Surviving Highschool

The List

I enter the school with false hopes, thinking that this year will be different, when I know that it’s all going to be the same. There will be test flung in my face that I barely pass, crushes that never seem to be what I’d dreamed of, and girl on girl drama. No surprise there. I’ve devised a plan, my plan is to have a plan. LOL (as they say in the texting world) I am aware of how stupid that plan is, but hey it’s a start. Besides Mr. Welward is writing that to begin you must start from the beginning, which is the thought of having a beginning.

All in all I can’t wait to get out of here, the person across from me has just made the unfortunate mistake of slipping off his shoe. And Phew I can fell my lungs being squeezed with each new breath. If this is what it is like to live with a smoker, I apologetically give my pity. I curse myself in my head for my heightened senses. They are of no great stimulation. I get no use out of them, being that every classroom pretty much has the same setup, the teachers desk stands its ground in the middle taking head position to all the tiny seats that are constantly drilling into our butt with each passing second, while the walls bombard us with easy to forget information.

The scene is pretty much set as the kid’s race in at last minute notice, trying there best to remain casual. We sluggishly find our way to our assigned positions, the places where we will be twisting and turning every ten minutes or so, hoping that someone will pull the fire drill just so we have an excuse to get up and stretch.

Okay, okay so it’s not all that bad. But for me history seems to stain that thought of a good future. Seriously all of us are just staring around not listening to a single word the teacher is saying. Who really cares about how the world used to be? We aren’t living in the past. We are living right now. Besides I might be getting no use out this since the office person got my schedule all mixed up. English should be my third hour, instead I am stuck stuffing useless facts in my unfuctional brain as the sunlight from the window shines in on me, piercing my eyes. Please blind me light so that I don’t have to see the corruption of my generation in this institute that they call school.

I’m watching the clock above the door. Only ten more minutes left. I think I can make it. Too bad the two in front of me are making goo goo eyes at each other. It just makes it that much more unbearable.

Bling, Bling, Bling.

You think that once would be enough to get us up and out onto the next class, closer to the streets that call us.

You know I’ll tell you one thing, I never expected to be stuck here, being that I barely got by with finishing 9th grade. Now that’s a story for another day. Let’s just say I’ve always thought bailing out was better then toughing it out.

These people are so rude. No one cares if they bump into a yongin, as they call us newbies. Someday I swear I will break out. Show these people what they missed. I’ll leave that for another day, one where my hair doesn’t look like too many pencils have gotten stuck in it.

I’m walking down the hallway, trying to keep to myself when my past comes back into my future. You can see that they depend on each other, like “The Plastics” in Mean Girls, except they aren’t so vicious. Wait I take that back, one of the girls just gave me a nasty look. It’s no surprise that I don’t even know them. I’m almost ashamed to think of them as my old group.

The girls are all huddled into an unbreakable pack near David Sosaskie (the head honcho-Casey’ s boyfriend). Their leader Casey (my ex-best friend) gives me that look. Not one of hate. But the one that gentle says, “To bad you missed out on all of this.”

I smile. It’s not returned. Not even by her.

Davey, as she calls him, is nudging in to all the sophomores that enter his territory. He is like a pit bull waiting for his next prey. I am just in time for a show it seems, one of fidelity that is. It’s a game he has a repetition of playing. Only the stupid girls fall for his bad boy look. I frankly find him and everything that goes along with him repulsive. His hand inches through his greased back long Johnny Travolta hair, making his sportsmen jacket protrude out in a way of showmanship.

I watch the scene unfold, hoping for an old friends sake that his sluggish ways will seek into her intuition. Once Casey looks away David shows his hands on affection to her suppose to be best friend Stacey. Stacey looks back over her shoulder casting a glare on all her witnesses. We know this means to be quite or to be socially rejected until that day that hat flings in the air.

Oh how I wish I could smell that sweet freedom, instead I smell the stank of another stink bomb let loose in quarter B. B standing for Butt holes. I try to cover my nose, but am too bombarded by the juggling act going on due to the burden that history has once again succeded in laying upon me. I can only hope, no wait, dream that the girls locker room won’t smell as bad as usual, otherwise I may be tempted to gage.

