Point-of-View+in+The+Catcher+in+the+Rye

Place your rewritten scene under the heading of the period in which you have English class, but make sure that you place your first name only after your rewritten scene.

Third Period Writers
"After i put my bas in one of those strong boxes at the station, I went into this little sandwich bar and had breakfast. I had quite a large breakfast, for me- orange juice, bacon and eggs, toast and coffee. Usually i just drink some orange juice. I'm a very light eater. I really am. That's why I'm so damn skinny. I was supposed to be on this diet where you can eat a lot of starches and crap, to gain weight and all, but I didn't ever do it. When I'm out somewhere, I generally just eat a Swiss cheese sandwich and a malted milk. It isn't much but you get quite a lot of vitamins in the malted milk. H. V. Caulfield. Holden Viatamin Caulfield." Holden walks into a sandwich bar orders tons of food then after hes done eating he is full. His stomach is bloated and his expression shows a surprised face for ordering that much food. He is very skinny so he does not usually order that much food. Holden usually orders a cheese sandwich but instead today he ordered a large breakfast. Holden begins to show an expression of zoning out. Ricky Quan

“Finally I got out of bed, with just my pajamas on, and opened the door. I didn’t even have to turn the light on in the room, because it was already daylight. Old Sunny and Maurice, the pimpy elevator guy, were standing there…… Then he smacked me. I didn’t even try to get out the way or duck or anything. All I felt was this terrific punch in my stomach.” As usual, Holden is in his room with his as usual pajamas, smoking cigarettes, and it seemed like he has been smoking a lot by looking at the box of cigarettes on the floor. Somehow I see no expressions on his face and no colors in his face as if he is unpleasant with the amount of cigarette he is smoking. Few minutes later, knocking came on Holden’s door, and there I see two human, one with a familiar faces, it was Maurice, the elevator man. Holden asks why they are here, because he rarely have guest coming. I saw Maurice’s hand lifted up to his shoulders, with five fingers up, saying “just five bucks” seems like Maurice wants something from him. Holden then responses saying that he doesn’t owe them “five bucks.” But I didn’t see any sign of Maurice giving up; instead he came inside the room with wrinkles on his forehead, repeating the question he was asking for the past few minutes. Sitting in Holden's room, listening to all these words out of Holden's mouth made Maurice's face blank and taking a big sigh. There I saw Holden folding up his arms and answering them with a shaking voice, and his face all pale while Maurice shoves him against the door. On the other side of the room, I saw a girl picking up Holden’s wallet, and taking out a green paper with the number “5” on it. Holden reaches his hands out to his wallet and the green paper, and suddenly there dropped a crystal clear liquid. Holden continuously shouts to them with his weak voice, and somehow the words mentioned out of his shaking mouth, created Maurice’s face to become red and within a second, Maurice’s hand created a loud slap noise with Holden’s cheeks and then in the next second, his fist was at Holden’s stomach. All I saw there was red marks on Holden’s cheeks.

P118~P119 Omniscient 3rd point of view After He got the tickets to the Lunts' show, He took a cab up to the park. On the way to the park, he regreted taking cab, because he used most of his money. He arrived at the park. The park was pretty lousy. It wasn't too cold, but the sun still wasn't out, and there didn't look like there was anything in the park except dog crap and globs of pit and cigar butts from old men, and the benches all looked like they'd be wet if you sat down on them. The fact made him depressed, and he got goose flesh for no reason while he walked. Holden kept walking over to the Mall anyway, because that's where Phoebe usually goes when she's in the park. She likes to skate near the bandstand. He felt it was funny, because he also used to like to skate in the same place when he was a kid. When he got there, he couldn't find around anywhere. There were a few kids around, skating and all, and two boys were playing Flys Up with a soft ball. He found a kid about Phoebe's age sitting on a bench all by herself, tightening her skate. He thought that she might know where Phoebe is, so he went over and sat down next to her and asked her. "Do you know Phoebe Caulfield, by any chance?" As he had thought, she knew Phoebe. He introduced himself as a older brother of Phoebe. The kid said that Phoebe was probably in the museum where the Indians are. He said thank you to the kid, and he was to leave, but the kid suddenly said it was sunday. Holden realized that Phoebe should not be in the museum because it was sunday. She was having hard time to tighten her skate. He helped her in tighting it. She said thank you to him. She was a very nice kid, polite little kid. Holden loves it when a kid's nice and polite when he tighten their skate for them or something. He really liked her and asked if she could go have some hot chocolate or something with him, but she said no, thank you. Kyung Jae Lee

Pages 100- 102 Hikari Otomo

“Anyway, when I was in bed, I couldn’t pray worth a damn. Every time I got started, I kept picturing old Sunny calling me a crumb-bum. Finally, I sat up in bed and smoked another cigarette. It tasted lousy. I must’ve smoked around two packs since I left Pencey. All of a sudden, while I was laying there smoking, somebody knocked on the door. I kept hoping it wasn’t //my// door they were knocking on, but I knew damn well it was. I don’t know //how// I knew, but I knew. I knew //who// it was, too. I’m psychic.” Holden laid down on the bed, closed his eyes and pressed his hands together, just as one would when he prays. Then he muttered few words of the prayer but stopped with a frown. He shook his head, as if he was trying to get something off of his mind, then started again with the prayer but again, stopped. Finally he sat up in his bed and smoked another cigarette. He took one deep inhale and dropped his shoulders, rolling his eyes. There were two packs of cigarettes in the trashcan. All of a sudden, while he laid there smoking, there was a knock on the door. Holden didn’t look up and kept smoking, looking out the window. It seemed as if he was deaf, but one could tell he heard the knock because every time there was a knock, he would lift a little finger. Sayaka Maeda, page 100

So I come back from having this "amazing" night with Jean and the whole night I have not a care in the world about my report. I had Holden do it for since I had plans for the night. After cleaning out the back of the car and trying to fix the window knob thing that Jean broke, I ran into the room and see that Holden has finished. When I read what he had wrote I thought to myself that he had to be day dreaming while I was telling him what the paper was about, because it had nothing to do with the damn assignment! It had to be about a room and he writes about a damn baseball glove! No wonder why that idiot is flunking out of this school. Something seemed to snap in him, because while I was yelling at him, he grabbed the paper and ripped it to pieces. After I cooled down a little bit, that bastard had the nerve to smoke in the room AND ask about my date with Jean. He was really interested in what Jean and I did, but I never told him. He went crazy! He just attacked me, but me being the, Neanderthal that I am, I easily wrestled him to his back. That little punk, even when I was on top of him, was insulting me! I clocked that guy right in his nose and really made a mess with all the blood. This really disturbed me so I just left the room and went over to my friend's dorm. I never thought that I'd need to punch Holden in the face, but him being the cry baby that he his, it had to come down to that. Reed Meyer, Pages 40-46, Perspective of Stradlater.

