When I was in high school, I spent about 50% of my time worrying about my identity and berating myself for acting fake, and the other 50% getting mad at friends who'd suddenly changed. B15air's zippy story is about that kind of pain and stress, which I think we've all experienced.
Looking for Yourself
Why was it that in only November, it was just below five degrees? Did it really need to be that cold? Couldn’t the weather gods pull some miracle and make it normal weather for like a month? I pulled on my black furry North Face jacket and double-checked my cell for new messages….from anyone. But the screen stayed the same ‘Go Falcons!’ logo that I had set weeks ago to support my ex-best friend in her quest to become a cheerleader. I was tempted to change it, to a picture of something a little happier, but changing it would be like permanently deleting Molly from my life…which was the last thing I wanted to do. I hopped on my bike and started pedaling through the frostbitten air towards home, taking the long way around campus, hoping to see her. Of course, there she was, it freezing weather with those too-short cheerleading skirts on pouncing around like her puppy on the day it came home from the vet. She caught my eye, and I mouthed hopefully ‘Soy Latte?’, flashing back to the days when we went to Starbucks everyday for soy lattes, no matter the weather. She just rolled her eyes and went on giggling with “The Girls”, Marilyn, Jessie and Lana.
“Emily, you have to understand….I’m a chuh—eeeerrr—leee----derrrr now!” she said, dragging out each letter “It’s cute that you think that we can still hang out, like, at school. It’s sooo totally nawt cool” she shrilled in her unnaturally high pitched voice. She then summoned me and spoke in a quieter tone. “Last time anyone hung out with a loser-leader was Chelsea Swan….she goes to Lignatoyla High now…and you know how terrible THAT cheer program is!” I frowned. I didn’t even know what a “loser-leader” was, and yet I was one.
“Don’t worry,” I had replied “your Tae-Bo secret is safe with me…” I said with a smirk as I walked away.
“What?! Omigod, Em NOOO!!! I mean…Whatevs Em, loser ya later” she rebutted, tossing her newly blonde locks. I knew she cared though. If anyone found out about her Mozart fancy and tae-bo every Wednesday, she would cry, even before she was cool.
That was only two weeks ago. When we were kinda-friends…but now the word friend was farther away than the farthest dream.
As I sped away on my bike, I hoped that I could get something from her…something that was more like Molly. But that would be impossible. Old Molly loved Scrabble Tournaments, brownie ice cream out of the jar and tubing. New Molly liked makeup, boys and parties. She had lost the only thing that mattered most in her life….herself. I abruptly stopped my bike and yanked out my cell phone. I was still in seeing distance of the cheerleaders. I clicked “NEW MESSAGE” then typed the message to Molly : Do you miss me while you’re looking for yourself out there?
I saw her draw the cell phone from her “handbag” and read the message. Her eyes grew wide as she glanced over in my direction. She then slammed the phone back down and glared at me, then went on giggling with her girls. I pedaled forward, leaving Molly-Emily in my wake.
Based on "Drops of Jupiter," by Train
Pretty seamless integration of song and story, right? What did you think of this one?
To review the rules and read past finalists, check out this post.
Topics: musical fiction contest