In the wake of a studentâs suicide at the end of the previous school year, Arlington City High is now a powderkeg ready to burst. The upcoming Student Council Election may just prove to be the match that lights the fuse that brings the school down.
Beth Hill, fueled by pure hatred from the loss of her closest friend, convinces her new girlfriend, Lauren Bradshaw, to run for President. Lauren is hesitant to run, though, as this would put her directly in the path of her own ex-girlfriend.
Ashley Williams, head cheerleader, now dates Spencer Barnett, star quarterback. Tale as old as time. Sure, things have become rocky and her love for Lauren lingers in her mind, but their status as King and Queen of the school will dominate cafeteria politics and secure them the win. Right?
Meanwhile, the Have Nots need a leader and Katherine Duvall is just the girl for the job. With dreams of Harvard in her future, she has her work cut out for her to defeat the populars at their own game. She receives some unlikely help from a member of Spencerâs Cabinet, Tracy Summers, though Tracyâs intentions may prove to be anything but pure.
In the wake of a studentâs suicide at the end of the previous school year, Arlington City High is now a powderkeg ready to burst. The upcoming Student Council Election may just prove to be the match that lights the fuse that brings the school down.
Beth Hill, fueled by pure hatred from the loss of her closest friend, convinces her new girlfriend, Lauren Bradshaw, to run for President. Lauren is hesitant to run, though, as this would put her directly in the path of her own ex-girlfriend.
Ashley Williams, head cheerleader, now dates Spencer Barnett, star quarterback. Tale as old as time. Sure, things have become rocky and her love for Lauren lingers in her mind, but their status as King and Queen of the school will dominate cafeteria politics and secure them the win. Right?
Meanwhile, the Have Nots need a leader and Katherine Duvall is just the girl for the job. With dreams of Harvard in her future, she has her work cut out for her to defeat the populars at their own game. She receives some unlikely help from a member of Spencerâs Cabinet, Tracy Summers, though Tracyâs intentions may prove to be anything but pure.
Beth
Screaming. Cheering. Blood. Concussions. Broken noses. Heroes and villains. Underdogs and franchises. Davids and Goliaths.
It was a tale as old as time. Or at least as old as the tradition itself, which began around 1987. The annual âBeginning of the Year Dodgeball Gameâ was an integral part of the Arlington City High mythos. I did not choose the name and âThe ThunderDomeâ was trademarked, to the chagrin of the sweaty seventeen year olds of yesteryear who wanted to make it a paid event. Thankfully they did not succeed in this pipedream or else we would be forced to cram hundreds of middle-aged onlookers in our already compacted gym.
The dodgeball game, much like the parties thrown during the final days of August, marked the beginning of the school year. Joy and drunken bliss for sweating inside classrooms for eight hours a day, five days a week. It was not a tradeoff I wanted to make.
Nevertheless, it was quite nice to see some of the arrogant little freshmen get put in their place. As was tradition dating back to the days of Ronald Reagan and the dawn of the Dallas Cowboys Dynasty of the 1990âs, something the locals clung to like the local drunk with the last bottle of whiskey in the county despite thirty years of subsequent irrelevance, the âSenior vs. Freshmenâ game was the highlight of the festivities. It was the final game before the championship round, and the Seniors had a policy: take no prisoners. They were the Spartans of Ancient Greece. Any poor child who stood in their way was swept aside like crinkled brown leaves before the leaf blower.
Incoming students with older siblings who attended ACH had the knowledge ahead of time that their fates were sealed if they tried to step out of line and volunteer to play with the dream of achieving personal glory. This brief foresight saved many a child from many a brain bleed. For the unlucky who did not have siblings, did not have parents as teachers, or moved from out of town, it was the biggest mistake of their high school lives.
I sat on the old wooden bleachers, the dry summer air beating down on me. Arlington had a student body numbering around⌠2,200? 23? I had not heard the official number yet. Regardless of the number, the schoolâs athletic program sits firmly in the 6A conference, the most prestigious conference in a state overflowing with pizza-faced would-be Peyton Mannings. Rumors of a 7A conference swirl every year as more and more students flock to the largest public high schools. With the city of Arlington as our feeder city, our school is well positioned to be a powerhouse of a school for years to come. Rumors swirled that our schoolâs attendance would reach 2,800 by the time the current Freshman class graduated.
I, meanwhile, could not give a shit if we had 22,000.
Sitting on those uncomfortable seats in the gross very-much-still-summer heat was unbearable, especially with the body heat of two thousand people surrounding you. Suffocating you. The gym did not have good air conditioning, though it was said to be coming sometime during our senior year during a massive remodeling program the administration intended to undertake. The seats themselves were coated in a plastic covering that stuck to your ass if you wore too short shorts and hurt your lower back to sit on. The fans installed high above were sadly not running on full blast. What air did get blown around from them was forgettable, much like the people beneath them.
I felt trapped by the people around me, their sweaty bodies brushing up against me when I tried to stretch out from the compacted ball I was forced to sit in. It was sickening.
Lauren was the only one whose body heat I could tolerate. I sat at her right hand, the spot where I belonged. She always let me sit at the end of a row if we were able to get those seats. I preferred to sit in the seats closer to the aisles, citing personal anxiety with large crowds and tight spaces and a desire to beat a hasty retreat if it became too unbearable. Most people may not care for anyone with mental health issues, but they will care when the anxious girl has a panic attack and starts vomiting all over the new shoes they just bought with Daddy's credit card.
But really, I just wanted an excuse to get out of these dumb assemblies if I grew bored of them. Which was most of the time.
The Freshmen took the court, twelve little lambs headed to the slaughter. My Juniors had won their first two matchups and secured first place. If the Freshmen pulled off an upset win, they would tie for the second spot in the championship game with the Sophomores. Ties were resolved by multiple coin flips. I would let the little shits fight for their win if I were running the competition.Â
 I could hear the crowds growing restless, ready for what was to come.
From our position near the top of the bleachers, we had a grand view of the festivities below. The Seniors got the special seating atop the stage because, say it with me, it was tradition. The rest of us were in the pullout bleachers. I always wondered if someone had ever fallen through at some point during the years. They pull out far enough for people to hide under and smoke or drink during sporting events. It was an open secret that Isabella Montoya and Gavin Reth had less than family friendly activities under these fabled slabs of wood and plastic two years back as Freshmen. They have since broken up. I had them in my Geometry class last year. It was awkward to see them together after learning of their dirty not-so-secret.
The more preppy students took their places at the bottom of the bleachers. Why they willingly chose to sit down there, I do not know. Were they trying to get a high-five?
Katherine Duvall sat front and center in the bottom row, happily cheering on her classmates as they fought to get us free food. She was easily the smartest and somehow equally most clueless girl I have ever met. I canât bring myself to be cruel to her, though. She was one of the first and only people who were nice to me when I first moved to Arlington.
All in all, she really was a sweet girl. I was going to need people like her.
Behind the preps were the middle-of-the-roaders. The people who just wanted to fit in. Some were in clubs, others were on sports teams. They would graduate with a 3.2 GPA and enough extracurriculars to get into bigger schools like TCU, Texas Tech, or A&M if they knew the right people. More likely they will go to Abilene Christian or University of Austin or maybe Rice or just settle for community and have a kid or three by age twenty-five.Â
The lucky ones will be able to get out of the state and escape the umbrella of parents, obligations, and rules back home. The lucky ones would leave and never look back. I envied them. You cannot and would not be trapped in the hell that is the middle if you knew the right people. The football program proved that time and again. Tom Jimenez and Jason Whatshisface would be nothing without the team. I have seen Tom cheat off of Casey Harper so many times, it pains me. And she is as dumb as a fence post. But he calls her smart and buys her dinner and acts like she is the second coming of Einstein. All for the hope of a handjob in his dadâs car and a C- on his History test. Hormones are a helluva drug.