The night out with Jane was a cold one and I complained about it as I made my way back into the dorms. The whole school felt pretty empty and I thought out loud, "Where the hell is everybody?" Holden didn't answer, not that I was expecting one from him. As I started to undress, I remembered the composition he had to write for me and I asked him if he did it. "It's on the goddamn bed," he answered. He and his language-- I bet he can't say a singe sentence without swearing or cursing everything around him.

He sure got on my nerves, but at least he was nice enough to do what I asked. Or, that's what I thought at first. My frustrations with him grew as I read the trash he wrote. It was about a goddamn baseball glove! "I told ya it had to be about a goddamn room or a house or something." He argued back, of course, about how there wasn't any difference between writing about a stupid glove or a room and I argued back, "You don't do one damn thing the way you're supposed to. I mean it. Not one damn thing."

Then the looney tore up and threw away what I needed to turn in! I didn't know what his problem was and on top of that he just had to smoke his cigarette, as if it made him seem more mature or something. He knew it drove me mad that jerk. I ignored him, though, until later when he asked me about Jane. By then I was cutting my toe nails (A handsome guy like me grooms from time to time) and I knew what his problem was as soon as he kept on pestering me about old Jane. But he started to ask me all these dumb questions like, "Did you give her my regards?" or "Did you ask her if she still keeps all her kings in the back row?" He was honestly just so stupid at times.

"Where'd you go with her if you didn't go to New York?" he asked me after I had to remind him she was signed out for nine-thirty only. I started telling him about how Jane and I were together in Ed Banky's car. Good guy, that Ed Banky. Always there to give you a hand when you need one. Anyway, that was when Holden got really nosy. "What'd you do? Give her the time in Ed Banky's goddamn car?" I almost laughed out loud. Wouldn't he like to know? "That's a professional secret, buddy." I answered, like the cool guy I am.

I don't know what came over the lunatic next. He tried to clock me, but ended up brushing against my head or something. He couldn't even throw a proper punch. I acted quickly before he could recover and had the ninny on the floor in a few seconds. "What the hell's the matter with you?!" I said. He was almost crying now, Holden Caulfield, and yelled at me to get off of him. Fat chance. He was going crazy, I wasn't about to get off of him anytime soon. Then he started to call me a sonuva-- and a moron and spat out a bunch of other crazy things only he would care about. I was irritated as hell now, and seeing red. "Shut up, now Holden." I demanded in an angry voice. Not that it did much good.

And I was going to let him go, I really was, but he said, "You're a dirty stupid sonuva-- of a moron." And that got me really mad. The sounva-- just wouldn't shut up! And I started to give it to him, letting my anger take over. He was all bloody, and I admit I thought I killed him or something. He managed in the end, though, that crazy, jealous idiot.

- Libby, pages 40-45, Stradlater's POV

While we were waiting at the Grand Central Station for the next train to take us near our new convent, a teenage boy had approached us to help us with our suitcases. He looked haggard and frail, as if he's had a rough night. Just before he gave us a hand, he was scarfing down some bacon and eggs. I assumed it had been his first meal in a while. After thanking him for putting our luggage away, the three of us sat down at the counter. I put my basket down on the floor, but he picked it back up, asking if I were taking up a collection. I smiled and told him no, and explained that I was just carrying it because it wouldn't fit in my bag. However, he insisted on donating ten dollars, and told me to just keep it for when I do take up a collection. He really was a genuine boy, however, I just felt a little bad taking money from him. He looked so beat down and poor. I didn't want to shoot his generosity down though, and I took the ten dollars from him anyway, and thanked him profusely. The boy looked so flustered, and started to swing the conversation around. He asked us where we were from, and where we were going. I told him of how I’ll be serving as an English teacher soon, and he said that it was his best subject in school. I was surprised to hear that he took an interest in English, and asked him what he’s read in school. He mentioned various books on the Anglo-Saxons, and Romeo and Juliet. I was delighted to hear he chose to read the book on his own. I really love the book. However, he mentioned he wasn’t fond of a few things about it. I was very curious to know, and asked him if he remembered what exactly. He started to go on and on about how Romeo and Juliet actually annoyed him, which somewhat flustered me. He thought it was all Romeo’s fault that Mercutio had died, and then he started to go on about how Mercutio was the most likeable character in the play. I started to feel a bit uncomfortable, because it seemed as if he was a little mad or aggravated the whole time he was explaining these things, so I changed the topic. I asked him what school he went to, and he said Pencey. I heard it was a very prestigious school. Sister Mary stood up and said we’d better get going soon after. The boy tried to pay our check for us, but I demanded it back, telling him he’d been more than generous. I sort of wondered what made him so desperate to try to take care of us for. I almost sensed some loneliness in him. As we said our goodbyes, he accidentally blew smoke into our faces. I knew he wasn’t being rude or anything, he was too kind to do so, but he wouldn’t stop apologizing. After we had finally calmed him down, we said goodbye again, and departed. I felt a little sorry for the poor boy, and wished I had given him his ten dollar donation back.