I’m glad to say that my next class is team sports. I love that class for many reasons. First and for most, is Jeremy. Usually I hate to use this word, but for him I’ll make an exception cause he is a hot hunk. Seriously you have to see this guy. Better yet you have to meet this guy. With his aqua eyes you’d just die. His hair will stun you for it is of perfect length. Every strand is neatly placed. I’ve only talked to him twice so far. But I just met him a week ago. A girl needs some time, you know? The best part is that he only is who he is. Sure, a person’s first impression may suggest otherwise. I object to their shallow critique though. If you could see how much of a gentleman he is you’d know that his smile is not of plastic. Maybe I’m wrong about him (highly doubtful, seeing as that I usually have a good sense of what people really are). Still I’ll continue to fantasize. That’s what keeps me here in school, my dreams of having so much more. This is just a spiky steppingstone.

A yellow paper is posted to the locker room doors, it reads, Hope you brought some shorts because today we’ll be a kicking it Beckenham style. A girl behind me moans in aggravation, “I hate this.” She says holding the door open for both of us. I instantly recognize her as the twinkie girl that the boys use to always call Big Brianna. I doubt that she recognizes me, so I node thanks for her hospitality, something that comes around me as often as water hits a cactus. Wow that anologe just got my tongue dry. Maybe Jeremy will want to fix that. Sorry that was out of line. I’ve got to remember that to fling your self out there causes others to repel, but to dangle is to sustain.

“Soccer is the Game and we are to play it till your knees are filled with grass stains.” Coach rants.

Evil thoughts keep spewing into my ever flowing subconscious. This will be fun. I’ll have an excuse to trip anyone that I want. I’ll probably go for Randy first. Yeah that sounds good considering that her followers will trip in a domino affect.

My legs juggle the ball, right, left, right, stop, left. Here comes my shot, Randy is going for it. Kristina is right behind her (the follower). First second, my leg blocks her entrance, second second, she tries to kick it out from between, third second I bend my leg around hers forcefully, you can guess where the forth second brings us. Coach blows his whistle, piercing the crowd with its sharp nail on a board cringing squeak.

I guess that was unfair. But it sure was funny.

Randy is nudging Kristina to get off of her.

Randy stood up, got in my face, and just stared with those dark brown eyes that bore into my like lazers. That girl will never break me. Ever since fourth grade she’s been on this mission to do so. But I know it won’t work. I wont give her the pleasure.

She whispered something to her friend. I knew it was something about me. They couldn’t make it any more obvious. It’s all in the look. Here’s how it goes, one glance at the person in discussion, then at the ground, and then comes the little giggle. Oh how annoying that giggle is. It starts off normal and then rises to a high-pitched, eek. All the blondies here do it, no madder if they own up to it or not.

Most of what she said was out of my hearing range, yet I did pick up the last few words “That’ll… funny… gross… get her.” Now I can interpret that into a few things, none good. The evil one has planned for revenge. That much is known. I observed her every action, always ready for the punch that one-day would be thrown, whether it be given by me or by her, I do not know. Randy went to go do what she did best, nothing. This put me at ease. Now the day could be finished in the usual style. Here’s how it goes. I kick ass in the sport, observe hotties, check reflection, walk home, and if I’m lucky I’ll have enough time to grab a sandwich at the local deli.

My welcome home was quite a trip, literally, the culprit was some foreign object in front of the door. It can’t be my moms shoes because she makes sure to keep them in the closet in an orderly fashion so that they won’t get kicked about. Wait, those are men shoes. There’s no men that… Oh, oh gross. Double Gross.

Mom hears me trip. She turns around quickly and then flashes a sheepish smile over her wrinkle free face. Her cheeks turn cherry champagne, kind of matching the red blouse that not to long ago had been properly buttoned.

“Stop it Mike. What do you think you are doing? I don’t pay you for this”

You can tell mom is role-playing for my own well being. However, she’s never been that good of an actress.

“Hunny, don’t stop so fast. I know you want some more of the Mike Mooch machine.”

This guy is just as pathetic as his job. His plan white shirt showed no style and his pants were lined with holes, dirt, and who the hell knows what else.

Mike obviously is not too good at observing his surroundings. Heck he has probably run over quite a few squirrels in our yard without even knowing it. It takes him two times longer than my mom to realize that it is no longer just the two of them. Once he factors in this little fact he is on his way, zipping past me without a word.

What is there to say in this situation?! It’s not like I can boss my own mother around. That is suppose to be her role.

Luckily, I feel at ease with having her explain herself, which I know she’ll own up to once the undergarments have been fastened.

“Um…” She struggles for words.

Soon her composure is gained enough to let out what’s on her mind.

“How was school Melinda?”

I can’t believe that she was trying to change the subject so abruptly. Not that it had actually started. Still an explanation was in demand.