The real magic happened in the rows behind these gentle souls. The more popular kids took their places towards the top of the bleachers, overseeing their subjects. Anyone who says high school does not really matter is wrong. Dead wrong. They are wrong because they are still in denial that they could not sit in the luxury seats when they were in school. Just like the Bowling For Soup song says: âHigh School Never Ends.â
People hold the memories from these few years for the rest of their lives and they are shaped into the people they become during this time. Some people change, but the people who are âItâ in high school are guaranteed one of two lives: Total burnout who peaks at age eighteen and are stuck in menial jobs for the rest of their lives or shining stars who excel at life and have everything handed to them and never grow as people, forever trapped in the mindset of a sixteen year old while inhabiting the body of a thirty-five year old. A perspective popular can get ahead for a number of reasons. Their looks, their charm, their family, their friends. Any of these fine qualities or lucky breaks can place you in the upper echelon of the high school hierarchy.
I was different. I earned this spot among the elites. Kicking and screaming, I earned this spot and I was never looking back.
In terms of popularity, admittedly, I am a no one. I know this. I was forced to move halfway across the country at age fourteen. Nobody knows me. I doubt ninety percent of the school knows that I exist a full year after I got here. Hell, most of them did not even know my name and made no effort to learn it. The ones who did try to learn it more often than not forget it within an hour of those godforsaken ice breakers we are forced to partake in every single first day of every single class. I loathed the thought of those wastes of time continuing in college.
With regards to all the other qualities and luck breaks, I am also lacking in nearly all categories.
My mother was a workaholic who was almost never home and had zero influence over anyone in the city. Sheâs never even home so I had to fight my own battles for me if something happened. Thankfully I pride myself on my independence so this was a nonissue for me.
In terms of looks, I was nothing special. How I managed to get someone like Lauren fucking Bradshaw to give me the time of day is a mystery. There were girls that could take your breath away just by looking at you. Plus I was not one to doll myself up in an attempt to win the affection of boys. It was the exact opposite thing I wanted to do. I was told I am rather mousey. I knew what was conventionally attractive about me and I would not shy away from them. But I didn't do it for boys.
While I consider myself to be quick witted and rather smart, I will never get into Harvard Law. But why would I want to? Not everyone needs to be Elle Woods. Like Ted Knight once said, âThe world needs ditch diggers, too.â I had no intention of being a ditch digger or a burger flipper or cleaning bedpans in a hospital, though, for obvious reasons.
I had known I was meant for a higher purpose for a long time. Some people are built for becoming chief of surgery, others for blowing their drug dealer for their next fix. There is a very large gap between these two groups of people. That was where I wanted to be. There is so much opportunity in this vast expanse of middle. Anyone that I planned to work with would optimally be inside this large gap as well. That was our base. They were how we would win.
I know for a fact I am destined for greater things, even if I am a nobody yet. I could accept that for the time being. I knew I was a nobody. Another face in the crowd. And I would not have it any other way.
What got me a seat at the table were my connections. Specifically Lauren. A shining city on a hill of a human being. A girl too perfect for words. My reason for living. We met early on in my time here at Arlington and never looked back. Friendship blossomed like a flower at a time when I needed it most. That flower became a garden when we shared our first kiss. That garden won an award in some magazine meant for forty year old soccer moms when we became an official couple. I will never forget that day when she kissed me for as long as we live.
I had forgotten what it was like to be so happy. I couldnât even last two months before I allowed myself to desire again. I hate myself for that.
Of course we could never reveal our clandestine affair to the world. It didnât matter what the current year is; we would be eaten alive out there! What would the PTA think if the captain of the girlsâ volleyball team was shacking up with a nobody whose mother didnât even attend the bi-weekly meetings?! The scandal would ruin the school! And a girl?! Our school would be ruined. Simply ruined.
Our secret attraction could wait in the wings for the time being. I had bigger plans for us than some dumb Homecoming Court all the other kids got to enjoy. Let them have their crowns and flowers and dresses. We could do all of that from the comfort of our own homes. No need for prying eyes or judgmental fools or hateful wretched pieces of shit.
I could see her from my seat, plain as day. The anti-me. As if on cue, we locked eyes the second I thought of Lauren. Like my brain waves projected out of my head and bounced around until she picked them up in her mind like some kind of dolphin from Hell.
Ashley Williams. Where the fuck do I start with this one?
Ashley
All she did for the entire assembly was stare at me. I know because I stared back at her the entire time just waiting for her to actually blink. She never took her eyes off of me. What was her problem? Sheâs such a freak.
I missed the days when she was a mute. She never bothered me or the girls or anybody else. Kara and I made sure of that. Ever since they hooked up, all sheâs done is rub it in my face. All summer. All those pictures on Instagram and Snapchat stories of them hanging out together. I swear she would tag me in them if she could get away with it.
Is she really that bitter over last year? Just grow up and get over it. I did. I didnât have anything to do with what happened. That was all on Kara and we all know it. Why does she choose to take her anger out on me? Itâs bullshit. Sheâs just jealous.
The funny thing is she shouldnât even be on my radar anymore. Sheâs beneath me. Another pathetic wannabe who people like me should eat for breakfast. She wishes she could be like me. Youâd think she would have gotten the hint last year, but she doesnât care. Sheâs too stupid to realize that Iâm going places and sheâs just another nobody.
When she glanced over at me, though, my eyes darted away as fast as humanly possible. I felt sick. If she thought I was staring at her the entire time, I knew I was fucked. We hadnât spoken in months. I still blame myself. It was my fault. She had no reason to ever speak to me again. Part of me hoped that would never happen and I would be miserable forever.
I deserved it. Fuck, Iâm such a loser.
Beth
When Lauren glanced up at the stage, I thought my chest was going to explode. They stared at each other for far too long. I couldnât understand it. Fuck her. Sheâs gone. You have me now. Leave her behind and never go back. How hard is that?
âHas⌠she been staring up here this whole time orâŚ?â
I could barely hear her over the crowd. The Seniors were taking the court now. All around us, the built-up anticipation turned to a collective wave of energy ready to drown all the Freshmen before they could even memorize their locker combinations.
âI think she was looking at me,â I said with as much arrogant confidence as I could muster. âI mean, look at me.â
A smile. Good. Smiles are important. God, she has such beautiful lips. I never knew lips could actually be so attractive until hers were locked onto mine. A few years ago, I couldnât get a date to a middle school dance if I paid someone. Things changed since I moved. Now I have the coolest, hottest, most popular girl in the state wrapped around my finger. I wouldnât be where I am without her and vice versa.Â
If thirteen year old me could see into the future, sheâd be disgusted with what she saw. The stranger I am now compared to the person that I used to be. A silhouette of the scared girl who let bastards like them push us around all last year. Never again. Itâs amazing what a summer with the cool kids can do to a person.
Katherine
As much as I hate playing it, Iâd be a hypocrite if I said I didnât enjoy watching dodgeball. Thereâs so much going on, so much excitement. People are always getting in on the action. I couldnât sit through a baseball game if my life depended on it. I went to a game with my dad and it was so slow. One half-inning lasted a solid half-hour. Who wants to watch that nearly two hundred times every single year, let alone play it while knowing the ball might not come your way for an hour at a time?
I felt bad for the Freshmen. It really wasnât fair to expect these kids to be able to go head-to-head with seventeen and eighteen year olds. Looking back, Iâm so glad I didnât volunteer to play on my first day Freshman year. Tom got his teeth knocked out that year. Sometimes being shy has its advantages.
One of the Freshman guys got hit so hard, he fell and smacked his chin off the concrete. He got up and gave a thumbs up, but it looked bad. I wondered when the teachers would step in. Dodgeball is getting banned across the country because itâs so dangerous. There was even a PTA meeting over this issue a couple weeks before school started up again. My Mom was furious when they didnât remove it from the gym program. Just because this is âtraditionâ doesnât mean it canât be removed, or at the very least be changed.