-Devin: pages 110-113, in the nun's POV

Fourth Period Writers
I was lying in my bed, wide awake, when all of the sudden Holden came in and said "Ackley? Y'awake?" I answered "Yeah." My room was dark, and I sat up in bed, and leaned on my arm while Holden stepped on someone's shoe and nearly fell over. He then asked me the question of "What the hellya doing anyway?" Really? I answered with, "Wuddaya mean what the hell am I doing? I was tryna //sleep// before you guys started making all that noise. What the hell was the fight about, anyhow?" "Where's the light?" He was sliding his hand all over the wall looking for the light. "Wuddaya want the light for? ...Right next to your hand." He turned the light on, and I shielded my eyes from the light. It was bright, then I saw Holden's face, it was covered in blood. "Jesus! What the hell happened to you?" I asked. While sitting on the floor, he said, "I had a little goddam tiff with Stradlater... Listen, do you feel like playing a little Canasta?" I love Canasta, but he was still bleeding, I told him to put something on it, but he just answered, "It'll stop. Listen you wanna play a little Canasta or something don'tcha?" I answered, "Canasta, for Chrissake. Do you know what time it is, by any chance?" He just went, "It isn't late. It's only around eleven, eleven-thirty." That wasn't a very good answer, I said, "Only around! Listen, I gotta get up and go to //Mass// in the morning, for Chrissake. You guys start hollering and fighting in the middle of goddam-" I stopped, then continued with, "What the hell was the fight about, anyhow?" He said, "It's a long story. I don't wanna bore ya, Ackley. I'm thinking of your welfare." Then he asked me if he could sleep in Ely's bed tonight. Ely's my roommate and was out. I answered, "I don't know when the hell he's coming back." He said, "What the hell do you mean you don't know when he's coming back? He never comes back till Sunday night does he?" I answered, "No, but for Chrissake, I can't just tell somebody they can sleep in his goddam bed if they want to." Well, of course I can't, that's rude. Then all of the sudden he comes over and pats me on the shoulder. "You're a prince, Ackley kid, you know that?" he said. I hate it when he calls me "Ackley Kid" I'm older than him! And I don't have the right to say anything about Ely's bed! It's not mine is it? So, I try to tell him but he just goes, "You're a real prince. You're a gentleman and a scholar, kid. Do you happen to have any cigarettes, by any chance? -Say 'no' or I'll drop dead." I answered, "No, I don't, as a matter of fact. Listen, what was the hell was the fight about?" He didn't answer so I asked him again. He answered with "About you." I answered, "About me, for Chrissake?" I mean, why would I be their topic of arguement? He said, "Yeah, I was defending your goddam honor. Stradlater said you had a lousy personality. I couldn't let him get away with that stuff." Awww, nice guy, at least I thought, because then he said he was kidding once I said "He did? No kidding? He did?" Ugh, then he went to lie down on Ely's bed. Then he told me "This room stinks, I can smell your socks from way over here. Don'tcha ever send them to the laundry?" I was getting a little tired, after all I did have mass the next day, so I said, "If you don't like it, you know what you can do. How 'bout turning off the goddam light?" He didn't answer for awhile, he just laid there on Ely's bed. Then he said, "Tell me the story of your fascinating life, Ackley kid." Again, with the Ackley kid. I said, "How 'bout turning off the goddam light? I gott get up for Mass in the morning." I really wanted to sleep. He got up and turned the light off, but then he went back to lie down on Ely's bed. I really didn't need him to be in Ely's bed right now. So, I asked him, "What're ya gonna do-sleep in Ely's bed?" He just said, "I may. I may not. Don't worry about it." Oh, I'm not worried about it, so I told him, "I'm not worried about it. Only, I'd hate like hell if Ely came in all of the sudden and found some guy-" He cut me off and said, "Relax. I'm not gonna sleep here. I wouldn't abuse your goddam hospitality." So, I fell asleep. ~Chapter 7, the beginning part, Hazelle

I walked up to the door, waiting for a second to catch my breath. Twelve-Twenty-two, I read. This was it. I had my polo coat on over my green dress with a pink slip under and was feeling fairly good. I mean honestly it’s not the first time I’ve done something like this, but it still leaves me a tad unsettled. After a moment of silence I willed my hand to knock on the door. Next I heard a thud. Strange. The door swung open, and I was face to face with this fairly tall clean-cut boy with crew cut. He looked harmless enough. He gave me a once-over. I could tell. Guys after all are pretty easy to read. “How do you do,” he said in a failed attempt to sound suave, but little details like this were nothing. I knew his true nature. He called me up here for one thing after all. This attempt of acting suave was rather pointless. Not impressed, I looked him in the eye and said, “you the guy Maurice said?” “Is he the elevator boy?” he asked. Well who else would it be? Being the sweet girl I am I let it slip though and just said “yeah.” “Yes, I am. Come in, won’t you?” he said. Really? Is this how he plans to sweet-talk a girl? He should just cut out the effort and get straight to the point. It’s easier for both of us that way. I strut past him into the room and took off my coat, then proceeded to sit on the chair near the desk. I was getting kinda antsy. He should just get the point. I know what I’m here for after all, and he knows it just as well. He was starting to stare at me again. Then he sat in the chair next to mine and offered me a cigarette. “I don’t smoke.” I responded. Great. My nerves were getting the better of me. He looked back over at me as if he expected me to say something. After a few moments of unbearable silence he said, “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jim Steele.” Jim Steele. Really? If you plan to lie to me about your name, might as well pick a better one, or don’t say anything at all. “Ya got a watch on ya?” I asked. He didn’t answer my question of course, so I asked him another one. “Hey, how old are you, anyways?” “Me? Twenty-two,” he responded. Yes you, who else would I be talking to. Again with the lies. Too bad, he’s kinda cute, but it's the unconscious liar types that you have to be careful for. I mean sure he has the height of a twenty-two year old, but I highly doubt that he is one. “Like fun you are,” I said. “How old are you?” he asked. You expect me to tell you my age after you blatantly lie about yours. Real witty. “Old enough to know better. Ya got a watch on ya?” I asked. Not wishing to waste anymore time I got up and proceeded to pull the dress off. I could tell he was staring again. “Ya got a watch on ya, hey?” I asked once more. Boy was this kid out of it. “No. No, I don’t,” he said. Took him long enough. “What’s your name?” Again with the names. Why should I tell you? It’s not like we’re getting married or something. Ughhh I be nice, better to answer now that have him keep asking. This was a waste of time. “Sunny. Let’s go, hey?” I said, but this boy was as slow as a snail. “Don’t you feel like talking for a while? Are you in a very big hurry?” He might be cute, but he was getting on my nerves. “What the heck ya wanna talk about?” “I don't know. Nothing special. I just thought perhaps you might care to chat for a while.” I sat back down. Of course. “Would you care for a cigarette now?” he asked. Ummm didn’t I just tell you I don’t smoke. Honestly, short term memory much… “I don't smoke. Listen, if you’re gonna talk, do it. I got things to do.” It was painfully silent for a while. Finally he made up his mind and asked, “You don’t come from New York, do you?” “Hollywood,” I spat out. If this was how this evening was going to play out, I might as well fix my dress. No point in getting it wrinkled for nothing. I got up an went over to get my dress. “Ya got a hanger? I don’t want to get my dress all wrinkly. Its brand-clean.” “Sure.” He seemed overly glad as he got up took my dress and put it in the closet. “Do you work every night?” he asked. “Yeah.” “What do you do during the day?” I shrugged looking at the hotel menu, “Sleep. Go to the show.” What’s with all these pointless questions. “Let’s go, hey. I haven’t got all -” I was cut off. “Look. I don't feel very much like myself tonight. I’ve had a rough night. Honest to God. I’ll pay you and all, but you don’t mind very much if we don’t do it? Do you mind very much?” Honestly! You had me sit around here for nothing. I have my rep to protect too. I’ll show him. I walked over to him. “What’sa matter?” I asked playfully. “Nothing’s the matter. The thing is, I had an operation very recently.” “Yeah? Where?” “On my wuddayacallit- my clavichord.” Clavichord? “Yeah? Where the hell’s that?” “The clavichord?” No duh the clavichord. What else would I be talking about. “Well, actually, it’s in the spinal canal. I mean it’s quite a ways down in the spinal canal.” “Yeah?” There’s no way that's true. I shouldn’t take any chances, but like I said earlier my reps on the line. So for the sake of it I’ll pretend like I believe him. “That’s tough.” Then I sat down on his lap. “You’re cute.” “I’m still recuperating,” he said. We’ll see about that. Like that's gonna stop me. “You look like a guy in the movies. You know. Whosis. You know who I mean. What the heck’s his name?” Flattery always softens them up. “I don’t know,” he said a bit agitated. “Sure you know. He was in that pitcher with Melvine Douglas? The one that was Mel-vine Douglas’s kid brother? That falls off his boat? You know who I mean.” “No, I don’t. I go to the movies as seldom as I can.” Ughhh there’s only so much lying I can take. If your bored and free enough to hire someone like me to talk to you, then I know for a fact you’re bored enough to go to the movies. I’m fed up with his arrogant nonchalant fake attitude. “Do you mind cutting it out? I’m not in the mood, I just told you. I just had an operation.” Ohhh please I was doing you a favor. “Listen, I was sleepin’ when that crazy Maurice woke me up. If you think I’m–” “I said I’d pay you for coming an all. I really will. I have plenty of dough. It’s just that I’m practically just recovering from a very serious–” “What the heck did you tell that crazy Maurice you wanted a girl for, then? If you just had a goddam operation on your goddam wuddayacallit. Huh?” Now I was angry. “I thought I’d be feeling a lot better than I do. I was a little premature in my calculations. No kidding. I’m sorry. If you’ll just get up a second, I’ll get my wallet. I mean it.” You think that's a good enough excuse! This guy was rubbing me the wrong way. He better pay me. Heck, he better tip me. I watched as he went to get his wallet. He took out a five-dollar bill and handed it to me. “Thanks a lot. Thanks a million.” “This is a five. It costs ten.” Oh so now he thinks he can just cheat me out of my money. “Maurice said five. He said fifteen till noon and only five for a throw.” “Ten for a throw” I told him firmly. “He said five. I’m sorry- I really am- but that's all I’m gonna shell out.” I thought this guy was detestable before, but now… “Do you mind getting me my frock? Or would it be too much trouble?” Great… He was staring at me again. Then he went and got me my dress. I slipped it on and picked up my coat. “So long, crumb-bum,” I said. “So long,” he responded. Not so fast. Don’t be getting your hopes up. This won’t be the last time you see me. I’ll be back to get what’s due to me.

