"All you are is mean"-Taylor Swift

May 9, 2012
By Allison Bartram BRONZE, Wayne, West Virginia
Allison Bartram BRONZE, Wayne, West Virginia
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

“All you are is mean”
-Taylor Swift

I remember how excited I got when I first found out we were going to take a field trip. However, my excitement got dulled down a lot when I found out they got to go too. In fact, our whole school got to go. I loved plays though, so I tried to keep my spirits up.

The morning of the field trip I woke up and began my usual routine. As my dad always called it: “The three S’s: S***, shower, and shave”. After that, I put on my school uniform which consisted of a khaki pencil skirt fit for the amish complete with a navy blue polo with the gold logo. Then I put on my Sperry boat shoes and looked for a belt that absolutely had to match. When you’re a freshman you’ve got to look your best. Or at least that’s how I felt.

After my makeup and hair were totally right, I told my mom I was ready to go. I always skipped breakfast back then. We both walked down the orangey stained wooden steps and got into her silver Pontiac G6. After I got in and buckled my seatbelt, I pulled out my homework that I should’ve done the night before.

“You have got to stop talking on the phone with Dylan all night. No wonder your grades are bad,” my mom said as if she had practiced the line repeatedly.

“Oh my God, it’s just like two math problems for Christ’s sake,” I fired back.

I hated when people in my family gave me hell for my grades. It just instantly pissed me off. Most of the time when I got even a little pissed off, it ended up ruining my whole day.

By the time I got to school I was two minutes from being late and I had math homework to turn in. I was definitely not going to run though. That wouldn’t be “cool”. So, I was late. As I walked through the brick floored hallway, there was thankfully hardly anyone around. I liked it that way.

All of a sudden I noticed the intercom was on and they were at the part of morning announcements where they say who needs to come to the office, “Jimmy, Matt, Turner, and Alli.” Dammit. I already had after school detention and cafeteria cleanup duty. I guess you could say I was a smart ass. Teachers just looked at me with that “She’s going to end up pregnant” look.

I really wasn’t that bad though. I didn’t party every weekend of my life or sleep with a thousand people. I always had long term boyfriends and hated alcohol and drugs. I think it was because I was a very developed blonde cheerleader who hung out with girls older than me and didn’t look at them with fear.

As I got to the stairwell that always stunk like sweaty basketball players I stomped my way up the stairs a little bit bratty. I was not even about to deal with going to the office again, because I for one was going to turn in my math homework.

I walked to my homeroom, and saw Dylan and gave him a big grin. We had been dating since eighth grade but I was already in love with him. I don’t care when people say we’re too young to really love each other. To those people, I say, bite me.

I sat down next to him and gave him a hug. I loved how he barely talked to anyone but me. It wasn’t that he was stuck up, because he wasn’t. He was just shy.

It wasn’t long after we’d been sitting down they began calling each grade down one by one for the field trip. The freshman were called first. So, after they’d accounted that we were all there they let us start walking towards The Keith Albee where the play was to be performed.

I walked along side my best friend Austin Ferguson and Dylan. Austin was a country boy with butterscotch blonde hair and average hazel eyes. Dylan on the other hand, was the total opposite. He was a more urban boy, with ash brown hair and piercing auburn eyes. Another difference among the two was that Dylan stood a few inches taller.

It’s funny that I looked so girly, but I always loved hanging out with the guys. I think I’ve always liked hanging out with boys more, because I grew up with two older brothers. So, besides from the way I dressed, I grew up doing what they did. Boys just accepted me, when it was hard for girls too.

We laughed and talked the whole way down the cracked gray concrete sidewalk. They definitely helped my mood. When we got to the Keith Albee we all lined up single file so they could show us to our assigned seats. When we got seated, they had left a whole row in front of us empty. I remember thinking that was a little weird but I was okay with it because I’d get a better view.

Then, it wasn’t long until they decided to put some of the seniors who were all way taller than we were right in front of us. It was of course mainly senior girls too. Great. As soon as they began to dim the lights I gave Dylan’s hand a little squeeze and whispered into his ear, “I hope this will be good”. I was still going to try to have a nice time. I payed five bucks for this anyways.

As soon as I looked up ready for the red velvet curtains to draw back, Olivia, a very curvy girl in the senior class with highlighted blonde hair, said in a very loud whisper to one of her friends so I could hear, “Look! Barbie wore a skirt to the play. EASY ACCESS!”. Her friend Katie who had a brother in my grade began to howl laughing. I instantly got a lump in my throat and I really wanted to cry. I gave myself a minute before I whispered to Dylan, “Did you hear that? I’m going to cry! Tell Austin what happened!”. I could see Dylan was getting really mad and that he was sick of stuff like this happening to me.

In fact, it had been happening to me since I was in the seventh grade. Older girls just hated me. I didn’t ever talk to any of them, so I really didn’t know them except for the ones I did cheerleading with. I didn’t know why they hated me. But, they thought they knew me.

I’ll admit if you look at me, I do look like a Barbie doll. But I can’t really help that. It’s who I am. But, I was not a whore by any means and I didn’t deserve to get made fun of on field trips, in the hallway, and at other public places. Olivia, who I had tennis with, would even aim balls at me and try to hit me all the time. I’ll never understand what her deal was.

I’ll also never understand why I didn’t speak up. Growing up, I’d always been the feisty one who would tell everyone how she felt without any reserve. So, why was I so hesitant to speak up? I guess I was just less mature and I thought karma would catch up with everyone who was mean to me.

When girls enter high school they have a choice. You can either be the girl who bullies everyone you think to be below you, or you can be the girl who’s nice to everyone and who defends the one’s who get bullied. I chose the second option. As for Olivia though, she got pregnant not long after she graduated.

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