A decade ago, this âtraditionâ was colloquially known as the yearly âSmear The Queerâ game and every Freshman was collectively labeled with that word for gay people (and God, I hate even thinking that word, but it gets thrown around like confetti around here) by the upperclassmen before they could even walk in the front doors. After they got their beating, they got upgraded to the lowest common denominator. Fair game to everyone and anyone, not just the Seniors.
But did any of the Seniors ever get punished for pushing them into lockers and dumping them in dumpsters? Of course not. It took Grace Carlisle committing suicide for an enforcement of the generic lipservice âzero tolerance policyâ that still had a thousand loopholes and special exceptions for the athletically gifted or monetarily privileged. And that was only last year. The news of her death still hurt to think about. She was really sweet.
If there was ever a âtraditionâ that could be changed here, Iâm glad it was that. But we still have a long way to go.
God, why did I get so worked up over this? Itâs a dodgeball game. I needed to lighten up a little. I was hoping that maybe Junior year would be good for me. Maybe make some closer friends. At least a friend would be nice. I wondered if I should try joining a team to meet people. Girlsâ volleyball was still holding tryouts. Lauren might let me on the team if I begged.
From up on the stage, the Seniors savored watching the Freshmen getting pummeled. That was their special seating. Except half of them arenât even Seniors. I don't care where you sit, but I thought the precious âtraditionâ dictates that only Seniors can sit on the stage bleachers.
Just one more year and Iâm up there. I wonder what theyâre really thinking.
Beth
The game went on for too long. The Freshmen had no business being that good. The Seniors clearly do not care, which I found to be very ironic because the first day back was usually the only day when Seniors really mentally show up. Getting to see the friends again who you neglected over the summer was always the highlight of any school year. After that, it was nearly two hundred days of schoolwork, homework, athletics, the school musical, and obligations.
Unless you are an overachiever who has ambitions of Ivy League or come from money and can coast on by for the rest of your life with your unhappy spouse and ungrateful kids, you are stuck in that undesirable part of the middle where I would never go. Ensnared to a future of student loans, children who will love you then hate you until they turn twenty-five then love you again, a marriage with more bumps than a country road, a midlife crisis or two, and a meaningless death with nothing to show for it.
I swore over the summer that this would not be my future. Not after what happened.
The Dodgeball Game usually drew the attention of the upperclassmen masses for one last hour, but this event seemed an exception to the rule. Four Freshmen remained out of seven with five Seniors opposing them. Previous classes were never this sloppy. According to Lauren, the worst the Seniors had performed in previous years was losing three people the whole game. Perhaps the football and basketball players feared injury this year? Pussies.
One poor child attempted to run forward and snatch a lone ball from the center of the court. Two of the higher ranking football players who did not fear injury and were likely the first to sign up for this game, Frank Newman and Tom Jimenez, pelted him when he slipped on the squeaky gym floor. One of the balls hit him in the testicles. It was a pathetic sight watching him writhe around in pain while the other Seniors pelted him over and over and over while the gym teacher half-assedly called for them to stop. Everyone laughed. I could empathize with that kid.
From atop the stage, the elite of the elites sat and laughed from the protection of their little mafia. Off to the side of the bleachers was the throne.
Yes, a throne.
A prop from the schoolâs production of Hamilton the previous year, it was made of fine maple wood and decorated to look like an actual throne. Gold covering, a soft purple pillow, fake gems encrusted into the handles. I cannot help but admit the production department did a fine job of making the thing, even if it was only used in one scene in the actual show. It makes sense that the school would keep it after all the work that clearly went into constructing it.
I lost all interest in it when I saw the boy sitting in it.
Ashley
Yes, the throne was a bit much and it could be considered a waste of twenty bucks, but Iâll never forget the look on Spencerâs face when he brought it back from the music room and proudly said he bought it from Ms. Jones, the director of the musical and the schoolâs music teacher. Charles had been pushing for him to loosen up a little and this chair helped him do exactly that. I donât think he had ever been so happy in his whole life than the moment he got to sit down and act the part of the king.
Spencer wasnât like the other jocks around there. He was actually very sweet. He was kind and considerate. He was protective, but not overbearing in a way that it comes off as creepy or controlling or abusive. But what I loved most about him is how much he loved his sister. Sheâs a sweetheart.
Our high school lives were very similar in some ways up until now.
I had just been named Head Cheerleader over the summer between Sophomore and Junior year, something that pissed off some of the Seniors like Stacey and Elena more than anything. Did they deserve it based on their age? Absolutely. Did I earn it from years of cheerleading camps and team building projects I organized with the other girls? Youâre fucking right I did. I earned this and I could give a shit that the older girls started spreading rumors about me as soon as they got passed over. Call me an anorexic to the other girls all you want, Brooke. Itâs not going to make me quit.
And yes, being a best friend and protege to Kara Alderman all but ensured I would be given the role of her successor after her graduation. Regardless of the politics behind my election, I was still Head Cheerleader. That means something around that school.
Spencer had been the starting quarterback since our Sophomore year. Like myself, he earned it. He didnât do so well during his first few games, but he really came into his own by the end of the season. I was at every game and it was very fascinating watching him go from lanky and insecure mess to being the stereotypical quarterback. A real leader. If the Freshman version of himself could see what he would become in just two years, he probably wouldnât believe it. The acne, the braces, the kinda dopey demeanor. Itâs amazing what some skincare and muscles can do to a boy. He was still every bit the socially awkward goof, though.
He asked me out on the fourth of June at the big âEnd of the Year Partyâ that was thrown every year by the new Captain of the Football Team. So in this case, since Charles was long gone, Spencer. Being the kinda awkward guy he was, he joked that we would have our first official anniversary dinner on the Fourth of July and it would be all American themed. I wasnât ready to start dating again by any means, but it was expected of me. So I put on a smile and accepted that I was having a USA themed anniversary dinner under the fireworks.
We went on a few dates because we were expected to. The Captain of the Football Team and the Head Cheerleader. We were destined to date, lose our virginities to each other, break up, hook up, garner a lot of drama about whether we would get back together, become Homecoming and Prom King and Queen, and probably break up after we meet other people that we are more compatible with in our respective colleges located a few hundred miles apart.
Itâs just how it is. Itâs what was expected of us. You canât be at the top of the totem pole and not have other people project themselves and their expectations on you and your lives. We were high school royalty. I accepted that was going to be the baggage that came with popularity.
But Spencer was different. I could tell after our third date. He drove me back to his place after dinner. I was expecting this was the night weâd end up hooking up, even though I didnât want to at all. I guess I just kind of resigned myself to knowing it was going to happen sooner or later and prepared myself for it.
He brought me inside and, to my surprise, introduced me to his sister Megan. She was bragging about making it to eighth grade and I decided to humor her a little and say sheâs basically in high school already. The way some of the teachers treat Freshmen, she could have started in August and skipped the formality that was her final year of grade school. For some reason, she seemed to really admire this, even if it was just an awkward way of boosting her spirits. I guess I made her feel⌠older, I guess?
For the rest of the night, the three of us just talked and watched a movie (Point Break. One of Spencerâs favorites, to no oneâs shock.) and Spencer made us burgers since Megan hadnât eaten yet. He is surprisingly well versed on the grill.
When he was outside, Megan started whispering to me. âHeâs never brought a girl home before,â she said with a bit of a grin that revealed a set of braces that she would have taken off by the end of the summer.
I wasnât exactly surprised, but come on he was the starting quarterback. How did he make it through a year with Charles as his wingman and not get laid?
âIs that a good sign?â I asked kind of jokingly but also curious as to whether she knew anything I didnât about her brother and his experience with girls.
She glanced at the back door to see if he was there before she spoke again. âI think he really likes you. And you seem really cool.â
I wish I could say something like Iâm not surprised and see if she would laugh along with me, but I was at a loss for words. Iâd dated before, sure, but never had someoneâs sibling tell me anything like that. I never had a sibling before. Being an only child made me wonder what it would be like to have someone around all the time. I remember asking Spencer about it once. He said even though sheâs a smartass, sheâs really going places. I couldnât disagree with him.