“Fine.” “So I guess we get the lawn mowed for free now?”

Two could play this game.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, look, he came in for a glass of lemonade and one thing led to another.”

I can’t believe my mom was explaining her sexual status with me. Ew. What did she do, trip, while bringing his lemonade over to him, causing all of it to splatter onto both of their shirts, in turn making it so they had to slowly, caressingly take off each others shirts? Pssh. I doubt it. Wouldn’t that be so, so funny though if someone used that as an excuse? Nevertheless I wasn’t going to let my mom get by that easy, without letting her know that A, it bothered me and that B it was unnecessary in life. She does have other things to worry about in life rather than what guy she is going to get to hook up with. What will it be next, the mail man?

“Stop mom. You don’t have to explain it to me. Just please learn to be on your own already.” With that mom looked over to the picture of her and dad that remained perched perfectly on the mantle piece above the fireplace. It was their wedding picture. He was holding her lower back as she dipped over, making the illusion that she was standing on a different plane, parallel to the river that ran under the bridge in the backround, where all their close friends stood. No madder how hard the unconscious eraser swiped vigorously at that time frame, the memories still remained in perfect reflection. Silent sobs remained. Each tear filled with both joy and pain. The joy of knowing he was now at peace, the pain from the some how selfish need to see his unforgettable smile one more time.

I noticed a bright pink post it on the fridge that hadn’t been there this morning, unfortunately it was too hard to read, even when I squinted mom’s handwriting wouldn’t allow me to interpret its contents.

“What’s this?”

“Your brother is coming home for a visit.”

“Yes!”

I can’t wait to see him. It’s been a while and it just isn’t the same without my partner in crime right by my side.

“When?!”

“Next week, sometime. He wanted to be home on your… (She tilts her head up towards the heavens trying to keep the urge to tear up under control) your fathers birthday.”

The tears appear on cue, which means I’d better get a going if I want to make it out of here before nightfall. I cant bear to witness my mom tear herself apart again, sitting cuddled up on the couch, clicker in hand, trying to drain away the harsh realization that she may never find another as good as dad. This was a daily routine that usually set in when all her chores were completed. Sometimes I think it would be better if she worked fulltime, that way she’d be too preoccupied to think about the past. Besides we could use some money for the bills, our inheritance from pops can only last so long.



Mom has given a fair share of guys a shot. Unfortunately everyone so far has only led to disappointment. They usually walk out the door once they realize that I’m involved. They think that teens mean money and mania, a typical stereotype for a young adult girl trying to find her way around in both life and the mall.

“I’ll be back for dinner.” I grabbed my journal from the table and headed out, trying my best to make a smooth escape.

I need a change. Why, you might ask. Well because I can’t stand to be invisible anymore. It makes me feel worthless. I know it will be really hard to get back on track again after being off the rails for so long, but it must be done, otherwise I’ll keep slipping away, until I’m nothing. This school is going to act as an obstacle towards my dream, because here the people are simply one thing, hardcore competitors. We’ve got the football team that is constantly trying to stay as the number one in the state. The soccer team players, who don’t seem to care if they get as dirty as dirt its self, as long as they make that shot. Then there’s the biggest social scene, the social swans. They disgust me, yet I envy them with a burning fire like no other. It’s like this bumper sticker that I spotted yesterday that said, “I want to be like Barbie, that Bitch has everything.”

So I’m stuck sitting here, on the swings, trying to think up what I want most for this year. I’ll make a list of my hearts desires. Well here’s an obvious one to begin with.

1.) To survive high school (as in grades, working everything out, and helping others do the same.)

2.) Become a social swan. (This one will be hard as hell. These girls are harsh)

3.) Resolve this thing with Randy (again, another toughie, she’ll have to get over herself)

4.) Get my first boyfriend (hopefully Jeremy)

5.) Initiate firm stance (don’t let anyone bully you around, speak up for what you believe in)

6.) Gain some more confidence (hold my head up high and learn to accept who I am, whoever that is).

7.) Join the dance team (preferably as top position, so I’ll get to make up a few moves)

8.) Make new friends.

That doesn’t sound that terribly hard.

Man it’s so damn hot out here. You’d think that it would start to cool off in September.

I see a little kid approaching me, head down, with one hand in his pocket. Maybe if I don’t make eye contact he’ll go away.

“My names Jimmy.” A little boy with a Packers jersey proclaimed.

“Yeah?” I said, not wanting to engage in conversation.

“What you doing?”

