Taylor

One

There were two reasons why Taylor joined her school's hunting club.

The first was that she needed an extra-curricular activity to support her non-existent university applications she was to submit in a few months. Her guidance counsellor, a holier-than-thou and seemingly 'hip' mother of two, had literally spat out the news.

"You have no chance of getting into a university," she had told Taylor, sucking on the tip of the frame of her Marc Jacobs glasses. They were a shade of purple which captured the counsellor's image as a whole - a self-obsessed, condescending woman who was trying to invest her childhood goals into bored students, whilst still attempting to remain conventional amongst a generation where she would forever be seen as uncool.

"Okay," Taylor had replied bluntly.

"Okay?!" she had responded. "How is that okay? Don't you want to attend university, Taylor? Don't you have goals you want to achieve in the future based on the subjects you've taken?" The counsellor paused before whispering, "Or do you want to have a job which doesn't require a degree?"

Taylor wanted to slap her in the face for insinuating that she would be deemed inferior if she chose not to attend a university, a shitty university which would advocate some pseudo-intellectual bullshit her counsellor had persuaded her she would enjoy.

"Keeping my options open is necessary," Taylor said, "and that includes the option of not going to university."

"You haven't taken any extra-curricular activities for the entirety of your high school life, did you know that?" She sensed Taylor's apathy and sighed.

"Of course you did. You know, I would recommend taking an autumn sport. They finish their run at the start of winter, and therefore you have a few weeks before you submit your applications. You can include it on your list!" She was smiling now at her expertise - she could always provide the correct solution.

Taylor knew better than to refuse as her counsellor would begin a tedious tirade of abuse she just did not have the patience to tolerate. She imagined the potential outburst to be similar to the one when she listed ‘Russian spy’ as her dream career choice. At least she was better than Chris, a boy in her English class who had been kept down twice, who had listed ‘Pokemon trainer’ for his.

“Okay, fine. What choices are there?”

Her counsellor smiled smugly as she realised she had finally gotten her message through the insolent child. She was a miracle worker. “There are not many options left for you, I’m afraid,” she said, not a drop of remorse in her voice, “but there’s a few spots left in the equestrian club, the formal committee, and the hunting club. Take your pick.”

Taylor was about to say that she would much rather face rejection from a thousand universities than join one of these clubs. The equestrian club was packed with the finest of snobs her classy private school could provide. Also, she would be required to purchase her own horse which she did not know the first thing about. Horses ate hay, didn’t they? Where could she purchase hay from? Maybe she could bribe one of the snobs to slip her a few strands.

“Taylor?”

If she joined the formal committee she would be making an absolute mockery of herself, and Taylor’s one achievement in high school was the ability to blend in and not cause drama. The girls – no boys would dare to join the club – in the committee were never satisfied; nobody could agree on a proper dance theme until a week before the event. Taylor remembered last year that the committee had shot down all of the cohort’s ideas, labelling them as unoriginal and lame. In the end, the committee couldn’t decide on a theme so they ended up choosing the theme from the year before: Winter Wonderland. Taylor could see originality dripping from the pale blue ribbons and dainty white snowflakes the committee had hung up.