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High School Rules
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TITLE (EDIT)
High School Rules |
DESCRIPTION
What a cheerleader learned from a goth.
[500 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Teenage |
AUTHOR
Ashley Rodriguez |
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
My name is Ashley, I'm 17 years old, and I am a cheerleader. I currently have been living in Mexico but am a true American through and through. I love guys and great stories!
[December 2004] |
High School Rules
Ashley Rodriguez
I yanked my head back, closed my eyes, and savored the chilly air seasoned with the fragrance of cheesy nachos and dripping hotdogs. Florescent lights slowly lit the black night, slowly illuminating a green field garnished with metallic bleachers. Everywhere I looked people were jeering and shouting. I smoothed my freshly pressed skirt, fluffed my hair, and anxiously looked at the stadium not knowing that this night would challenge my conventional existence.
As I went to grab my water bottle, someone brushed my shoulder. I spun around to see a girl with jet black hair and milky skin that contrasted against her dark eyes. I looked at her all black apparel, and with shocked comprehension, I quickly searched the crowd to see if anyone was watching this potential reputation- ruining encounter. I was standing next to Taylor Finks, the school’s most petrifying Goth, and my ex-best friend.
“What do you want?” I hissed.
“Ashley, you can do more than this.” She spoke with a soft tranquility, yet clearly heard over the blaring crowd.
“More than WHAT?” I uttered, frustrated.
“Ashley, chill. Listen, I’m gonna go to the summer program at Stanford University, you know--- the one we wanted to go to when we were in 9th grade?”
I had been looking away, but when I heard those words my eyes grew wide. “The political leadership one?” I remembered whom I was talking to and with embarrassment at my own behavior I became suddenly engrossed with an imaginary spot on my hand.
“Yeah, and I want you to come with me. Just because we’re not friends anymore doesn’t mean I don’t know that you like politics as much as practicing for hours on stupid cheers.”
I hesitantly attempted to meet Taylor’s piercing gaze. Her eyes looked into mine with a gentleness turning my resolve into mush. I no longer cared if anyone was watching me hold a conversation with the girl who represented the opposite of everything I stood for. Instead, I remembered how Taylor and I would debate for hours over abortion rights. I remembered crying when I made the cheer squad as captain and she found a new best friend in her gothic boyfriend. The truth was I missed Taylor, and I wanted more than anything to go to that program with her.
“Taylor, I-I’m not into that anymore. My friends and I don’t do things like that.” I lied, but horrendously, because she smiled.
“Ashley, who cares what people think?”
I looked at the cheerleaders, the job I had worked so hard for, yet understanding the cruel, unspoken rules of high school that came into place when I put on a uniform: cheerleaders do not want to be senators, and cheerleaders are not friends with Goths.
Taylor and I smiled at each other, sharing a friendship that no one could ever understand. The rules I had forcefully lived by melted away, and I gently replied,
“Yeah, Taylor…I’ll go with you.”
And that night a cheerleader hugged a Goth.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2004 Ashley Rodriguez |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
December 2004 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1874
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