“What does it look like?” I snapped back obviously on short string because of the heat.

He just stood there looking at me, as if trying to make me feel bad. Ok, what he was doing was working.

“I’m making a list, ok?”

The little boy sat on the swing next to me, kicking his feet up in the air, in excitement.

“What kind of list? My mommy always makes list’is when she goes to get me food.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“Don’t know. Can I see that?”

Without letting me answer he snatched it out of my hand. This kid was getting on my nerves.

“What does this say? What’s your name?”

“Hey, give me that.”

He jumped off the swing, notebook in hand. Haha, what a joke, a little boy was bullying me. A great star for my quest, eh?

“Come and get me.”

“If I give you a piece of gum will you give it back?”

“No.”

Damn I was for sure that would work.

“Fine.” My feet were starting to hurt; this kid was a miniature version of the roadrunner. Suddenly out of nowhere he started to sob. A girl ran up to us. She had the street style thing going on. I picked up my notebook from the ground, knowing it wouldn’t be to good to stay around much longer.

“What you been doing to my brother? You think since you bigger you can pick on kids. What she been doing to you Jimbo?”

I’m betting this girl is from Bullmount, a city that depicts everything that is wrong in a neighborhood. They have break ins, robberies, and even killings going on down there almost daily. The news probably has a hard time trying to find out what is worthy enough to show. I solute them for their techniques, somehow they manage not to scare away the tourists that visit their so often. My mom and I are lucky that we were able to get something on the edge of town where it is by far more civilized.

“She was chasing me. Then she tried to give me some kind of weird gum.”

“I was…”

“That’s right you better get out of here. Girl I’ll kick your ass. Trying to give my brother drugs.”

What was my number five on my list? Oh right. Hmm let me try this and see where it gets me.

“That’s not what I was doing. Your brother stole my book.”

“So now your saying we steal. Cuz we black. Right? Yeah, I know your kind. Getting all up in our business when we just trying to live. That’s it, aint nobody that’s going to mess with my brother.”

Ow, that hurt. I guess we know where that got me. My eye was throbbing all the way home. Some revisions need to be made to my number seven so that it doesn’t coincide with my face.

Luckily mom hadn’t seen me sneak in, she was too focused on Gilmore girls. For once that show did some good for me. Usually shows like that, give my mom the impression that we should be the best of friends. She’ll come up to me after and try to get me to go do something with her. Sure some of the times I’ve agreed to go out for coffee, but then she just ends up pouring out all of her problems on to my subconcious. So I try to avoid it all together.

The mirror revealed the truth. I looked messed up. My hair was frizzed, my face was oily, and my eye was puffing. How would I ever fit in like this? That’s right, I wouldn’t, so much of society bases their first impressions on how the person looks. I know that sounds shallow, but that’s the way it is. If you don’t come into an interview wearing your best well ironed uniform then they probably wont take a second look at your resume. Ok, well I’m not going to change over night so let me see how I can do this the right way. Stylish sunglasses will settle one problem. You know I’ll have to call up Candace on this one. She’s the only friend I know who wouldn’t mind taking a cheap, cheaper like me, shopping.

“Hello is Candace there?”

“Let me check. Nope.” Says her mother.

“Mom I’ve got the phone.”

“Oh never mind I guess she is.”

As you can probably tell her mom doesn’t really like me much.

“Hey Candace. Are you busy tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Great, cuz I was kinda hoping you’d come to the mall with me.”

“Sure. I’ll see if my mom can take us.”

“Can’t we just walk? It’s only like 3 miles.”

“Yeah, but my parents would never let me. You know how they are.”

“Then lie.”

“You know they’d find out. Overprotective, remember?”

“Fine.”

I twisted my finger around the phone cord, hoping that her mom would just let us take the bus or something.

I’d take the unsafe way over driving with Miss Olsen any day.

“She can take us. You know I’m kind of surprised that you asked. I thought you hated shopping.”

“I do. But I have to. It’s kind of for a project of mine.”

“Whatever you say. I’ll see you around three.”

“Alright, Bye.”

I was starting to get excited about this whole thing. I mean new beginnings have always been in my favor. They’re just so refreshing. The whole thing reminds me of “Made”. I’ve always thought it would be interesting to be on that show, but since they never got my email this is going to have to do.

Something caught my attention the next mourning as I walked into the kitchen. Mom was cooking, not only that, but she was humming. Now this was strange. Mom never hums. She never cooks either.

“Mom is everything ok?”

“Yeah everything’s fine honey. Do you want some pancakes?”