âOh. Well thank you. Youâre really cool, too, Meg.â I didnât know how else to respond.
For whatever reason, be it childhood innocence or a psychological desire to have an older female figure in her life after the loss of their mother at such a young age, she smiled as wide as she could and blushed like some pretty boy celebrity like Harry Styles had just called her pretty in front of thousands of other jealous tweens. We talked uninterrupted for the next hour. Megan basically shooed Spencer away when he tried to eat with us.
From that moment on, I felt like Iâd gained a sister.
Spencer didnât try anything with me until our one month anniversary. He was very clumsy, but sweet and considerate about it. I got to check off another box from our âHigh School Sweetheartsâ list that afternoon. I still remember how much it hurt. He wasnât my âfirst,â though. Not really.
I sat here watching him on this throne a couple months later and I wondered what happened to him. He had grown a bit of an ego, which is honestly an understatement. He was becoming kind of a dick. I think he was trying to do it to impress his friends now that they were entering the world of being upperclassmen. Apparently this transition meant they must âact olderâ and this translates to being assholes to everyone around them. He also bragged about our relationship to anyone who would listen. Thereâs a big difference between admiring your girlfriend and proudly proclaiming to the world sheâs with you and you love her⌠and showing me off like Iâm the car you bought with your summer job money.
Iâm hot, but Iâm not a car or a laptop or a signed baseball. Iâm a person. I have feelings.
As the summer went on, he seemed to be spending more time with the guys than he did with me or Megan. The two of us would spend a day together every other week while Spencer was âchilling with the guys,â to quote Spencer when he got home around midnight while I watched his little sister. Iâm not saying he canât spend time with his friends, and God knows I didnât exactly want to have sex all day with him, but Jesus Christ you donât need to spend every waking minute with them.
First thingâs first, I knew he wasnât cheating on me, even though there was a good theory there: Guy spends less time with girlfriend, says he is spending time with close friends and teammates who would cover him regardless of what he was really doing, I end up finding out when he gets lazy, which letâs face it he would be dumb enough to get caught, and expose him as a filthy liar in front of the whole school.
I know he wouldnât cheat on me. Iâm me. Heâd be the biggest idiot alive.
Call me vain, call me entitled, call me a bitch, call me whatever. Youâd be right. I know me. I know who I am. Iâve lived with it for nearly seventeen years now. I was blessed with a near-photographic memory, good looks, and the ability to never forget someoneâs name, especially the people in the movie and television business. No matter what I do to myself or put in my body, I will remember everything I have ever done. Itâs my cross to bear. My blessing and my curse. I know exactly who and what I am.
But there he is, sitting on that fucking throne that has become a symbol of his pretentiousness, and I keep asking myself what happened to him. And what happened to me. And to her. And to us.
The longer it went on, the more I wondered when that stupid game was finally going to end.
Beth
Just when I was about to write the Freshmen off, another surprise. Tyler (I thought his name was Tyler?) was one of the last three Freshmen to remain in the game. Frank had rallied his little band of brothers and systematically crushed the other Freshmen one after the other. One of the Freshmen, a boy with frizzy red hair, managed to get one of Frankâs people out with a throw to the feet that managed to bounce out of reach of the upperclassmen. It drew a loud cheer of support from the gingerâs colleagues on the bench.
Big mistake.
The Seniors charged the center of the court and bombarded the boy until he fell to the ground. When he was down, they continued to batter him until he cried. The faculty did nothing. I caught the slightest hint of a smirk from the mouth of Ms. Kendall, the Biology teacher whose open disdain for Freshmen evaporated when they were promoted to the rank of Sophomore.
While the Seniors were bouncing around and beating their chests like silverback gorillas, Tyler and his remaining two companions sprang to life. They rushed forward and easily eliminated two of the Seniors, leaving only Tom and one other boy I do not recognize remaining.
Nothing made me happier than watching Frank walk up the stage stairs, head hanging in defeat, while the Seniors mocked and jeered at him for losing to a Freshman of all people. Even Spencer was busting his balls over it and made him sit on the floor instead of the seat at his right hand he usually occupied.
In the shock of the century, Tyler eliminated the last Senior and Mr. OâReilly, our beloved Principal, had to run onto the court and prevent the Seniors from throwing trash at the losing team. The Freshmen were elated over their upset win. They deserved it. That Tyler kid was a hero.
That was when it dawned on me that half the âSeniorsâ on the stage were not even Seniors. Frank Newman was a Junior. Spencer, too. God knows Spencer Barnett and Frank Newman were not smart enough to skip a grade. And the other people around Spencer were all Juniors, too. Casey Harper and Heather Sinclair, two of Ashleyâs enablers she was forced to call her friends. Ashley herself was a half a year older than I was.
Christ, was anyone up there actually a Senior?
I should not be shocked that the most elite of the student body have taken up the stage. It was prime real estate around here. Sitting high above the rest of the school, in full view of everyone. Even so, you would think that the administration would want to keep the grades separated for whatever reasons they give. They do love their innocuous rules.
But will anyone say anything? Of course not. They are the elites. The top one percent. If anyone tries to stop them, they will be ridiculed. What will the faculty do? Offend their star quarterback? That would go over swimmingly when he decides to enroll at St. Maryâs for his Senior year and win their very weak 2A-Conference with ease and still make it into Alabama or Oklahoma or LSU or Penn State as a true freshman starting quarterback.
Imagine being the Principal to lose the top high school quarterback in the state because of semantics like punishing your student. OâReilly could kiss his job goodbye.
With only a year left to go, Spencer could pretty much do whatever he wanted. Same with Frank, who served as his right-hand-man and Assistant Captain despite his failure on the dodgeball court. From what I have learned, these two have been inseparable since they were in pre-school. This friendship now leads to the second most powerful coupling in the school, behind only Spencer and Ashley. They rule firmly, but fairly, and everyone knows their place when those two assholes were around. No one would dare step out of line and rock the boat. What can anyone do even if they wanted to speak up against their overlords?
They are the elites. They make the rules. Who would dare stand in their way?
Katherine
My mom always said I had the makings of a leader. I brushed that thought off as soon as she said it, chalking it up to a loving mother trying in vain to encourage her introverted daughter. Iâm just⌠not. Iâm not popular or have popular friends that get me into parties and stuff. Iâm shy to a depressing degree. Iâd like to be popular some day, but not to the levels of Spencer or Ashley. I donât need a crowd of on-lookers and yes-men who just tell me what I want to hear and laugh at my jokes and buy my food. I want people who love me for me.
I already have my sights set high, though. I plan on going to law school and becoming a defense attorney. I know thatâs really hypocritical to say after I just bashed myself for saying Iâm shy and scared of human interaction, but I want to help people more than anything in the world. When I get going on something, I wonât stop. My guidance counselor said I just needed more confidence. For better or worse, I agreed with her. I needed a change if I wanted to actually make something of my life.
And I thought becoming Student Council President was exactly what I needed.
When Mr. OâReilly finally got the upperclassmen to stop throwing trash at the Freshmen, he got booed. After shutting them up, he made the announcement that the annual elections were coming up.
I felt my heart skip a beat. My blood boiled for the chance to get involved around here. Iâve never really spoken to Spencer outside of interactions in class so I feel bad saying it, but he just wasnât going to do the job properly. Being President should mean sticking up for the little people. People like me. The ones who arenât athletically gifted and donât have people waiting on your hand and foot for the opportunity to be seen with you at a party.
This makes me sound very petty, I know, but itâs something I feel strongly about.
American politics is dominated by people who just want to serve themselves. Ever since I really started to pay attention to the news and hearing whatâs going on from people on Twitter, Iâve gotten to hear about how bad things really are for people out there. The reality of just how bad things suck around this country. The news doesnât care because they just want to pop a rating. The poor and downtrodden can suffer if it means making a buck.
