Undercover As Geek

The Publication

Vacations for the average students of West Collier High School are bittersweet. Sweet because they get a day or week or summer off of school to escape from homework, but bitter because the circle of never ending gossip is put on hold. They make it up, however, in the week that they return, when the gossip and talk is doubled. It's the perfect time to find out all the news of everyone else. Kids will pack themselves in the hallways before school to spout out as much as they can before the bell rings, and the volume is intensive, even in the library.

I experience this now as I crush the crowds hanging everywhere along the route from the buses to the school. Most people don't acknowledge me until I'm rammed into them, when they turn and give me a scowl. I wish I could scowl back, but instead I just look at the ground and mutter an apology. Little bits of conversation are sticking out as I wiggle past, and I absorb them involuntarily.

"Kaylee said that Joe said that Jeff said that he was going to break up with Laura!"

"Jennifer! Your hair is pink!"

"And she is such a jerk, right?"

"I heard that Asher's mom had a stroke."

I freeze at the last one. Spinning around in the cluster of people in front of the entrance, I try to find out who said it, but there are so many people that I can't tell. The statement leaves me swimming in a mixture of pity, compassion, and anger for both Asher and his paralyzed mother. I'm not sure how the news got around so quickly. Maybe the Natasha girl leaked, or maybe it was one of Asher's other "girlfriends", if he has any more. Maybe he told everyone about the occurrence himself, though I think that would hurt his pride too much.

Someone backs into me and startles me from their thoughts. It's a Senior with flaming red hair. She looks down on me with contempt. "Sorry," she says lamely, and turns back to her group of friends. I sigh and continue to shove my way to the library.

Almost to the library, I hear a familiar round of hoots and laughter. When I glance over, my feet stick to the floor. Of all people, it has to be the jockey group, messing with each other like they always do. Asher is in the middle, his blonde head hovering slightly above the more normal heighted athletes. He is laughing along with his buddies, but I can see that he isn't fully with the conversation. Whenever someone isn't talking to him, his eyes are cast down gloomily and his mouth collapses into a frown.

They are heading directly towards me, but I cannot move. The hulking mass comes closer and closer until I feel my heart pounding in my skull. My limbs will not take me out of their tracks. I prepare to be shoved out of the way or run over. Then the leader of the pack subconsciously veers to the right and they trudge past me, close enough to reach out and touch their crisp letterman jackets. Silently I observe them as they pass, my eyes lingering on Asher.

He sees me when we are parallel with another and he visibly winces. When he looks away, I know that he feels guilty. He's pressing his lips together tightly, avoiding eye contact with me. I discover that my stance has gone rigid, my hands curled into fists at my sides. A few feet away, Asher starts to rub his forehead and he is slumping.

I can't help feeling bad for him. His mother was unexpectedly paralyzed, his only hope at college was through an article, and he had one-- maybe two-- girls break up with him within a week. Along with the responsibility of taking care of his siblings and dealing with a wayward father, his life has got to stink. Maybe if I had been in his position, I would have drowned my sorrows in relationships, too. And if he sunk down to my level to get me, he must've been pretty desperate.

Sighing, I force myself to keep trudging to the library. Even if his reasons were wrong and probably fake, it was nice to have a boyfriend, someone who appeared to like me. For now I am alone, marooned from the UFOrdinance. The solitude is like a cold stone in my stomach, weighing me down and reminding me of what I've done.