Something about her flipping those pancakes gave me the feeling that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. She was even wearing a little apron around her skinny waist. This was a Desperate House wives behavior. The question is, what is she desperate for? Wait the last time I saw her like this was on her and dads wedding anniversary. What could be as special as that? Hum, maybe she got a raise. There’s only one way to find out.

“Mom can I go to the dance academy?”

“No.”

All right well it’s not that.

Well whatever it is I’ll have to figure it out later. Right now it’s time to go to school.

I hate having to walk across the busy highway. Everyone seems to be constantly reminding me that they are from a rich family and can afford their own car. I’ll pass by when it says walk, only to have some immature teenagers try to scare me by starting up their car as I’m passing by. That’s what happened this mourning. I jumped, they laughed, I glared, and they speed off. Not all of the people in this school are so horrible though. Like the whizzes are pretty nice. They’re always hoping to show off their smarts, so engaging in conversation with them is easy to most. Although it does make you seem really stupid in comparison.

This class was going by soooooooooooooo sloooooooooow. It made it even more torturous having Ryan Dwendle kick my seat repeatedly. There was no way I could make him stop. Thump, Thump. Slowly my seat moved closer to the chalkboard. He did this because he knew I’d never get mad at him. I was trying to write a short story of mine, but every time my pencil would go screeching across the paper. This was not going to work. The thumps got more vibrant as the minutes proceeded. Why oh why did the teacher not notice this? I guess those big spectacles of his blocks some of his vision.

My throat was tightening up. I didn’t want to speak. But neither did I want to be pushed around and viewed as the weak one around my new peers.

“Stop it already.” I whispered in a harsh tone, back to him.

“What you going to do about it?”

Good question.

Mr. Reynolds was keeping a closer eye on us now. Sensing that we might be a distraction. One more word and I’d be the one in trouble here.

The thumping continued harder. Hmmm.

I looked down at his shoes. They were new, they were Rebooks, and they were white. Something told me cutting off his shoelaces would do no good, considering that it’s now cool to be laceless. So then I thought of something better. My ink in my writer’s style pen, was designed to come out smoothly, that way you could easily refill them. Well I slipped off the cover and dropped my hand into position. There was no way I’d get any on the floor with his shoe size being as big as it was. Luckily the ink didn’t touch my hand. No evidence. It was a sneaky attack, one that worked out perfectly. I could hear Ryan complaining to his friend about his shoes. I walked out that door, with just a little more self-pride than I’d walked in with.

“I can’t wear these man, they’re wrecked. Give me your shoes.”

One good thing about always being the innocent one is that no one ever accuses you of doing anything bad. This is an out of jail free card, a dangerous tool that can bring on destruction, especially if in the hands of an undercover evildoer. It can be snatched away from you in an instant if you abuse its authority.

There’s not much to say about history and English today, they were on the snooze cruise.

I skipped lunch today and went strait to the bulletin board. A bright yellow paper was posted in the middle. “Dance try-outs. Four weeks from now. Come prepared.” What stuck out the most was that these additions went in pairs. I’d need a partner, something that I above all did not want. Having a partner would only make it more frustrating.

Soon it was gym time, which meant locker room time, which meant girls showing off their bodies. Literally, girls who knew they were hot stuff would do everything they could think of before placing on their shirt. Tell me, when did anorexa come into style? Never. Please, we all know that curves are curvilicous. So girls with no waist, please get dressed properly. We know you are trying to show off how you haven’t eaten since last Friday. Congrats that must of took a lot of will power to starve your once healthy body for that long. Don’t you know that doing that will make your boob size fall? Yep that’s what happened to me in 8th grade. Eating seemed to be a chore during those days. As my dinners went down the food dispenser my bumps were being belittled. It’s kind of funny how that goes. We can never win. If we don’t eat our bodies go slim, including our boobs. Then it’s the other way around if we do eat more. Boy does life always find a way to kick you in the butt or what? Now it’s a case of choosing what’s more important to you. The two big B’s are at question here. In the end you’ll come to the conclusion that you get more with choosing to eat that way you stay both healthy and boob bombastic.

I jogged out to where everyone was sitting. I melted against the wall upon sight of Jeremy. Girl, get your self together. You’re going to be made into a fool.

“We are going to start our football unit today. Let me see what you guys and girls are made of out there.”

This would be interesting. Girls against girls. Guys against guys. That kind of seems a bit sexist. At least it makes for fair competition though. Who am I kidding I just love observing that boy from afar.