-chapter 13, pg 93-98, Gabriella

I came in griping about how cold it was out. Then i said "Where the hell is everybody? It's like a goddam morgue around here." He didn't answer me so I just shrugged it off and started to take off my clothes. I thanked him for letting me wear his hound-tooth, and I hung it up on the hanger and put it in the closet. After i was done with that I asked him if he wrote my composition, and he told me it was on my bed. So I went to my bed and read it while I was taking off my shirt. After I finished reading it, I felt that this story was completely off topic from what I had planned for him to write about. I specifically told him to write about a room or a house, but he wrote about a house?! I was getting pretty irritated but I held myself back, and I said "For Chrissake, Holden. This is about a goddam baseball glove." He answered me back pretty coldly saying "So what?" I was pretty irritated to begin with so i just went ahead and told him "Wuddaya mean so what? I told ya it had to be about a goddam room or a house or something." He answered me pretty smartly saying "You said it had to be descriptive. What the hell's the difference if it's about a baseball glove?" I was pretty sore and furious so i told him "God damn it. You always do everything backasswards. No wonder you're flunking the hell out of here. You don't do one damn thing the way you're supposed to. I mean it. Not one damn thing." I just had to tell him that. he told me "All right, give it back to me, then." He just pulled the paper right out of my hand and he tore it up. At that point i had no idea why the hell he did that so i said "What the hellja do that for?" He didn't even answer me and he threw my composition in the trash, and he lay downed on his bed. I just took my mind off of that for a second and i started to undress again, but while i was undressing he lit up a cigarette, and i was thinking that he was right out of his goddam mind. I guess i'm a guy who gets pretty pissed off if anyone breaks the rules, so i did get pissed off at Holden for smoking a cigarette when he wasn't supposed to. I just kept silent for a while then Holden suddenly asked me something. He said, "You're back pretty goddam late if she only signed out for nine-thirty. Did you make her be late signing in?" I just sat there and cut my toenails. I just told him "Coupla minutes." Then i said, "Who the hell signs out for nine-thirty on a Saturday night?" God can this guy ever think for once? He kept asking me questions and it got pretty irritating but i just answered him. He asked "Did you go to New York?" Again, God seriously these are the dumbest questions anyone can ask, but i just answered him i guess. I told him, "Ya crazy? How the hell could we go to New York if she only signed out for nine-thirty?" He just said "That's tough." I got tired of his smoking so i just told him "Listen, if you're going to smoke in the room, how 'bout going down to the can and do it? You may be getting the hell out of here, but I have to stick around long enough to graduate." He just ignored me and i got pretty irritated, but i just let it pass. He then asked me, "Did you give her my regards?" I wasn't really listening so i just told him "Yeah." And he kept pummeling me with questions, then he asked me, "What'd she say? Did you ask her if she still keeps all her kings in the back row?" The first thing in my mind was, what does this guy thing i was doing with her? Playing Chess? My god this guy needs a life. I told him "No, i didn't ask her. What do you think we did all night, play checkers, for Chrissake?" He then just asked me "If you didn't go to New York, where'd ya go with her?" I just ignored him, and after i finished cutting my toenails, I stood up from my bed and went to his bed and i leaned over and i punched him little on his shoulder. He told me to cut it out, but I didn't really feel like stopping. He then asked me "Where'd you go with her if you didn't go to New York?" I just told him "Nowhere. We just sat in the goddam car." I tapped him playfully on the shoulder again and he told me to cut it out and also he asked me whose car i used. I told him i used Ed Banky's car, and Ed Banky was my basketball coach at Pencey. We were pretty cool so he always let me used his car whenever i wanted or when he wasn't busy. I started to brush my teeth and he suddenly said "What'd you do? Give her the time in Ed Banky's goddam car?" This guy really has to watch what he says. I just told him "What a thing to say. Want me to wash your mouth out with soap?" Well he kept persisting and asking me and i used one of my secret ways to get out of these moments. I told him "That's a professional secret, buddy." He suddenly just stood up and walked over to me and looked pretty darn mad. Well the next thing i know he swung tried to punch me in a massive swing that can only hit if a person stays still or walks into it, to be simple only an idiot would walk into that. But well i was caught off guard and he hit me only on the side of the head, and it pretty much hurt like hell. Well my reaction took place and i well i pinned him to the floor and i sat on him so he couldn't do anything else. I just told him "What the hell's the matter with you?" He said, "Get your lousy knees off my chest." He was getting a little teary so i guess i had to get off of him but then he put in another smart remark so i took back what i was about to do and i just kept sitting on him so he couldn't do anything that he'll regret. I was getting pretty red and I told him "Shut up, now, Holden, just shut up, now." He told me then "You don't even know if her first name is Jane or Jean, ya goddam moron!" I got pretty mad, and i told him "Now, shut up, Holden, God damn it-I'm warning ya, If you don't shut up, I'm gonna slam ya one." He put in another smart remark by saying, "Get your dirty stinking moron knees off my chest." I asked him, "If i letcha up, will you keep your mouth shut?" He didn't answer him and i asked him again and he said, "Yes." I got off of him and he got up, and he suddenly put in another smart remark. This sonuvabitch is really good with these smart remarks that are really annoying, and i really hated the word "moron", it made me feel inferior so i just hated that word. He then said, "You're a dirty stupid sonuvabitch of a moron." I got really mad and i shook my finger at him saying, "Holden, God damn it, I"m warning you, now. For the last time. If you don't keep your yap shut, I'm gonna-" He didn't let me finish my sentence, and he said, "Why should I? That's just the trouble with all you morons. You never want to discuss anything. That's the way you can always tell a moron. They never want to discuss anything intellig-" I don't really get why I did what i did at that moment. I just let my fist take action and the next thing i knew, Holden was on the ground, and my fist was a little bloody from the impact. I didn't knock him out which was good, but his nose was bleeding all over the place, and i was standing on top of him to make sure he was okay. I brought my first aid kit which was a toilet kit, and i told him "Why the hell don'tcha shut up when i tellya to?" I was really nervous and i was scared that i might have fractured his skull or something when i let him drop to the floor. I was super nervous and i attempted to make an excuse by saying, "You asked for it, God damn it," I was really worried and he just lay there on the ground. I just kept calling him a moron sonuvabitch for keep calling me a moron and making me mad. I was pretty nervous and i told him, "Listen. Go wash your face," Ya hear me?" Holden then mumbled something and he left the room. You had to feel sorry for that sonuvabitch, and I was pretty nervous about it, but i just let it go and i just cleaned up and got changed and went to bed. Chapter 6 You Young