Those are the people I would want to stand up for after I become a lawyer. Iâve put real thought into running for office one day when Iâm older. I donât want the money that Iâd get from backing the big corporations. I know I can make it on a modest living. I donât have some grand life goals to make X amount of money by age thirty or be married and have a kid by thirty-five. Give me a house on the coast and a strong position in a law firm and Iâll live a good life. Anything else is a happy extra.
I know this makes me sound pretentious and probably extremely naive, but I do care. A lot. And student council was the first step on the lifepath that I wanted to build for myself. If that means going toe-to-toe with people like Spencer and Ashley, then so be it.
Beth
While some people consider Student Body President to be nothing more than a ceremonial role, it does wield its own modicum of power. Deciding dance themes, organizing fundraisers, lots of stuff that goes under the radar to the average high school student. It looks good on a college application as well, though that is not why I have a vested interest in the position. My dreams for the job are more altruistic than anything.
Being a real leader requires qualities I believe quite strongly that almost none of these people I sweat alongside with in this gymnasium hold. Courage, fearlessness, the mental fortitude to stand up for what is right, not being enabled by hundreds of sycophants who like you based entirely on your athletic prowess and ability to throw post-game keggers to celebrate wins over schools that stand no chance of beating you.
Did I neglect to mention that along with being the star athletes of the school, Spencer is also the presumptive Student Body President, with Frank Newman as his Vice?
Also, as expected, the Juniors won the dodgeball game. The luck of the Freshmen ran out, but heroes were made and the caste system continued with the ascension of Tyler Whateverthefuck to superstardom for throwing a rubber ball at someone three years his elder.
I should be grateful for the actions of a handful of people since we get a pizza day, compliments of the Arlington School District, but I had no intentions of partaking. Pizza is greasy and gives you zits. Besides, I have bigger fish to fry than worrying about thanking some people for free grease and carbs.
Victoria got the last out for our class. I made a note of that.
Spencer and Frank have not technically been âelectedâ yet, but they were all but given the positions at the end of the previous year. Before Spencer was named as the formal âCaptain of the Football Team,â the previous captain, Charles Bruxton, left amid a scandal which rocked the school. Charles had all but taken Spencer under his disgraced wing and taught him how to be a leader and how to be a man. If he ends up anything like Charles, God help us all. But the damage was done before Charles was. He propped Spencer up as the future leader of the student body following what was meant to be Charlesâ graduation and successful college football career as the new face of USC football. Go Trojans. This did not pan out. Shame what happened to him.
The thought of those two balls of wet clay that share a single brain cell between themselves being in control of the entire school makes me physically ill. How far has this school truly fallen? Not as if it was great to begin with. It really is a cesspit.
As Mr. OâReilly, the real head cheerleader of this school, took the microphone stand and did audio checks, I couldnât help but think of Laurenâs future. With her as the perfect candidate and myself as her campaign manager and girlfriend-extraordinaire, there was no way we could lose. I won just by having her as my girlfriend.
See, running for Student Council President is a lot like a game of dodgeball. You can put yourself out there like that poor redhead schmuck that rushed the center of the court and, as a result, had his balls explode and now has to endure a second puberty. Try to get noticed by taking big risks and acting impulsively. Or you can group up and destroy anything in your path, looking like a bulldozer as you go, and getting all eyes on you, for better or for worse.
Or you can be like that Tyler kid. He knows how it is done. Wait in the shadows for the perfect moment to strike while nobody is watching. And by then, it is too late.
âAlright, ladies and gentlemen, calm down,â OâReilly began, his gravelly voice cutting through the collective noise of the crowd of students surrounding him on all sides. âBefore we dismiss for the day, we have an announcement regarding the Student Council Elections. As you are aware, we will be holding our yearly student council elections in the upcoming weeks.â
Jesus Christ, donât tease me, just get to the point already.
âDue to the graduation of Xavier Brendel this past May, there is currently a vacancy in the position of Student Body President. As it is only the first day of classes, no one declared to be running, though I expect that issue will be resolved by the end of the day.â
He flashed a knowing smile at the star quarterback, sitting atop his gem-encrusted throne. I half-expected them to just start macking on each other right there.
Xavier Brendel was Charlesâ own little second in command that he had known since grade school. After Charles left the school in disgrace, Xavier was elevated to President. He lacked Charlesâ spirit, though, and he proved to be a poor leader when his friend left the picture. If heâd just grown some fucking balls, he might have put a stop to what happened with Kara.
Then again, Charles was still around when Homecoming happenedâŚ
Spencer then quickly assumed the figurehead role at Arlington. Xavier did not protest.
âTo anyone who wishes to run,â OâReilly went on, âplease contact Mr. Hardy in room 224 for information and the rules.â Mr. Thomas Hardy stood up and waved to the crowd. No one cared. âAlright, I know you all want to get out of here early. Everyoneâs dismissed!â
With that, the gym erupted to life as the classes swarmed for the hallways in a cluster of wretched pieces of shit. If there was a fire marshal, he would be appalled at the recklessness of this retreat. A fire would result in hundreds of deaths, be it from the fire itself or the stampede of teenage bodies that would tear through these generic light brown wooden doors.
What a shame that would be to see these poor ingrates suffer.
Ashley
God knows I could give a shit about becoming President. Itâs too much work. Between classes, running the cheerleading squad, studying for SATs, driverâs ed, itâs all just too much. Organizing bake sales and dances and fundraising on top of everything else would be waaaaaaay too overwhelming for me.
Besides, Spencer wants it so badly he can probably taste it. Itâs really all he talked about whenever he bothered to spend time with me anymore. Even Megan was getting sick of it. I canât blame her. I donât know if he thought this was going to be some way to make more friends or get into college or what his deal is. Itâs just a dumb club. And besides, he was the Treasurer under Charles and his people last year. Itâs kind of funny how all of that worked out. He didnât even want to run for Student Council but when Charles made a push for the Presidency and said it would be good for Spencer to learn how to lead people, he ended up getting a spot without even running. It basically sums up Spencerâs life in a nutshell: failing upwards. But in a good way. I still didnât get why he still wants to do it for real this time around. Itâs not exactly some big mysterious new adventure he gets to go on. He knows itâs going to be a lot of work.
Still, if it makes him happyâŚ
Our coalition formed ranks around the king of the school. Frank and myself stood at Spencerâs flanks. Casey and Heather walked behind me. Tom, Jason, and the rest of the football players behind Spencer and Frank. Onlookers and wannabes trailed us at a distance. Our entourage stretched the length of two classrooms. I couldnât help but think of it being like the Secret Service trailing the President and his wife when they went out for public appearances. It made me feel constricted. It wasn't like this last year at all.
âCan you believe itâs been a year already?â Frank asked as we exited the gym.
âTime flies, man,â Spencer responded as he took my hand in his. He has a thing about holding my hand only when weâre on dates or when weâre around other people. Never when weâre alone on the couch just relaxing.
âSo whatâs the plan for running this year? Do you think thereâs any serious competition?â
That was when Spencer dropped a bomb on us I donât think anyone saw coming.
âI honestly donât even want to run this year.â
The entire group stopped dead in their tracks. I heard a few people behind us grunt as they walked into each other, not expecting the heads of the pack to suddenly stop moving. Frank stared at Spencer like he had just told them he had cancer or something. This was not how things were done around here. The king of the school does not rock the boat like this. I was even upset to a degree because the bastard wouldnât shut up about it a few days ago. What changed?
âYouâre kidding right?â Frank was as confused as I was. They were like brothers. They told each other everything. How could this slip through the cracks?
âI uh⌠I donât know. I guess I just want to focus on the team, school, maybe find a job after the season ends, you know?â
I couldnât tell if he was just being coy or if he was serious here.
âI thought your dad was, like, totally loaded,â Heather chimed in. She had a habit of stating the obvious that nobody wanted to bring up. Not a complete airhead, but not exactly âself-awareâ at times.