Hutt, Hutt.

The girls were passing the ball like it had some kind of virus. No one wanted to get tackled by Jenny Bouler who has a reputation for getting into peoples faces when it comes to sports. This was really a lame way of playing. The ball kept on bouncing around, not daring to move away from center field. Ah who cares. I was no longer interested in watching our game, when the boys game was going on at a much more rapid speed. Jeremy took the pass. He dodged, from left to right, his body burning hot. His muscels cletched onto the football, save guarding it from the other players. He bulldozed his way to the finish line. Score!

Smack

I’d been hit. This knocked me back, sending little birdies flying in circles above my head. A girl who I recognized, helped me up. My brain was kind of fuzzy from impact so her name at the moment was uncertain to me.

“I’m so, so sorry. Oh my gosh your bleeding. Coach, coach.”

Everyone’s eyes were now on me.

“I’m fine.”

“But your nose.”

“Yeah I know.”

It was a Brady Bunch moment.

Well coach ended up letting us head off to the nurse. He thought I’d need a chaperone incase I fainted from seeing the blood, even though I’d insisted that it was unnecessary since blood didn’t get to me that way.

First my eye, now this, cant a girl get some luck around here? Geez

“Oh my gosh your eye. Did I do that too?”

“No I got that yesterday.”

“What happened?”

“I learned a lesson. Don’t offer a kid gum.”

“Huh?”

“Long story short, some crazy getto freak punched me. She thought I was giving her brother drugs.”

“Oh.” Silence. Man this hallway seemed long. You know how when you have those awkward moments that seem to go on forever? Well this was one of those.

“So… what happened to you after 8th grade? I didn’t see you around anymore.”

Her names Megan, that’s right. How could I forget about my locker buddy? Wow my nose felt bent. I hope it didn’t look that way.

“Hello. Earth to Melinda.”

“Oh sorry.”

“Do you fell alright?”

“Yea, yeah I do.”

“Well, here’s the nurses office. Do you want me to stay?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

The nurse looked me over. Her expression was of utter boredom. This lady didn’t care at all about my problem. She probably hated her job. No actually I’m sure she hated her job. Stuck in this little room with everything around her reminding her of sickness. Ick. That’s enough to drive anyone to insanity.

“Take this.”

She handed me a cloth.

“Don’t you need to check my nose?”

“Does this hurt?”

She put her finger on the bridge of my nose. Her hands were cold to the touch, sending shivers down my spine.

“No.”

“Then it’s not broken.”

Ok, I got the message. It was time for me to get out.

“So?”

“Please don’t say I broke your nose.”

“No you didn’t.”

“You know that was really fast.”

This school really needs a more welcoming staff. Everyone that works here is so uptight. There’s even police officers lining the front door. A jail, I tell you, that’s what they make it seem like. For example on my first day of school I got lost. So I went up to one of the teachers, hoping they’d point me to the right area. All the blue suit lady said was that it was somewhere in the west wing. Who was I to know where the west wing was? The lady was obviously a bit busy, according to all the papers in her hand, still though she should pay a little more attention to my needs, if only out of kindness.

The rest of the hour I got to just sit at the sidelines. That was no problem on my part. It gave me some time to think about everything.

Jeremy was walking up to where I was, making eye contact with me. This was unexpected.

He just stood there refilling and emptying glass after glass of water into his mouth. The suns rays fell on him, leaving him to look god like.

Stop staring. I ordered myself, instantly ripping my gaze away.

Finaly, he got the chance to speak.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you know it happens.”

“Really?”

Ok that is the stupidest thing to say, people don’t just get hit the nose with a football from day to day. It doesn’t happen

“Well I mean with my luck it does.”

“Jeremy get your butt in the game.” Coach yelled over.

“Well I got to go. By the way I’m Jeremy.” He said in a charming fashion, extending out his hand to intertwine with mine.

“Melinda.”

“Yeah, listen...”

“Jeremy, get out here now.” Coach, grumbled, obviously on short string today.

Jeremy looked at me, like he didn’t know what to do. It would be rude to run out of a conversation, but he was being beckoned.

“You better go.”

He ran off to join the other boys.

Even after all the crappy stuff that went on today I still managed to head home with a sense of pride. He introduced himself. That meant that he was interested in me to some extent, right? Then again maybe he was just being nice because he felt bad for a pathetic poor loser like me.

I stepped into the house and was instantly smothered by a cloud of smoke. Ok it wasn’t that dramatic but it was noticeable. The oven was reaping out its guts all over the place.