Stradlater and Holden were the only ones in the can. Holden sat down on the washbowl right next to Stradlater and started turning the cold water on and off. Stradlater kept whistling “Song of India” while he shaved. Holden winced at the piercing sounds Stradlater was making. Holden’s flinched face turned into a sickened one as he saw Stradlater’s razor. It was rusty, and full of lather and hair. Holden kept looking from the razor to Stradlater’s face and back again. In contrast to the razor’s face, Stradlater’s face did not have any spots on it. And he also kept his back very straight. Holden looked at himself in the mirror and smiled widely at the red hunting hat he still had on.

Suddenly, Stradlater said, “Hey, wanna do me a big favor?” Holden turned and glanced at him cautiously and said, "What?", his voice indifferent and monotone. “You going out tonight?” Stradlater said. “I might, I might not. Why?” Holden said coolly. “I got about a hundred pages to read for history for Monday,” Stradlater exaggerated. “How ‘bout writing a composition for me, for English? I’ll be up the creek if I don’t get the goddam thing in by Monday, the reason I ask, How ‘bout it?”

Holden gave an exasperated sigh, looked straight at Stradlater in the mirror, and said, “//I’m// the one that’s flunking out of the goddam place, and //you’re// asking me to write you a goddam composition.” “Yeah I know. The thing is, though, I’ll be up the creek if I don’t get it in. Be a buddy. Be a buddyroo, Okay?” Stradlater said, while still concentrating on shaving his face.

Holden didn’t answer him right away, but just stared at him. Then finally he said, “What on?” “Anything. Anything descriptive. A room. Or a house. Or something you once lived in or something- //you// know. Just as long as it’s descriptive as hell.” He gave out a big yawn while he said this. He wasn't even looking at Holden while he talked to him. So Holden rolled his eyes and turned the other way.

Stradlater kept going. “Just don’t do it //too// good, is all. That Hartzell thinks you’re a hotshot in English, and he knows you’re my roommate. So I mean don’t stick all the commas and stuff in the right place.” At this, Holden so curtly rose from his seat that the stool toppled over. Stradlater did not even notice because he was still engrossed in front of the mirror, fixing himself. Holden dismissed himself from their conversation and started tap dancing on the stone floor and amusing himself.

- ch 4, p. 26-28, fly-on-the-wall POV, Angella

As I got onto the train, I saw a sticker of Pencey Prep and the image of my son sprung inside my head. I went closer to where it was and decided to sit next to the young boy who had it. I thought I mentioned the sticker as I sat down; so I asked, “ Excuse me, but isn’t that a Pencey Prep sticker?” “Yes, it is,” he said. “OH do you go to Pencey,” I asked again with a calm voice. “Yes, I do,” he replied. “Oh, how lovely! Perhaps yo know my son, then, Ernest Morrow” He goes to Pencey.” “Yes, I do. He’s in my class.” He didn't seem like a pretty bad guy, maybe he could tell me how Ernest was doing. “Oh, how nice! I must tell Ernest we met. What’s your name?” “Rudolf Schmidt,” he replied. “Do you like Pencey, “ I asked. “Pencey? It’s not too bad. It’s not paradise or anything, but it’s as good as most schools. Some of the faculty are pretty conscientious.” “ Ernest just adores it.” I thought I should add. “I know he does, he adapts himself very well to things. He really does. I mean he really knows how to adapt himself.” I was surprised Ernest was always so sensitive. Him being social with students shocked me. “Do you think so?” I said. “Ernest? Sure,” he said. It was getting kind of hot so I decided to take off my gloves. How embarrassing to show Ernest’s friend, myhttp://406americanliterature.wikispaces.com/Point-of-View+in+The+Catcher+in+the+Rye broken nail. “ It broke, while I was getting out of the cab,” I explained with a big smile of my face. It got sort of awkward, so I continued, “ Ernest’s father and I sometimes worry about him. We sometimes feel he’s not a terribly good mixer.” “How do you mean?” he asked. “Well. He’s a very sensitive boy. He’s really never been a terribly good mixer with other boys. Perhaps he takes things a little more seriously than he should at his age.” I replied. His face scrunched up and the lips curled up in each ends as I said this. It’s as if I what I said was totally wrong. “Would you care for a cigarette?” He asked. I couldn't believe my ears. “ I don't believe this is a smoker, Rudolf,” I said. “That’s all right. We can smoke till they start screaming at us,” he said again. I decided, it wouldn't hurt so I grabbed one and he lit it for me. This Rudolf kid, isn’t that bad, quite interesting if you ask me. I saw blood coming down from his nose so I said” I maybe wrong but I believe your nose is bleeding, dear.” “I got hit with a snowball, one of those very icy ones, “ he said as he took out his handkerchief. “Old Ernie,” he went on. “ He’s one of the most popular boys at Pencey did you knowthat? “No, I didn't” I really didn't. “He nodded, “ it really took everybody quite a long time to get to know him. He’s a funny guy. A strange guy, in lots of ways know what I mean? Like when I first met him. When I first met him, I thought he was kind of a snobbish person. That’s what I thought. But he isn’t. He’s just got this very original personality that takes you a little while to get to know him.” Rudolf said. I was amazed and happy, I was glad Ernest was doing so well, I just wanted to hear more. Then he went on,” Well, a bunch of us wanted old Ernie to be president of the class. I mean he was the unanimous choice. I mean he was the only boy that could really handle the job. But this other boy Harry Fencer was elected. And the reason he was elected, the simple and obvious reasos, was because Ernie wouldn't let us nominate him. Because he’s so darn shy and modest and all. You oughta make him try to get over that. Didn't he tell you about it?” I had no idea, the thought of my son becoming class presidnt. OH wow. “No, he didn't.” I said.// //( pg 54-56), Hae Min Song//