âDonât get me wrong, he is,â he assured us, âbut Iâd just like to be able to provide for myself and not rely on him all the time, you know?â
Frank wasnât convinced. âThat wonât be for a couple months though. You have plenty of time to be the King.â He pointed up to the crown on Spencerâs head.
How could I forget the fucking crown Frank got him as a joke. When he brought it out at Spencerâs âEnd of Summer Bashâ a couple days before school started, I was so embarrassed. More embarrassed for him than anything. Why would he do this? It's moronic. Anyone else in the entire school would be laughed at to their face. But Spencer gets a free pass because heâs him.
Spencer took his crown off and studied it. Some Freshman I didnât recognize ran over and held up a pillow for him to place it on. I guess he must be someoneâs little brother. Spencer carefully put the crown on the pillow, as though it was the Crown Jewels of the Royal Family. The little Freshman bowed to his master and hurried away.
What the fuck is happening around here?
âI guess Iâm just tired of being in charge. Quarterback, President, maybe Homecoming Kingââ
âEasily Homecoming King,â Frank assured him as a grin began to grow.
âOh you know it, man.â He looked down at me. I guess he expected a kiss, but I was not in the mood now. He got the hint and looked away as quickly as possible. âBut uh⌠I guess I just need a break, you know?â
Iâd finally had enough of this crap. I still donât know if he was just screwing around or if he was being serious, but I was sick of being stuck in the middle. My head was swimming in this crowd of people. I had a present waiting inside my purse that was begging to be opened and I needed this to end so I could get away from all of⌠this. If he wants me to be a Jackie and just serve as eye candy and a status symbol, fine, Iâll be the best fuckinâ Jackie possible.
âSpeaking of Homecoming King, you better have a kick-ass way of asking me this year.â
I wasnât above raising my voice an octave higher and puffing out my chest so the boys do what I want. Iâve even caught Frank staring on occasion and he proudly stated he would never go after his friendsâ girlfriends or even exes. Nevertheless, if there was ever any way to shut this conversation down, it was to bat my eyelashes and change the subject myself.
âOf course I will, babe, you know that.â
He has a cute dopey smile. Itâs one of the things that I still found endearing about him.
We kissed, though I was not even going to pretend to give it everything I had. Forget appearances, I needed a break from this nonsense. When I pulled away, the whole crowd was smiling at us like we were the Hollywood power-couple on the red carpet. I pressed myself tightly into his chest to give the people what they wanted.
I felt like a whore.
âWe can talk more about it later, but we need to make a decision and talk to Hardy,â Frank told him. âSo are you in?â
Spencer took a second. I could feel him stop breathing as he thought it over in his head. It was a weird quirk about him, like when Michael Jordan would stick his tongue out while playing. I donât know if it makes him focus more or what, but I worry heâs going to pass out one of these times.
Eventually, he exhaled. It was more of a relenting sigh. âAlright, yeah, Iâm in.â
Frank gave him a high-five and pulled him in for a hug. I got crushed between them. I couldnât tell if it was part of the joke or if he genuinely forgot I had just been holding him. Either way, Frank reeked of body spray and I needed a shower now more than ever. More high fives between the football players and I found myself being dragged along to Hardyâs room.
Katherine
I knew exactly what I was up against when I overheard Frank and Spencer talking. Shouting was a better way to describe it, really. Itâs not like it was exactly a secret that Spencer would be running, but just getting the confirmation from the guys themselves made my stomach clench with anxiety. How could I get up on a stage and say Iâm a better choice than the star quarterback? The team has been rumored to be contenders for the State Title all summer. If Spencer wins that, heâd be a high school football legend.
Who am I?
I maneuvered through the mass of bodies until I finally reached my locker. The Juniors were lucky enough to have lockers near the gym so I wouldnât need to wait for long before I got to leave. I hated the crowd and wanted nothing more than to just get outside and board the bus.
I almost fell over when Beth Hill ran into me. She was a skinny little thing, only about five-two, and Iâm nearly a head taller than her. But she was walking with purpose and I thought I was going down when we collided. I could feel the people around us staring and my cheeks turned bright red. I hate being the center of attention.
âOw, shit,â Beth groaned. I could see her glare up at me, but it faded quickly. I could tell she felt as badly as I did. But for a second there, she looked like she wanted to stab me.
âOh my gosh, Iâm so sorry, Beth!â
âNo, youâre fine,â she muttered. âThese idiots need to learn how to stay on one side of the hall.â
Spencerâs entourage took up the length of the hallway. Anyone who wasn't already in it either moved aside at the mere sight of the incoming horde or joined in as followers of the followers. Beth and I nearly got run over by some of the football players while we talked. We both glared at the back of their heads as they walked away, oblivious to what they almost did.
âSeriously though,â I said while glaring at the jocks. âSo whatâs going on? How was your summer?â
âSummer was good. Spent most of it relaxing or hanging out with Lauren. Really fun.â
To put it bluntly, Beth and I werenât exactly âfriends," per say. We talked sometimes during Sophomore year, but it was the same deal with Spencer with it only being a classroom friendship. I remember when she first came to Arlington. She was such a quiet girl. I felt bad for her. She really didnât seem to want to make friends, though. She clearly hated small talk.
Everyone knew she was best friends with Grace, though, and that put her in the crosshairs of people that didnât even know she existed until they caught them eating lunch together outside one day. Then Grace died and Beth just stopped talking to other people altogether for the last few weeks of school. Things got really good for her when she met Lauren, though. I can tell theyâre very close. Sheâs probably the only person I ever see her really hanging out with anymore. Theyâre basically inseparable.
âThat sounds awesome,â I said with a smile. Even if we werenât friends now doesnât mean we couldnât be later. Plus she is a potential voter⌠âI spent most of it hanging with friends and working at a little antique shop downtown.â
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to find Lauren beaming at me.
âKate! Ahh, itâs so nice to see you!â
We happily hugged one another. She smelled like vanilla. I asked her what kind of lotion she was wearing and where I could buy it because it was heavenly. She was the sweetest girl Iâd ever met in my entire life and happily showed me the place and the exact brand on the website.
Beth
The first thing that I would need to do was actually convince Lauren to run for President. We had briefly discussed the idea in between rounds of a heavy makeout session at her place a few weeks prior. She was more concerned with spending quality time with me than worrying about the vast opportunities that this position could yield in her future, particularly for her college applications. Realizing there was no sense in pressing the matter even further, I gave up. I felt my protests would shut her out completely and we would be left in a situation where neither of us was satisfied.
I know this girl. I know how she thinks, how she reacts, how to convince her to listen to reason. While I was stuck as the now-third wheel in a conversation with Katherine Duvall I never intended to start to begin with, I could not help but steal glances at Lauren. It is unfortunately all I can do in this lifetime, but come graduation we would not need to fear anymore. We could be out together without fear of reprisal. Right now just wasnât a good time to become the openly gay âit coupleâ in school, especially in the wake of an election. It is not strategic. Who knows how people would react. And what do I look like? Harvey Milk?
How can I even begin to describe this girl to someone who hasnât met her?
Lauren Bradshaw. Lean. Blonde. An Aphrodite-incarnate. My muse. The most popular girl in our grade, save Ashley Williams, but that would not necessarily be hard to fix. She captains the volleyball team and could have been Head Cheerleader if she had spent all of Sophomore year sucking Kara Alderman's dick, but she decided to leave that job to Ashley. She also has aspirations for the Presidency, whether she will admit it or not. I promised her I would do anything for her the night we exchanged I love yous.
Helping her win Student Council President is childâs play.
Lauren awkwardly rubbed her hands together. She always did this when she was nervous or embarrassed. âI donât really want to bragââ
âNo, please, brag away!â
I wasnât sure how to feel about Katherineâs insistence on hearing about Laurenâs summer. Was she really this desperate for conversation?