“Mom, mom” I yelled.

Nothing.

I opened up the oven, only to find that the pot roast was on fire. I grabbed the sprayer from the sink and let it ripe. Mom came into the room and grabbed the hose from my hand.

“Ahh,” I’d accidently sprayed her with it.

“Sorry, mom.”

She looked absolutely out of it.

“Ah huh.”

It was really strange that she was being so passive about the whole situation. This was not like her.

That’s when I saw the diet pills on the dining room counter. She had tried those before. Let me tell you that all they were was trouble.

Her eyes were puffy. She’d been crying, proubably from the bad dreams that repeatedly played over and over in her mind. It was all because she worried too much. She worried about the bills getting paid, about us kids finding our way in life and about her inner fears. You can probably tell what those are already.

“Mom go to bed. I’ll clean up.”

That’s what I did. I cleaned the kitchen. Brushing away at anything that had a speckle of water on it.

Ding, Dong.

Oops I’d forgotten about going to the mall. I raced to my bedroom, grabbed what little savings I had, and fled off to the door, knowing that I looked like an utter disaster, but not really caring.

“Pue. What went down in there?”

“Just a little fire. Everything’s fine now. So can we go?”

“Yeah, Sure.”

We jumped into her mom’s new jaguar, making sure not to scratch the leather seating.

I’d hoped staying distracted by window gazing would allow me to avoid any confrontation with Miss Presley.

Miss Presley looked back through her little rearview mirrow, from time to time just to make sure I was behaving. It really was stupid to think otherwise, considering how well behaved I’ve been throughout my whole life.

“You know this car was the top model for this year. Yep it’s really a winner. What do you guys have, a Ford Escort?”

There she goes. Always trying to make us sound poor. We don’t have all the money in the world. That’s because we don’t need to buy things that are a waste and will probably only be of use for a few hours or so. Miss Presley on the other hand thinks otherwise, “you are what you own.” She says.

“Yeah we do.” I said in response, with a little attitude, just to mix it up.

We passed by a sign labeled Sunnyside Mall (a stupid name for a place built in such a bad area) Exit 34. So it shouldn’t be that much longer. Oh god, I hope it doesn’t take that much longer.

“Well those aren’t that bad. Cheap, but you know your mom.” She said this with a little laugh, as if she’d just made a semi funny joke.

Candace looked at me, in a poligetic way.

We got dropped off about five minutes later. I’d felt a bit clausophobic in that car with all the windows closed, little room for my legs, and a woman’s endless ranting caving in on me. The worst part is that I couldn’t do anything about it. If I did I’d be banned from my only real friend. Miss. Presley knew of this power, she enjoyed it, she relished in it.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok. Now lets shop.”

It really wasn’t ok. My true feelings usually weren’t espressed though. They were no one else problem so why share them?

The mall was busy today. Everyone was finishing up there late back to school clothes shopping. At this time there were sales on a lot of summer wear, so it was naturally expected.

Candace was just aching to know why I’ve been acting a bit out of character lately. The truth was that I didn’t want to spoil it all. So I kept on telling her that I just wanted to try something new, to see if it worked out good for me.

We went into the makeup store where a lot of girls who were caked up shopped. I didn’t want to look like them. It was all too fakey. So I just went with some bright lipstick, a stick of mascara, and a container of beige powder.

This went on for a few hours. That’s when the, shop till you drop, really set in. My feet were hurting from the high heels that I’d been contemplating on buying. Candace said that it would be a good idea to wear them around. You know, to decide if they were suitable for little old me who only stood at 5’2.Let me tell you that they are not worth it. My ankle was hurting all day after the little fall down I had. It probably takes some getting use to. But I decided last night that I don’t have time to drag this on. My transformation shall be complete hopefully by homecoming. That only gives me two months max to reach my goal.

“Let’s look in there.” Candace said, pointing over to a small boutique called Shanel’s Dresses.

A name brand, how fancy. Still I’d rather buy something cheaper that is the same design, but from a local stylist. These dresses were imported from France. They were so beautiful. None seemed to be of my style though. I looked at the price tag, just to scope out how much dough I’d have to put out to get the bread. Oh my gosh, we are getting out of here, before I fall in love with a fabric.

“Two hundred Dollars!” I exclaimed. The surprise in my voice was anything but unnoticeable.

Candace wouldn’t budge though. She insisted that we try on some just for the fun of it. For me that was like saying that you had to ride the bull without getting kicked off of it.

