Date: Mon, 9 Nov 2015 05:00:34 -0500
From: Clarity Angel <clarityangel17@gmail.com>
Subject: Choose: Part One

		***emails are always responded to

				  Choose
				 Chapter 1
				Author: PB

     "We should buy those sweatshirts after school today," I state, walking
next to my best friend, Natasha, as I pull down my purple cheerleading
skirt a bit.

     "Before or after we take bong rips?" Natasha says, and laughs soon
after at her own joke. Mimicking her bestie, she too pulls her matching
purple cheerleading skirt down, then brushes her curly black hair off the
front of her uniformed gold colored "V" on the chest. The "V" standing for
the Victor High Vikings.

     I looked over to Natasha and half smiled, then kind of scoffed.
Natasha nudged me.

     "Ohhh my God girl! You really think that your last night on the west
coast is going to be a sober one?! You better hope you get on the right
flight tomorrow morning!"

     I smiled, looking down, laughing along with my best friend who I have
known since kindergarten. Inside, though, I just felt empty and hopeless.
My stomach turning a bit, I can't tell if I need food or not. Although food
is the last thing I want right now, any distraction is a pleasant one at
this point. We walk up the long ramp to the entrance of our Massive High
School, and walk to our familiar group of peers, standing in their usual
position. Taking my cell phone out of my school bag, I see the time is
7:45. Let me tell you something, it's ALWAYS 7:45 when Natasha and I get to
school. That's part of being popular. A schedule. A routine. A
predictability. A mask, while everything that it hides bubbles up inside
and remains completely and utterly invisible to all of your "fans." Even
most of your "friends" are blind to the storm inside you. They just hang
around you because you look good, and they look good, so together, you must
make them look twice as good, right? Dumb people logic. Conceited people
speak a whole other language that I'm not familiar with. I have not learned
it in full, but it usually begins with "I."

	Sure, though, these people are above average or exceedingly good
looking, charming, funny, outgoing, talented, and yeah, that's cool to be
around right? That's just what it is, it's normal. At least here it
is. It's normal to be good looking, it's normal to have Hedge fun owners
and Anesthesiologists as parents. It's normal to be a good singer or a
great athlete. Anyone would be impressed but very few would get bored. Very
few seek more. You can see it. You can see it all around you. Comfort.
People are comfortable. Comfortable with their home lives, comfortable with
other people, comfortable with the structure of High School, and
comfortable with themselves. Of course, I too am comfortable with all of
those things, but I seek Adventure, Discovery, Novelty, Knowledge...I do
want to know. I want to know why I despise the narcissistic behavior of my
peers. I want to know why I feel like I am being conditioned by Pavlov
every time the stupid bells ring for class! I want to know why I can stare
into the eyes of people I have surfed with and even seen naked, and feel
like I am staring at a ghost! I want to know why I have never fallen in
love...never been intrigued, captivated, and desperate for the love of
someone else. I want to know why not even the most beautiful blue eyes
cannot take my breath away. I want to know why I haven't cried yet because
no one wants to leave where they grew up, during their senior year.

	The last bell rang and I finish sketching a doodle of an oak tree
before shuffling all the items on my desk into my bag. I hear footsteps
walking my way, and look up to meet the eyes of my English Teacher,
Mr. Sanderson. He puts his hand out.

     "Here is your essay. Maybe more experience would have generated a more
credible perspective."

     I look down at the Times New Roman font sized 12, double spaced, 5
page essay that took me two months to write, and I feel a ping in my
stomach. Not as badly as this morning though, when Natasha reminded me of
the fact I can't even tell if I'm hungry or not.

     "I understand you must be going through some things, with moving and
all. You're one of my best and brightest students, so creative, and you can
write a killer essay, when you have more information on the topic. Which is
why the grade is generous. I'm going to miss you, kid. Take it easy," he
says, placing a hand on my shoulder before putting the essay on my desk and
walking out the door.

      I just stare blankly at the red "78" circled in the corner. Usually I
would go through each page and read all the comments marked on the sides,
but I didn't even think to do it this time. I just shoved the paper in my
bag and turned to leave. Something stopped me. I breathe in deeply. I walk
to the front of the class and stare at the white board. I turn around and
look at the projector in the middle of the room. I look out the big glass
windows on the walls. The grass, perfectly healthy and trimmed. You could
see the field house from this classroom, and the tennis courts. I looked at
the 28 desks perfectly aligned with one another. I walk over to one,
running my fingers over the dark finely crafted wood. I look to the walls
and see pictures of Mr. Sanderson and multiple classes of kids smiling or
holding objects. They visit so many places for field trips, it's
amazing. Especially senior trips, which unfortunately I am not going to be
taking part in. Sighing deeply, I look down and slowly walk out of my
favorite class. I just barely walk out of Mr. Sanderson's room when I'm
startled by someone calling my name.