// I was sitting in my room enjoying my own time reading my favorite magazine Atlantic Monthly in my bathrobe. My bathrobe was a little ratty and old, but it’s the most comfortable clothes in the world. I always had to put my pills near my sight because I had a bad grippe that was sickingly killing me. Then with a doorbell ringing sound, I heard wife greeting someone outside through the opened door. I imagined who it could be – the person who visits my house at this beautiful time. It was Holden Caulfied, the student who has been expelled from my school. Oh, the failure. He got straight F’s this year, and eventually he is being kicked out from our prestigious Pencey Prep School. Except that he was ruining our high reputation, I liked him anyways. // // I surely expected that Holden would come in because my door was open; instead, he sort of knocked. // // “Who’s that?” I yelled, although I knew that it was him. “Caulfield? Come on in boy.” I said. // // “Hello, sir. I got your note. Thanks a lot” Holden said. // // For a moment, I wondered which note he was talking about. // // “You didn’t have to do all that. I’d come over to say good-bye anyway” He said. // // Then it reminded me which note it was. I wrote him a note telling him to stop by and say good-by before the vacation on an account of he wasn’t coming back. // // Anyways, I told him to have a seat. He sat on my bed. // // “How’s your grippe, sir?” he asked // // “M’m boy, if I felt any better I’d have to send for the doctor,” I said. // // This knocked me out. I started chuckling like a madman. Then I finally straightened myself out and said, “Why aren’t you down at the game? I thought this was the day of the big game.” // // “It is. I was. Only, I just got back from New York with the fencing team,” he said. // // I started getting serious. It drove me crazy. “So you’re leaving us, eh?” I said. // // “Yes, sir. I guess I am.” // // I started going into this nodding routine. Holden gave me a look as if he never saw anybody nod like me. // // “What did Dr. Thurmer say to you, boy? I understood you had quite a little chat.” I said. // // “Yes, we did. We really did. I was in his office for around two hours, I guess.” he replied. // // “What’d he say to you?” // // “Oh... well, about Life being a game and all. And how you should play it according to the rules. He was pretty nice about it. I mean he didn’t hit the ceiling or anything. He just kept talking about Life being a game and all. You know” He said. // // Well, this rekindled something big inside my soul. It pulled out my deep thought from my brain. // // “Life is a game, boy. Life is a game that one plays according to the rules.” // // “Yes, sir. I know it is. I know it.” // // Does he really know? I don’t think he does. He is a loser in this game. He already broke the rules and now what? Being kicked out from school? His life is miserable. It was obvious. I was so worried about his future. // // “Has Dr. Thurmer written to your parents yet?” I asked in order to change the topic. I didn’t want to be bothered anymore. // // “He said he is going to write them on Monday.” // // “Have you yourself communicated with them?” // // “No, sir, I haven’t communicated with them, because I’ll probably see them Wednesday night when I get home” Holden said as if nothing mattered. // // “And how do you think they’ll take the news?” I asked with sincerity. // // “Well... they’ll be pretty irritated about it. They really will. This is about the fourth school I’ve gone to.” He shook his head. He shook his head quite a lot. // // All I could do was nodding. I had no words to say. He is still young, immature, not knowing the truth of this world. Well, I was like that before when I was young, so I kind of understood him. I knew that he wouldn’t take any of my words. I have no power; I am just an old history teacher giving them a lecture about the past time—who died, why they died, when they died, etc. // // Then I said, “I had the privilege of meeting your mother and father when they had their little chat with Dr. Thurmer some weeks ago. They’re grand people.” // // “Yes, they are. They are very nice.” Holden agreed. // // All of a sudden, I had something very good, something sharp as a tack to say to him. I sat up more in my chair and lifted the Atlantic Monthly off my lap and tried to chuck it on the bed, next to him. I missed. It was only about two inches away, but I missed anyway. It was kind of embarrassing for me. Holden got up and picked it up and put it down on the bed. Suddenly, I could see his face turning yellow, giving me a sign that he wanted to get the hell out of the room. // // “What’s the matter with you, boy?” I said toughly. // // “How many subjects did you carry this term?” I asked. “Five, sir” he said. // // “Five. And how many are you failing in?” // // I wanted to check if there is an emergency exit for his life. “Four. I passed English all right, because I had all that Beowulf and Lord Randal My Son stuff when I was at the Whooton School. I mean I didn’t have to do any work in English at all hardly, except write compositions once in a while.”Holden said with a bright voice. // // Holly cow, failure of 4 out of 5. So its 20% of success, hopefully? I didn’t say anything. There was a moment of silence. // // Then I said, “I flunked you in history because you knew absolutely nothing.” // // “I know that, sir. Boy, I know it. You couldn’t help it.” // // “Absolutely nothing.” I said over again. Then I said it three times. “But absolutely nothing. I doubt very much if you opened your textbook even once the whole term. Did you? Tell the truth, boy.” // // “Well, I sort of glanced through it a couple of times,” he said. // // It drove me crazy. He knew that I was mad. // // “You glanced through it, eh?” I said sarcastically. “Your, ah, exam paper is over there on top of my chiffonier. On top of the pile. Bring it here, please.” // // He stood up, walked to my chiffonier and grabbed it. Then he sat down on my bed again. // // I started handling his exam paper roughly. // // “We studied the Egyptians from November 4th to December 2nd. You chose to write about them for the optional essay question. Would you care to hear what you had to say?” // // “No, sir, not very much,” He said. // // I read it anyway though. He sat there without any movements. I stopped reading and put his paper down. // // “Your essay, shall we say, ends there,” I said in the sarcastic voice. // // “However, you dropped me a little note at the bottom of the page” I said. // // “I know I did,” he said very quickly. // // Then I started reading out the note in a loud voice. // // ‘Dear Mr. Spencer. That is all I know about the Egyptians. I can’t seem to get very interested in them although your lectures are very interesting. It is all right with me if you flunk me though as I am flunking everything else except English anyway. // // Respectfully yours, Holden Caulfield.’ // // I put his crappy paper down then looked at him. I became so anxious and distressed. // // “Do you blame me for flunking you, boy?” I said // // “No, sir! I certainly don’t” Holden cried out. // // **(Chapter II Leena Lee)** //