That’s when the sales lady started to follow us around. She sensed a seller. She sniffed us out like a hound dog on a mission. The funniest part was that she was pretending to restock the clothes, while inching towards me, little by little, scoot, scoot. I tried my best to get Candace to move into another section with me, but she just didn’t get the hint. She probably just thought that I was trying to crack my neck.

“Hi ladies. Can I help you find something?” There goes the fake smile. Perkiness. Perkiness all around. It’s spreading to Candace like a disease, oh no she’s lost.

“No that…”

“Would be great.” Candace finished my sentence. After this there will be no more taking her shopping.

“Great. So what are we looking for here?”

Well you know I was looking for something that wouldn’t be short, would compliment my golden locks of hair, and wouldn’t make my skin look so transparent. But that would have to come from somewhere else, my wallet wasn’t big enough for this place.

“She’s looking for a slamming dress for the homecoming dance.”

There she was again speaking for me like I was a little child that didn’t know how to speak. Candace is such a dork sometimes, I love her for it, but for all humanities sake why must she still use the word slamming?

“Well let me see what we have here.” Miss Perky inspected me like a science project trying to figure out what would make me work with the world. She lead us over to a manican, spun it around, grinning at our response.

My jaw dropped open, it was so perfect. This would represent what me transforming was all about, confidence, because I’d have to have a lot of that to wear this. The laces in front would keep what little body fat I still had, undiscovered. The sultry red and blazing black looked like a perfect fit for me. I spun around with it in hand, beaming from how extatically sexy I’d look with this draped over my curvy shoulders. Brillant. Damn I’d hate to give the sales lady the satisfaction of a purchase though. But that would be impossible because I became poor the moment I stepped into this store. This costed way more than I had left from all my past shopping adventures.

Candace knew what I was thinking. She has that weird telepathic thing with people that she knows well.

“Let me pay for it. It’ll be like a really early birthday present.”

“No way. Did you see the price tag? You probably don’t even have enough money for it. Plus I couldn’t”

“Your right, but my mom does.” She got that evil look on her face that I just loved. I’d never take Candace’s money, but her moms would do.

“She gave me her credit card. Unlimited spending. Besides she’ll be too caught up in her Ebay shopping to even notice.”

“Thank you so much.”

My imagination went wild, my head was filled with romantic images of Jeremy and I at the ball, in a fairy tale. The music ended with a boom. Our salsa dancing had brought me to his arms, laying back, defying gravity. He swooped in close, landing a magical smooch on my never been kissed lips.

The lady clasped her hands together loudly, ending my daydream.

“Would you like our braclet with the purchase? It is only five bucks.” Don’t push it lady.



Now we were left to sit on the curb, waiting for Miss Presley. The day was beginning to gloom down on us. We’d spent approxamently four hours at the mall. All of our bags were spread around us reminding me that all my car savings had been spent on a dream, that I wasn’t even for sure would come true. The sacrifices we make to please the soul.

Mom would burn up like a hot tomalie if she knew I’d taken three hundred bucks out of savings, because that just meant I’d have to use her car for a while, once I got my license.

What was taking Candace’s mom so long? We’d been sitting out here for an hour. She said she’d head over at eight. Unfortunately nether one of us had a cell phone. We had no money left either. Oh how not getting my license early was such a freedom depriving, at times bad decision.

The mall had closed. We were all alone. In the dark. Only one small parking lot light hovered above us. We were bate to the creatures of the dark. I’d put on some makeup, and tried on a few clothes that I got when I was in the public bathroom. It made me look a lot prettier, the after affects of this were instant. Guys were starting to notice me, starting with the freaky ones at my seven o clock. They’d been leaning against the wall, smoking like they’d rather not live another day. Puff went the dragon, whisper, puff, puff, stare. They looked like they might possibly be in a gang. We both knew this meant trouble. Ok, try not to notice them. They don’t want anything with us. Plus you don’t want to scare Candace.

“What are we going to do?” Candace whispered, quivering a little. I couldn’t tell if it was from the nights chill or from the possibility that we could soon be posted up on the missing wall in the main square. What scared me was that list was long and full of teenager girls like us. The possibilities were freightening.

The last worker from the mall had zoomed off in his car, leaving us in the dust. Candace wanted to go up to him and ask for a ride, but I told her not too. He gave us the sign that he didn’t want anything to do with us. As soon as he’d left those doors, he bent down his head, focused on his feet, cussed at his empty wallet, and didn’t even glance back. Leaving us lonely girls to defend ourselves.