Bolero | Teen Ink

Bolero

January 13, 2010
By kuh-rissa SILVER, Hazlet, New Jersey
kuh-rissa SILVER, Hazlet, New Jersey
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

If there was only one lesson outside of educational purposes learned in high school, it would be that those idiotic stereotypes do exist. Okay, not at every high school, but I had the misfortune of moving to one of those places. The jocks and cheerleaders ran the school along with the other elites while the social pyramids climbed down to the bottom where the losers, and unfortunately I, reside. The role of social pariah/new girl # 1 shall be played by none other than yours truly.




“Now everyone we will be having a group assignment to be worked on for the next two weeks. I'll give you the rest of today's class to get those started.” my English teacher called out, only grabbing a fraction of the class' attention. “Remember; no more than four to a group.” It seemed like the whole class rose in one swift motion and fell into their usual teams. Well, all except me, that is.



Why should I be cast aside for speaking up against this modern day caste system? Okay, maybe it went into very public outcries, that maybe entailed yelling at a few popular kids. None of this should be put towards coming a leper at high school, to only having friends with those in similar situations. Only those who had social standards also shot beyond repair dared to speak to me. Those who, at the very most, only made small talk during class. So I sat at my desk waiting for those other outcasts to find me on the outskirts of popular town, which consisted of one little mousy kid who, for that reason exactly, was nicknamed Mouse.,Mouse and I spent a total of five minutes discussing our topic until he lapsed into silence.


I just sat and shot daggers at Miss Popular who was shamelessly flirting with Mr Popular, who were not going out for the record's sake. I wondered so much for a reason as to why when I first joined this population. Over time though I kind of stopped caring as to why and became thankful they weren't. It was just another reason for her to get angry about not having everything, and to that I was happy. So putting my favorite hobby to good use, I began making up a conversation between the two;



Miss Popular: So are you up to anything tonight. She flutters her fake eyelashes in an overly



flirty manner.

Mr Popular: Just hanging out with the group tonight. He gives her a nonchalant shrug before



turning away.

Miss Popular: franticly getting his attention back. Come by my house tonight, the parents are



going to be out.

Mr Popular: angry now. I never want anything to do with you. Stay away from me you excuse



for a person.


Oh how I wish that was how the conversation happened. The look on her face would be priceless, not to mention it would knock her down a few pegs. Nothing would make me happier than to have her knocked down flat after knowing the reason why Mr Popular was even less into her. The problem was that that day wasn't going to happen for sometime, maybe never. Finally the bell rang and my current misery ended. All that was left to do was survive the rest of the day. Believe me, it's easier said than done.


__________________________


As always, it being eight o'clock on a Friday night didn't entitle going out. It only entitled sitting in my room after informing my parents, for the third time in a row, that it was my choice to stay in. What they know was that it was my only choice to choose from. Not the hardest decision to make now is it. So after a round of 'No, I'm fine staying home tonight' and 'Of course I'm not seeing
anyone' that anyone, including you, knows about , I made my way up the stairs to find myself where I currently am, just waiting for that certain time for that certain person to arrive.


Oh, so you might have caught the little inner statement being made after the boyfriend comment. Yeah, there does happen to be someone who caught my eye. The one person who actually gets who I am, but I shouldn't be talking about him. I might despise the social system, but I knew better than anyone that having any kind of relationship with me would mean exile for them. Off with his head, I imagine their whiny voices would shriek, and he would be carted off into outcast valley located below their wonderful hill. I can't forget that telling someone about all of this would tarnish my reputation as a firm hater of all things of high power.


He was really the only reason why I haven't run screaming and demanding the enrollment in a boarding school far away. Never being one for a hopeless romantic nature, I just couldn't help but feel some connection between us. It's just when I'm near him he makes me forget all about the drama of school and life. He just mutes out everything I hate and worry about, even though his very being represents it all. Oh, but trust me, I hated everything about the guy when he first tried talking to me. It was always through some secret means. A note every so often which I ripped up without a glance at it, random emails, which were instantly deleted, and then onto phone calls, which were all left unreturned. This guy was trying his hardest to talk to me without actually talking to me and I was having nothing to do with it. Though I must admit after some time, the desperation to talk to me became attractive. It became more of a game for me. When I knew he was looking, I would smirk while destroying the evidence.



What changed everything was the day were he finally had enough and pulled me into an empty classroom after the final bell and he kissed. By god that was one glorious kiss. The best I had ever had actually, but of course I pulled away after a few amazing minutes, picked myself up, and walked out the door towards my car. By my calculations, he was probably standing in that very room for five minutes completely stunned until one of his friends discovered him there. What can I say, when I'm not causing a school-wide commotion I'm leaving people speechless. I'm that talented of a person.



From there you might think he never tried talking to me again, the opposite affect took place in reality. Whenever we could we stole minutes here or there to drink in each others company. It also came to the mutual understanding that no one, absolutely no one, could know about this. As stated before, it would tarnish both of us, and neither of us had that kind of courage or guts at the moment.



Back to the now, I'm here waiting like always, just trying to keep my nerves at bay. It's all because, even as I grounded person, I'm still insecure. Maybe he realized that it would be better to be with someone who he could actually be seen with. Maybe he didn't want to be with the rebel and to throw away everything he knew anymore. These were always the nerves that took over whenever I sat at the same window on the weekends. The only thing that disrupted these horrible feelings were the inevitable call-

“My L.O.” That call exactly from below. My joking title, his little outcast. Nobody else might like to be called that, but to me it was incredibly adorable.


“What are you waiting for? Get up here.” I demanded from my second story bedroom window. I threw down the little rope, used solely for these occasion, and let him climb into the room. Our scenario was straight out of a fairytale. The Handsome Prince comes to rescue the captive Princess. The only difference was I wasn't in need of saving. I brought everything onto myself and was perfectly find with it. And the Handsome Prince, well he came to me to get rescued from the mindless rattle of his friends.


“So any plans for tonight? We could, oh let me think, watch a movie? Play a game?” he asked teasingly while sprawling onto the bed. I rolled my eyes at his goofy, yet charming antics. I jumped on top of him.

“Shut up and kiss me.” So Mr Popular captured my lips and we went on happily in our secret hideout, content about our situation. Everything was perfectly peachy for now.

The author's comments:
This piece gets its name from the clasical song that the orginal premise was based on. From that point it was shaped into this.

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