// ORIGINAL: // // I remember this on afternoon. It was the only time old Jane and I ever got close to necking, even. It was a Saturday and it was raining like a bastard out, and I was over at her house, on the porch-they had this big screened-in porch. We were playing checkers. I used to kid her once in a while because she wouldn’t take her kings out of the back row. But I didn’t kid her much, though. You never wanted to kid Jane too much. I think I really like it best when you can kid the pants off a girl when the opportunity arises, but it’s a funny thing. The girls I like best are the ones I never feel much like kidding. Sometimes I think they’d //like //it if you kidded them- in fact, I// know //they would-but it’s hard to get started, once you’ve known them a pretty long time and never kidded them. Anyway, I was telling about the afternoon Jane and I came close to necking. It was raining like hell and we were out on her porch, and all of a sudden this booze hound her mother was married to came out on the porch and asked Jane if there were any cigarettes in the house. I didn’t know him too well or anything, but he looked like the kind of guy that wouldn’t talk to you much unless he wanted something off you. He had a lousy personality. Anyway, old Jane wouldn’t answer him when he asked if she knew where there was any cigarettes. So the guy asked her again, but she still wouldn’t answer him. She didn’t even look up from the game. Finally the guy went inside the house. When he did, I asked Jane what the hell was going on. She wouldn’t even answer// me//, then. She made out like she was concentrating on her next move in the game and all. Then all of a sudden, this tear plopped down on the checkerboard. On one of the red squares- boy, I can still see it. She just rubbed into the board with her finger. I don’t know why, but it bothered hell out of me. So what I did was, I went over and made her move over on the glider so that I could sit down next to her- I practically sat down in her// lap//, as a matter of fact. The she//really //started to cry, and the next thing I knew, I was kissing her all over-//any//where- her eyes, her// nose//, her forehead, her eyebrows and all, her// ears//- her whole face except her mouth and all. She sort of wouldn’t let me get to her mouth. Anyway, it was the closest we ever got to necking. After a while, she got up and went in and put on this red and white sweater she had, that knocked me out, and we went to a goddam movie. I asked her, on the way, if Mr. Cudahy- that was the booze hound’s name- had ever tried to get wise with her. She was pretty young, but she had this terrific figure, and I wouldn’t’ve put it past that Cudahy bastard. She said no, though. I never did find out what the hell was the matter. Some girls you practically never find out what’s the matter.//

//CHANGED: // //<span style="color: #0000ff; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">There was this one time Holden and I got close to necking. It was a Saturday and it was raining like crazy out, and Holden was at my house, on our big screened-in porch. We were playing checkers. He liked to tease me sometimes because I never take my king out of the back row, but not a lot though. I guess he didn’t do it too much because he didn’t tease me much to begin with, so it’d be weird if he did. Anyway, it was raining like crazy and all of a sudden, my good-for-nothing father came out and asked me if there were any cigarettes in the house. I didn’t answer him. He asked again and I just ignored him and concentrated on the game. Finally, he left us alone and went back into the house. After he left, Holden asked me what the hell was going on and I didn’t answer him, I just kept concentrating on my next move. I started tearing up and before I could stop it, a tear dropped onto the board. I just rubbed it with my finger. Holden then came over to me and sat next to me. That’s when I started bawling like crazy. Holden started to kiss me everywhere-my eyes, nose, forehead, eyebrows and ears. I didn’t let him kiss my mouth though. After a while, I got up and went to go put on my sweater and we went to a movie. On our way there, Holden asked me if that good-for-nothing bastard ever tried to get wise with me and I said no. I guess he was trying to find out why I was crying but I never told him. // //<span style="color: #0000ff; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">page 78-79 // //<span style="color: #0000ff; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">--Jessica //

// Holden woke up around ten o’clock and immediately lit himself a cigarette. He looked around the room and stared at the bedside telephone for some time before he lay back down in bed. He then lit himself another cigarette. He finished that, picked up the phone, and dialed in a number. A woman’s voice answered on the other end, then a male’s, then another woman’s. Holden said, “Sally?” and the woman replied, “yes-who is this?” Holden told her his name, and they talked for a few minutes. Holden invited her to a matinee, and she accepted. He told her to meet him under the clock at the Biltmore at two o’clock. Holden eventually hung up and started getting dressed. He packed his bags, looked out the window, and left the room. He took the elevator down to the lobby and checked out of the hotel. He called for a cab and told the driver to take him to the Grand Central Station. // // Page 105-107 // // Hunter Stephens //

//“All right, chief, lets have it. I gotta get back to work.” Said Maurice. Holden// //then exclaimed that he had already paid what he owed, but was quickly cut off. “ Cut// //the crap, now. Lets have it.” interjected Maurice. Holden continued arguing that he// //didn’t owe them anything but the shaking in his voice was a clear indication of his// //nervousness. Maurice then unbuttoned his uniform, revealing his large hairy// //stomach. He asked Holden again for the five dollars, and when Holden again replied// //“No”, Maurice got up from the chair and began walking towards Holden. " Let's have it chief." he repeated,// //to which Holden again replied "No". Your gonna force me inna roughin' ya a little bit. I don't// //wanna do it but thats the way it looks. You owe us five bucks." "I don't owe you five bucks. I don't owe you// //five bucks, if you rough me up i'll yell like hell. I'll wake up everybody in the hotel. the// //police and all." He retorted nervously.//

//Moses// //Pg. 101-102//

//Sunny left the room, and Holden remained in his chair for a long while. He smoked several cigarettes and watched the sunrise through his window. He started talking aloud in the room, telling Allie to go home, get his bike, and meet him in front of Bobby Falon's house. He has a blank face. After a while, Holden finally got undressed and got into bed. Holden squirms around in bed for a bit, until he finally sits up and smokes another cigarette. There is a knock on the door,Holden asks "who's there?", but there is no reply. Holden is quivering in his pajamas. Holden opens the door and sees Sunny and Maurice. They enter and Sunny sits on the windowsill while Maurice takes a seat on a chair. Maurice asks for the $5 that Holden owes him, but Holden refuses. Maurice continues to say "All right, chief, lets have it." as he unbuttons his coat. Maurice got up from his chair and walks towards Holden, who is tearing with his arms folded. He holds Holden against the door, continuing to demand for the $5, as Sunny grabs it from his wallet. She tells Maurice to leave Holden alone, but Maurice punches him in the stomach when he calls him a moron, and says that he will become a bum on the street. Sunny and Maurice leave the room. Holden is still on the floor, awake, but still. He continues to lay there wit his hand on his stomach, gasping for breathe. He gets up and stumbles into the bathroom. He stays there for about an hour, staring into space, then taking a bath. He finally returns to bed.// //Christian// //Chapter 14//

