The Girl Who Wore Jordans

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Two

I felt relaxed and at as ease as I walked down the hall that had become rather familiar to me over the past few months, since it was the one that led to my homeroom. The weather outside was a burning sixty-five degrees, granting me the permission to wear a pair of black mesh shorts that stopped right above my knees, a gray Celtics T-shirt, and a pair of vibrantly blue Jordans. I had put my hair up in a ponytail, so that it wouldn’t get in my eyes, and I felt like myself again. My mom had always preached the philosophy that there was a direct connection between one’s attitude and clothes, but up until now I hadn’t believed her. Wearing my old clothes made me feel so confident and, well, real.

      Turning into Room 512, a large smile etched across my face for no apparent reason other than my feeling great. For seniors at Madison High, the time after prom was pretty much irrelevant. College acceptances were flooding in (though I already knew that I was to be admitted, I had received my official letter the evening of prom, as it turned out), and no one really wanted to be in the large building of government-funded education anymore.

      Apparently, Madison High had established a few years back that after prom, seniors only had to stay until lunch, for they feared that the attendance would drop considerably if they didn’t do anything drastic. The way it had been explained to me by Tara during one of our art classes was that the rest of the year was basically “fake.” Teachers couldn’t handle rowdy eighteen year olds who didn’t want to be in their classes, so resorted to giving them free periods, showing movies, or going on field trips. The rest of the year up until graduation was extraneous.

      Well, I was going to The University of Connecticut. When I had gotten back from my short-lived prom experience, there was a large envelope on the dining room table with an orange sticky note attached to it that read, “Out. Text me a pic of the acceptance letter. Hope ya had fun at prom. Be back later. Love, Mommy.” Without a second thought, I carefully handled the thick paper that possessed a sizable amount of weight in my hands, and pealed the seal off. I pulled out a hefty packet with a single sheet of paper attached to the front, and skimmed it quickly. My heart rate accelerated as I learned that I would really be going to UConn in the fall. Everything was actually happening. This wasn’t just talk anymore, I was really going to UConn.

      “Liz?!” someone all but screamed, jerking me from my thoughts. I looked up, recognizing a worried-looking Lauren to be the one speaking. “You’re not dead! Thank goodness!”

      “I told she wasn’t dead!” Alice scolded with a roll of her eyes.

      “Did you get mugged on the way here?” Tara questioned anxiously, her eyes surveying me carefully.

      “Yeah, I’m not dead. Why would that have been an option for my possible whereabouts?” I looked at all three of them, confused out of my mind. “And no, I didn’t get mugged. Why?”

      “Well, after you didn’t show up to the rest of the prom, we didn’t know what happened to you!” Tara explained their less than rational thought process. “Oh, and you look…not like yourself, so I just figured that some guy mugged you and then made you trade clothes or something.”

      “Why would a guy want my clothes?” I inquired.

      “Maybe he was gay?” Lauren supplied.

      “Yeah,” Tara nodded in agreement, “you never know!”

      “These are my clothes,” I said, gesturing to what I was wearing, anticipation bubbling up for the near conversation that I was about to have with them. “Can I tell you guys something?”