âWell, I played a lot of volleyball aaaaand got looked at by scouts from the University of Texas!â
âWhat?! Thatâs amazing! Are you going to commit there?â
âIâm still thinking about it,â Lauren admitted. âI have all year to decide. Commitments donât start until next year. All I can do now is make a soft commit.â
Just like our relationship⌠That was dumb and inappropriate. I apologize.
âWell if you end up going there, save me a seat,â Katherine proudly commanded. âAhh! Iâm so happy for you!â
Katherine Duvall was a sweet girl. Very calm, very smart. Kind of like a celebrityâs purse dog, except with much better hair and probably a better parent. Apparently she wants to become a lawyer and possibly run for office one day. That usually begins by winning an election here in high school. Unfortunately for her, she would be going up against my Lauren to do it. I have no quarrel with her, but if she assumes she can beat my Lauren when the voting begins, I will snap her in half like the walking toothpick she is.
But until I was absolutely sure of her intentions, I was going to need to befriend her.
âI am as well,â I chimed in with feigned interest. I was very happy for Lauren, that much is true. But the full truth is I just donât see this being a part of our future. I have much more grandiose ambitions for our future. And those do not involve the volleyball team after we gain their votes in the upcoming election. âShe has such a bright future ahead of her.â
Lauren smiled a little. A smile that only we understood.
Now for the kill.
âI still canât believe itâs already our Junior year,â I said casually. âI spent all summer thinking about how itâs going to be around here when my best friend becomes President.â
That was all I needed to see. The slightest hint of fear. The slightest quiver in Katherineâs confidence. Her smile cracked like an icy lake. All it would take is pressing the issue and the entire sheet would collapse. But I do not need to crush her confidence completely. We could use a strong third party for now. Someone to rally the wannabes and failures that can relate to Katherine Duvall on a spiritual level. And when we no longer need her, she could be a powerful ally that we can easily manipulate.
She will serve for now.
âOh, did you plan on running?â Kathrine asked, her attempt at hiding her disappointment going expectedly poorly.
âWell, ha, um⌠I mean, I thought about it and all my friends say I should, but Iâm still on the fence about it for now.â Again, she was rubbing her hands together. She will need to work on that. It is extremely obvious.
âYou would be a fantastic President,â I assured her. âDonât you agree, Katherine?â
âOh, yea-yeah, absolutely.â Katherineâs disappointment gave way to friendly support. âYouâre such a sweet person, you totally deserve it!â
Lauren smiled and gave Katherineâs hand a squeeze. âAww, Kate! Thatâs so sweet of you! Thank you so much! Iâll definitely think about it.â
Katherine gave her the weakest smile I have ever seen in my life. Despite my anxieties of this blowing up in my face, this conversation proved to be fruitful after all.
âWell I guess I had better get going,â Kate said as she was already walking away. âDonât want to miss my bus.â She gave a little chuckle.
âBye, Kate!â
I admired Laurenâs enthusiasm to become everyoneâs friend. It was a trait I did not possess. Not that I am physically unable to be friendly with others. Speaking to people and learning how they operate is one of my favorite pastimes. I just choose to not waste what precious time I have on this Earth engaging with people I do not believe worthy of my time. We only live for so long. Why waste it with ignorance and stupidity?
Katherine
Getting the news that Lauren Bradshaw of all people was going to be running for President was an arrow straight through the heart.
Thereâs always a chance I could have gone one-on-one against Spencer, slim as it might be, but against Lauren, too? Lauren is pretty and popular and pretty much everyone loves her. Thereâs no way I could ever stand a chance against them both. If anyone around here was sick of Spencer and the way the guys run the school, I could have been the person they voted for in protest. But now Lauren was running and who would realistically vote for me over her. Letâs be serious here.
Maybe I should just have dropped out while I was ahead. But then how do I explain to my parents and my councilor why I quit as early as I did?
Sorry I dropped out before the election even began. I wasnât in the mood to get my brains bashed in between two rocks for some dumb popularity contest I stood no chance of winning to to begin with.
One day into running and I already felt like garbage. So much for building confidenceâŚ
But maybe theyâre right. Maybe I need this as a life lesson or something. Worst comes to worst, Iâm sure Lauren would let me be one of her staff members. Sheâs a sweetheart, Iâm sure sheâd understand why I want this so bad. Treasurer or Secretary or something else would still look good on a college application. Plus Iâm only a Junior so thereâs still a whole year to try to run again. Or just settle for Class Rep and hope somebody like Victoria or Casey or Heather blows me out of the water and be done with it.
But Spencer? As if. Heâll just give the jobs to his buddies and probably relegate all the actual work to Ashley or that other girl, Tracy. Itâs not like they didnât do the exact same thing when Charles was the President and he turned the place into a frat house. Spencer probably doesnât even know what a Treasurer does and heâs still the incumbent from last year!
High school is so unfair.
Beth
After the conversation with Katherine proved more productive than I could have ever anticipated, I escorted my undercover lover back to her car. It was a Lexus, only a few years old. Laurenâs father worked in the oil business. He was a regular J.R. Ewing and he had the money to spend on his little Princess. Giving his daughter a car for both her sixteenth birthday and for being scouted by major Division-1 schools was not so much as a drop in the bucket for him.
Lauren gave me a ride to school. Everyone came out to see her fine new ride. I think that was the first time I had ever seen her flaunt her wealth before. Lauren was not the type to just throw wads of cash around like a Vegas blackjack savant. She was careful to keep her status as a bonafide one-percenter fairly quiet. She told me that she felt like she was bragging whenever she just casually paid for dinners or for gas for her friends if they needed cash. I made sure not to make a big deal over the fact that she lives in a mansion on the very rich fringes of the school district. It has to be worth somewhere in the eight figure range.
But her money is not what I fell in love with.
I will never forget when we first met. In the gym after her volleyball practice. I had only just moved to the city a few weeks before classes began and I was walking into my Sophomore year with no friends. Spencer was not yet the âkingâ of the campus. Ashley was only just becoming one of the most popular girls in school. Charles Bruxton was the captain of the football team. Kara Alderman ran the school with an iron fist. Grace was still alive. Times truly do change.
My trip down memory lane was interrupted when Laurenâs car honked as she unlocked it. It was amazing to have a friend who was willing to give me rides home all the time. I despised the bus and everyone who was forced to ride them. It was sadly a necessity for myself at some points, but it makes me feel constrained. It makes me feel inferior.
Enough with the personal reflections. Business starts now.
âWe need something big if we want to get you to win this,â I reminded her gently. âSpencer has the State Championship game all but guaranteed this year.â
âAnd he has Homecoming King and Queen basically locked up with Ashley,â Lauren added.
She was not wrong. Those two âlovebirdsâ had the most beautiful relationship in school. They were the âBrangelinaâ of the Junior class, presumably without the abuse allegations. I hope, anyway.Â
âAshley is not a threat,â I lied. Much as I hate her, she was and we needed her out of the picture as soon as possible.
âSheâs Head Cheerleader.â
âYou could have been if you tried last year,â I reminded her.
She had to choose between cheerleading and volleyball when the chance to play in college came up. Lauren was a natural cheerleader, though. It was like watching a professional dancer when she performed at the football games. I was transfixed. Even though she was on a full squad, I only had eyes for her. She eventually noticed I was watching her at a basketball game because she smiled up at me. I wanted to vomit. She decided that she had more of a chance at a big scholarship as a volleyball player and committed to it full time over the summer.
I still believe she could be Head Cheerleader if she had stuck with it, even if Kara Alderman had chosen Ashley to be her little pet project and groom her for the job after going to a couple parties together and doing blow with her in the bathrooms. The mental image of Ashley playing a subservient role to her ex was nothing short of delicious.
âThere is no way I could have survived kissing Karaâs ass for an entire year. And to be honest, I donât even care about cheerleading anymore,â Lauren complained as she put our backpacks in the trunk of the car. âAnd sheâs also Spencerâs girlfriend now.â
Something in her voice almost sounded sad for admitting that. I hated that.