// Holden went down the elevator to the lobby to distract himself from phoebe. Not many people were still awake at that hour though, except for a few pimpy-looking guys, and a few whory-looking blonds. // //The Lavender room was still open, and Holden decided to drop in when he heard the music from the Buddy Singer band. The place was pretty empty, except for old show-offy-looking guys with their dates, and three girls from Seattle. None really noticed him as he walked in, and that ticked him off. The waiter, Tony, gave him a table in the back and left him to himself. The Seattle girls were all talking to each other about what pictures they had seen recently and none of them noticed Holden in the corner next to them trying to catch their eye. Right about then Tony came back and asked him what he wanted. He knew that Holden could not be old enough to buy liquor but was prepared for that kind of stunt. Holden ordered a scotch and a soda and told him he wanted them mixed. on the whole Holden’s performance was pretty convincing but Tony had to ask if he had identification anyway, it was his job after all. Holden knew he couldn’t get his scotch, so he just got a coke. Holden tried one more time to get some alcohol, but Tony had to follow the rules, plus, a man like Tony was not about to let some kid get away with drinking alcohol.// //By this time the girls had noticed, and when Holden started giving them looks, all they did was giggle. Holden didn’t like that but he wasn’t about to give up a perfectly good chance to dance. He asked if any of the girls wanted to dance, and of course, the cute one in the middle got up. Its not that the other two were ugly, they just didn’t look like they would be as fun.// //The two girls stayed at the table, and watched their friend dance. They felt bad, bt they got over it soon enough, they started talking about movie stars right away, they were really interested in that kind of stuff.// //Holden was really surprised that Bernice could dance, she had taken dance classes since she was four years old but had never found a place to dance professionally. She and Holden started talking about useless stuff like movies stars and how good of a dancer Bernice was, and he kept letting his bad language slip into their conversations. He normally tried to be polite around the people he met, but he thought she might like the whole tough guy routine. It really wasn’t working.// //He sat back down after a quick jitterbug with Bernice but then felt horrible for even talking with them, they were too ignorant to even invite him to their table. But he sat down anyway. He knew it would be a waste of time, but Holden tried to have a decent conversation with them.//

//pg. 69-73// //Byron Walker//

Chapter 4, rewritten into Stradlater's POV by Josephine Ong I looked at my face in the mirror, taking care to shave my face carefully. God, I looked so beautiful. I mean, I was already full of handsome before I shaved, but since I had a date today, I wanted to make an extra effort to look even more attractive. Looking good is always a lot of work, which is why I think that I’m such a hard-working and persevering person. I mean, I look good **all** the time. But speaking of hard work, I had a lot of assignments for both English and History. Then I realized that Holden Caufield was sitting on the sink next to me, so I turned to him and asked him to write the composition for me. Holden Caufield is my roommate, and he’s pretty good at English anyway. That’s why I asked him in the first place, since I was busy and all. “ I’m the one who’s flunking out of the goddam place, and you’re asking me to write you a goddam composition,” Holden snapped at me when I asked him. “Yeah, I know,” I told him. I sure **did** know. “The thing is, though, I’ll be up in the creek if I don’t get in. Be a buddy. Be a buddyroo. Okay?” He waited a while before asking me what the homework was. God, did he like to taunt people. Holden was lucky that I was being nice today, on account of Jane knowing him and all. So I just told him what it was about, and we kept quiet for a while. Then Holden started tap-dancing and fooling around. He looked so stupid, that I couldn’t help but laugh. Then he kept on asking me who was my date, so I avoided telling him that it was Jane because he was being so annoying. After that, Holden tackled me, and I got even more annoyed. I mean, he was endangering my goddamn beautiful face. No one messes with **my** face. Like I said before, it’s a lot of work maintaining such beauty. I forced Holden to let go and told him to cut the crap. God, the boy was so immature it killed me. He didn’t even care about what other people thought of him, which is something I never understood about the guy. “Who’s the date if isn’t Fitzgerald?” he asked me, bringing up that old subject again. “That Phyllis Smith babe?” If there was anything Holden could be persistent about, it was bothering other people. You would think that he could apply that dedication to his studies, but no. He just **had** to be a prick. This time was no different. “No,” I told him, just noticing that some my hair stuck up a bit in the back. I combed it out gently until it straightened out, and even talked to Holden at the same time. (Being beautiful usually comes with being good at multi-tasking.) “It was supposed to be, but the arrangements got all screwed up. I got Bud Thaw’s girl’s roommate now.” By then, I looked good enough for my date. Now was the time to drop the bombshell. “Hey. I almost forgot. She knows you.” “Who does?” he said, already getting excited. “My date,” I told him. “Yeah? What’s her name?” “I’m thinking…Uh. Jane Gallagher.” And that was how Holden started blabbing to be about some nonsense about my stupid substitute date. That was also around the same time I started not really listening to the dude talk. I paid more attention to combing my gorgeous golden locks, till they practically lit up the crpy room. The only time I got pretty interested was when Holden said something about Jane’s dad going around naked, but even that wasn’t enough to hold my interest. I mean, she was only one of the many girls that were out there. Why should I care about her? So I finished fixing myself up, and promised Holden to tell something to Jane. I didn’t remember what that something was, so I just dressed up, made sure Holden got to writing my composition, and left. Then I went off to where the real fun started. All the preparation would finally pay off once again, just like every date I had ever been on. Seriously, it’s hard to be so gorgeous. You get so much attention that you barely have enough time for all the girls in the world. But at least Holden was helping me finish my English homework, so I could actually go on this date. Then again, he is getting axed for a reason. God, Holden better do it right.

"Some things are hard to remember. I'm thinking now when stradlater got back from his date with Jane. I mean i can't remember exactly what i doing ....He was unscrupulous. He really was."(40) Some things were hard for Holden to remember. He was thinking now of when Stradlater got back from his date with Jane. He didn't know what he was doing when her heard Stradlaters footsteps coming down the corridor. He thought he was probably still looking out the window, but he couldn't remember. It was probably because he was worried. When Holden really worries abotu something He doesn't just fool around. He even has to go to the bathroom when he gets worried about something. Only, he doesn't go. He was too worried to go. He didn't want to interrupt his worrying to go. You would be worried too if you knew Stradlater. Holden once double dated with him a couple of times, and he knew him, He was unscrupulous. He really was. -Tino