     "Bethanie!!! There you are!!! So I know that Natasha told you to go
over at 7, but we need extra time so don't come till 8! Is that okay?!"

     "Uh, yeah, that's cool. I'll entertain myself."

     "Oh jeez, thank you so much!" She shrieked, giving me a quick little
hug before practically running off the other way. That girl, Amy, is always
so bubbly, but never out to intentionally hurt a soul.

     "TONIGHT TONIGHT TONIGHT TONIGHT!" A group of boys chant as they go by
me, nudging me and chanting. I laugh and feel myself lighten up since this
morning. The football team never fails to cheer me up. Those
goofballs. Now, I could tell you about every single encounter I had before
I left school about me leaving or the going away party of whatever, but
that would be another book. At least I made it out before dark, hehe.

	Walking to the parking lot, I see my two seater red corvette. Meet
Jenny. Yes, she has a name. I reach in my bag for the keys and they slip
out of my hands, I watch them fall to the ground. I just stare, which I
have been doing a lot of lately.

     "Dropped something," a girl, a few inches taller than me, says,
handing me the keys. She's smiling real wide.

     "Thank you," I say in return, half smiling back.

     "Bethanie right? Don't think we ever met. I'm Jamie."

     "Hah, I'm not surprised I don't know 1 out of 5,000 students," I say,
the sarcasm is real.

     Jamie laughs too hard and pushes my arm, then she calls me
funny. There's an awkward silence before she shuffles in place nervously
and says "so I heard there's this...party or something tonight?"

     "Yeah. At Natalie's. I can give you the address if you want to come."

     I guess I said the right thing because her eyes light up and she turns
her body to face me, sticking her hip out, putting one hand on her side and
the other on the top of my car, she says in a low voice "I'd love that."

     I take out a notebook and rip out a piece of paper, as I write the
address down I look up and see that Jamie's eyes are roaming my entire
body. Sometimes I wonder if all places are this gay. Or, I mean, this
assertive. I hand her the paper and she holds it up to her lips with a
smirk. I stand their awkwardly, again.

     "See you tonight," she says, then winks. I check her out as she walks
away. Curvy. Perfect. Hmmmm...

     "I'm going to miss you so much! Please call me!" My friend Jessica
says as she hugs me tight.

     This night was supposed to be wild and fun, but was turning into a
funeral vibe with all the "Goodbye's." I really wish I felt sadder about
this, or something...but I think all the attention just kind of ruined that
feeling. Finally people were starting to leave me alone and get fucked
up. Stash runs over to me as soon as I'm free.

      "Oh she's here!" Natasha says excitedly as she pushes me repeatedly.

     "Who stash?"

     "Jamie!" She screeches

"Jamie?" I frown, "What about her?"

     Natasha matches my frown.

     "Well, you don't seem too excited to hear her name."

     "Stash...I asked a question..."

     "Well, go talk to her!"

     "But..."

     "What?"

     "I...why?"

     "Look at her!!! That's why! Annnddd she's totally into you!"

     "Stash, yeah, but like...im moving tomorrow..."

     "Yesss I know! Exactly all the more reason!" Natasha says raising her
eyebrows suggestively.

     I look over to see Jamie across the room, talking to a friend but
looking over to me every few seconds.

     "Trust me, it's easier than you think," Stash whispers in my ear. I
playfully push her away and walk towards Jamie.

     "Hello Bethanie! Wow! You look gorgeous!" Jamie exclaims admiringly,
rubbing the fabric at the end of my pink tank top between her fingers.

     I check Jamie out before I make a comment on her outfit. She has a
tight black halter top on with tight jeans. She curled her blonde hair for
tonight. She looks damn good. I could have said something about how she
looks in the outfit, but nothing propelled me to, so instead I go, "You
too," with a less than thrilled smile.

	A few hours pass and a few drinks later, it's at that point where
no one gives a fuck what you do or who is there, they are just enjoying
their fucked up state. At this point, is when Jamie gets me alone. She's
laughing a lot, and touching me a great deal. She grabs my shoulder and
puts her mouth to my ear, "Follow me."