âThey really are meant for each other, huh?â I asked, sourly. Maybe a little too sourly. I decided to lighten the mood with a little joke. âI wonder if they ever made out on the throne.âÂ
Lauren did not respond. She did not even crack a smile. I felt like she was having bad memories. I could feel it just from the look on her face. I knew they used to be an item, same as us, except it got messy. Lauren never discussed it with me, but I filled in the blanks. Context clues can solve almost any mystery. Deciding I had to act fast before she got herself sad and possibly unwilling to go against her old flame, I went for the kill.
âAlright, enough about those idiots. Is anybody at your house right now?â
A small devilish smile began to grow between her cheeks. âWhy do you ask?â
I gave a quick glance around the parking lot. No one is near enough to see us. I love the ignorance of others. Before Lauren could react, I leaned in and kissed her. She tasted like strawberry. It was my favorite of her lip glosses. Lauren enjoyed it for a glorious moment before opening her eyes and looking around the parking lot in panic. She quickly pulled away.
âLetâs go before someone sees us,â she whispered as she hurried into the driverâs seat.
âArenât we eager?â I teased.
Lauren quickly waved at me from inside the car. âLetâs go! Come on!â
It takes a little convincing to get some people to do what you want. A little motivation can get people moving. Money, gifts, dinner. Motivating Lauren is very simple if you know her well enough. I know her like David Duke knows dirty words for Jewish people.
I barely got inside before Lauren put it in reverse and began to drive off. She already had the sunroof open and I felt the urge to stand up and look outside like some California skank. Putting my hair down was something I rarely indulged in. But something about Lauren made me want to let my guard down. She was special like that. No one else had ever made me feel so free.
What I saw from inside the car as I prepared to stick my head out the roof made me feel better than any kiss Lauren ever gave me. Ashley standing on the sidewalk, staring into the car. Her face was a mixture of anger, depression, grief, and just plain loneliness. If she was anyone else, I might have pitied her. Seeing the embodiment of heartbreak and anguish was almost enough to make me feel the most simple twang of guilt.
But it was her so I could not have given a shit if I tried.
Ashley
Lauren smelt like lavender. It was some new shampoo she was using. It was intoxicating. I couldnât stop smelling her hair. As weird as it sounds, I nuzzled my face into the side of her head. She giggled and asked me what I was doing.
âSmelling you.â
Never before has a statement been so full of love.
She couldnât help but laugh and just kinda lay there so I could get my fix. By the time I pulled away, I felt drunk. We stared into each otherâs eyes. It all just felt so right.
I had only just turned fifteen, but I knew she was the one. Iâd never been so sure about anything in my life. You could ask me when my birthday was and I wouldnât have been as convincing with my answer than if you had asked me how I felt about Lauren Bradshaw in that exact moment.
I was in love.
Weâd been together for most of the year. Iâd obviously seen her around the school throughout my Freshman year and we had cheer together and everything, but she was just another face in a crowd of literal thousands and I was too gunshy to learn anyone newâs names. We had one class together, an English class. She seemed smart and gave a good presentation on Grapes of Wrath when we had to give a book report on it, but for the most part we just never spoke. There was so much going on and I was still getting settled in the new school.
I went to a private K-8 school for my entire life until then. We had maybe⌠200 kids total? Maybe 300? It was a small school. I would have gone to another private school for the college prep courses, but the divorce kind of sapped our finances. Dad provides what he is expected and then some, but it would have been too much on the two of them and I was fine with going to a bigger school. I thought I was, at least. It took all of Freshman year just to feel like I belonged, but even then just barely.
What really made things better was being asked to join the Cheerleading squad. I was on the squad in grade school, but it was grade school cheerleading and I quit after seventh grade. I decided that I wanted to focus on myself as much as an eighth grader possibly could and cheer was just taking time away from that. But then I got to high school and was really lacking in the friend department. I got the invite from Caseyâs older sister, Maria, who was the Captain during her Senior year. I had just started spending time with Casey and Heather and I think she realized I was lonely and needed an outlet again. This was like going from NFL Europe to playing in the Super Bowl. I date a quarterback. I needed to study up on football lore just to keep up.
I took to it like an otter to water.
While I was relearning everything I had forgotten, Lauren quickly became one of the stars on the squad. She was balancing being a volleyball player, a cheerleader, and a straight-A student flawlessly. I had begun to notice her more when we cheered together, but I was still pretty green and trying to get my bearings. With Mariaâs support, however, I quickly started gaining confidence and people seemed to notice. Lauren and Kara included. I actually got invited to parties, something I never thought would happen when I was in grade school.
Being noticed and accepted was the sweetest feeling ever.
While I was ascending the ranks of high school life, Lauren was also becoming the star volleyball player. Iâd be lying if I said I didnât really notice her until I saw her in her uniform. In my defense, half the football team were sneaking peeks into the gym while they worked out in the weight room next door. I decided to go to a game on a Thursday afternoon I had off after practice and she was, to put it bluntly, a star. She was all over the court and doing whatever the technical terms for being the best player out there are. I never got into volleyball terminology.
The fact that I ever managed to ask her out at all was nothing short of a miracle. It took everything in me just to force myself to see if she was interested and just ask her out. We had been talking for a while and even though I suspected she was like me, I couldnât be sure. When she actually said yes, I almost screamed with joy and then just died of a heart attack right there in front of her.
Now sheâs driving home that disgusting little weasel with ratty hair and the personality of a dead rat. Itâs only been a couple of months and it still hurts to see her with someone else. As selfish as it sounds, I hated her for being happy. Bad. I donât blame Lauren for moving on. After what happened, she shouldnât be the one who canât get over it. Iâm the fuckup who ruined things.
She knew I saw them together. She was looking right at me. I wanted to choke the life out of her. Sheâs such a bitch.
As soon as the car turned away and I couldn't see them, I grabbed the papers from my car. And then I went to the bathroom to get high and cry my eyes out.
Did anyone actually enjoy high school? MacBethany follows in the tradition of books like 13 Reasons Why and My Dark Vanessa with its harrowing story of adolescent betrayal that is so professional and curiously dispassionate, it reads like the transcript of a congressional testimony. Thatâs no criticism. Grubbsâs wintery style intrigued me and I couldnât put this book down even if it felt at times like I was skating on thin and sharp ice, so steely and reserved was the formal presentation and calm pacing. Much like Hannibal Lecter, its pulse never raced. Mine did.
Weâre introduced to a revolving circle of teenage girls, all of whom seem to be just about keeping together, despite interior issues that threaten to tear them apart Hellraiser-style. Grubbs gets into each girlâs head with parasitical intensity. I wonder, given the vast knowledge and correct observations he makes, if he is a doctor or psychiatrist in the day job. What each girl, Beth or Ashley, tells us feels so real it is like we are hearing lived-experience. Nicholas Grubbs. He knows.
Yet despite such a hotblooded setting and the genuine, sincerely upsetting atmosphere of the high school political arena, the author never resorts to all-caps, exclamation marks, rhetorical questions or a battery of cultural references, the humour is dialled down to a minimum; the book feels poker-faced, cold to an impressive degree. American Psycho gets name-checked but this book is more like Less Than Zero, numb to its surroundings. We get, and Grubbs gets, that high school is a time of rollercoaster emotions, and an excessive audiobook reader might demolish the bookâs calm exterior, but we never feel anything except cold, cold ice. The book did well in the fridge.
Perhaps no period of life has been written about as much as oneâs adolescence. Itâs the worldâs worst secret that American high schools are hell-holes, Arkham Asylums where âcharacter-buildingâ leaves individuals traumatised for life. MacBethany dives into this snake-pit of upset, hurt teenage girls with incredible precision and care so technical and, it seems, dispassionate; his icy, clinical approach appears to be one-hundred-percent correct