or something. �What?� she asks.

�Oh. . .my. . .god, I hope he�s not getting laid.� I whisper.

Stokely now looks horrified. She also looks like she�s going to hurl. �Oh, thank you very much, Morgana.� she says. �That was NOT a mental image I needed.�

�And you think I needed or wanted it?!� I shriek. �Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!�

�Do I even want to know?� Stan Rosado asks as he sits down beside Stokely.

She smiles brightly and leans over to kiss his cheek.

�No, trust me, you don�t.� I say, trying not to cringe. God, I want a boyfriend. I� I�d prefer it to be Casey. . .

�So how was Europe?� Stan asks as he puts his arm around Stokely.

�God, don�t ask.� I say, rolling my eyes. �We didn�t even go to any cool countries. France, Germany, Italy, forget it. We went to Liechtenstein and Denmark. Belgium was kinda cool.�

�Oh, that reminds me.� I say as I begin digging through my backpack. I draw out a box of Godiva chocolates and hand it to Stokely.

�Ooooh, nice.� Stokely says, grng. ng.

�Thought you might appreciate that.� I say, grinning. �That was the best part of Belgium. Oh my god, they have the most awesome food.�

�Casey missed you.� Stan says matter-of-factly. �He was depressed while you were gone.�

�Yeah, I bet.� I say bitterly, rolling my eyes again. �I�m sure Delilah cheered him right up.�

�C�mon, Morgana-� Stan starts to say.

�No!� I snap, cutting him off. �Stop it, you guys. Just stop it. Stop telling me that Casey missed me and that Casey�s secretly in love with me and that Casey doesn�t think he�s worthy of me. Until I hear those words from his mouth, I�m not going to believe them.�

Angrily I grab my sketchbook, History book and my notebook and then stand up from the table. I turn around to stalk off. . .and end up smacking into Casey. My stuff falls to the ground and, of course, the sketchbook falls open to the unfinished drawing of him.

�Oh, hey, I�m sorry.� he says. He bends down to start picking up my stuff.

�No, it�s okay, I�ve got it.� I say hurriedly, crouching down beside him. I frantically try to grab my sketchbook before he sees it and we both end up bumping heads as we reach for it at the same time.

�Ow.� I say, falling back onto my butt.

�You okay?� he says, blushing as he rubs his forehead.

�I think. . .so. . .� I say, my voice trailing off as I see him pick up my sketchbook. Oh god.

He blinks at it in surprise. �Hey,� he says, glancing up at me, �this is me.�

I blush, clearing my throat. �Uh. . .yeah. We�re doing portraits in art class. We�re supposed to draw somebody other than ourselves.�

He looks flattered as he hands me back the sketchbook. �And you chose me? Why?�

My blush deepens as I try to think of an explanation that won�t embarrass me or hurt his feelings. �I. . .you. . t. .t. . have a great profile.� I say finally.

I can hear Stokely behind me groaning. What?! It was better than saying I draw him because I secretly pine for him!

�Oh.� Casey says, nodding. �Well, I�d like to see it when you get finished.�

I blink in surprise. �Oh. Okay.� I glance around, noticing he�s alone. �Where�s Delilah?�

Casey rolls his eyes. �Some big emergency with the cheerleaders.� he says. �I don�t know. I didn�t really pay attention.�

�Oh.� I say. �Cool.�

We both stand up and he hands my sketchbook to me. I smile shyly, adding it to the pile of books in my arms and then we stare at each other awkwardly.

�Um, so I. . .I should probably get going.� he says. �Um, stuff to cover. For the newspaper.�

�Oh yeah, right.� I say, nodding.

He starts to walk away and then stops, turning back to look at me. �Hey, um, have you heard about that new club in town?�

�What, the Reverb?� I ask. �Yeah, Zeke mentioned it. Why?�

�Um, there�s going to be a bunch of people there tonight.� he says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

�Oh.� I say.

He nods. �Yeah, um, well, maybe see you there. Sometime.�

�What are you, crazy?� Stokely hisses at me as Casey walks away.

�What?!� I say, blinking at her.

�He all but asked you out, Morgana!� Stokely says.

�He did not!� I insist.

Stokely rolls her eyes. �God, you are so fucking clueless.� says.ays. �Haven�t you ever heard of hinting?�

�God, what are you, like, a psychic now?� I mutter. �Able to read Casey�s very thoughts?�

�Actually, that would be a telepath.� Zeke says from behind me.

�Whatever.� I grumble.

�So are you going?� Zeke asks.

�Am I going where?� I say, confused.

�To the Reverb.� Zeke says patiently, like he�s explaining it to a child and waiting for them to catch on to what he means.

I groan. �I don�t know.� I say. �The heinous bitch will probably be with him.�

�No she won�t.� Zeke says matter-of-factly.

I raise an eyebrow. �And how do you know this?�

�She thinks the Reverb sucks.� Zeke says. �All the rejects hang there.�

�I see.� I say, nodding. �I dunno. . . I�m so busy. . .�

�Doing what?� Zeke says, snorting. �Washing your hair?�

I glare at him. �Let me guess. You think I should go.�

Zeke nods. �And if you don�t, I will drag you there, kicking and screaming.�

I groan. I know I�m going to regret this. I just know it.
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Snapshot of the Life of a Dork