	We make our way up the stairs and she's giggling the whole time,
missing a step from time to time. When we make it into Natasha's room she's
stumbling all over me. She hops on the bed and takes her halter top
off. Motioning me with my fingers to come here. I walk over and lean down
and we lock in a kiss. She tastes like coconut rum. As the kiss deepens I
feel her bare skin. It's soft. She feels nice. Her lips are soft. This will
be fun.

	I find my clothes and put them on, then I have to help Jamie get
dressed because she put her halter top on twisted. You know, for being
wasted, she sure can kiss right, and she knows what she's
doing. Actually. I feel a lot better after that. It's been a while since
I've had sex. I hold her arm and walk her down the stairs, the party still
alive as ever. She slumps on the couch and Natasha walks over to me. She
asks me to go get a drink with her and we turn to ask Jamie if she'd like
one but her eyes are closed. Stash and I smile at each other then proceed
to go pour some of the vodka-kool-aid.

     "Damn girl, how was it?!" Stash asked, trying to contain her
excitement, "Was it everything you'd ever dreamed of?"

     "She has done this before. She was a lot better than I thought she
would be. But I'm not sure. I thought there'd be sparks or something."

     "Ha, well. There weren't any sparks when you were fuckin' David,
either. It'll happen. Patience young one...or, you know, worst comes to
worst you're a sexual. Since you've now fucked guys and girls."

     "Girl. One girl, Stash!"

     "Yes we know, Beth. You're not a whore. Why don't we put it in the
paper?"

     I roll my eyes, "Why don't we put some weed in the paper!"

     That got laugh from Stash, who was somewhere between drunk and
wasted. And with that, we smoked the last blunt together that would be for
a while.

     "You know I can't always answer, but I will respond to your texts
eventually," my Mom says before taking a sip of coffee.

     I'm fumbling the keys under the counter and looking down, "Yeah..."

     "Oh sweet heart! You are so talented! You're beautiful! You're
personable and respectful and you will dominate in whatever clubs or sports
you join, which you will. You will have friends in no time."

     "Yeah," I thought to myself, "I'm normal. I can be normal at this
school too. Yay."

     "I love you sweetie," Mom says as she kisses my cheek and leaves for
work. I sigh and trudge to Jenny (my car.)

	The drive to my new school was scenic. Very woodsy. Reminds me of
some parts of California. This definitely is not LA though. This is a
town. A community. Rural. Everything is so far apart from each other. I
have no idea what to expect. I know the school, I just don't know the
people in it, since I had visited during the summer. Where do all the kids
hang out?

	I parked my car and walked towards the school. In big Red letters
you see "Westbank High School," written on the building. Looking around in
the parking lot, I could already get an idea of the economic status of my
peers. The cars aren't nearly as expensive as the ones you'd see at Victor
Prep School, but there is a good amount of cars in general. Most of the
kids able to drive have a vehicle. Walking into school and looking around
the first thing I notice is color. Literally, color. Everyone
is...white. Caucasian. The kids here dress differently. There styles are
less wacky. Lots of girls have simple summer dresses on, or look like they
are attending an interview. No one wears anything see through or
short...wow, a school that can actually enforce a dress code? Where am I?
The day drags on. I made a few friends, I asked them how to get to my
classes. This school is probably 1/4th the size of Victor Prep, it doesn't
even have any upper floors. There can't be over 500 kids at Westbank
High. 5 minutes into last period English, I hear the door open. I look over
and I stop breathing. As she walks into the room my heart starts to skip
beats and I smell vanilla. It's the best thing I have ever smelled. This
girl is an angel. Her straight, black hair falls perfectly around her neck
and shoulders. Her skin so tan, with a golden tint. Her dark brown eyes
stand out against her dark skin, adding to her beauty. Perfectly shaped
lips, kissable as ever. I can't stop scanning her body. It's beautiful. I
don't know what this girl is. Asian? Latina? Hawaiian? All I know is this
girl is...gold. This girl is gold and I need her. She didn't even glance at
me once the whole English class. I was looking forward to listening to my
new English teacher and retaining what we learned. But instead I almost
died of sweating because this gorgeous creature of a woman has to sit next
to me.

     Finally the bell rang, "Hey," I said to the gorgeous creature at her
desk as she was putting her books away.

     And then I died...she looks at me, then smiles. I die again.

     "Hey. What's your name?"

     "Uh..."

     Well, let's see...my mind says;

     "I wanna get closer to you"

     And my heart says;

     "Wow your eyes are gorgeous"

     And they both say:

     "CHOOSE!!!"



     ***Chapter 2 coming soon.