Leather Kisses (Watty Awards 2011)

UNDER © 2010 Jacqueline Michelle

------

In the scientific world, the North side of a magnet is attracted to the South side of another magnet. In a slang adaptation, opposites attract. 

This phrase not only applies in science, but in relationships. Considering relationships are generally based off common interests, its mind boggling to think that relationships can actually form between two completely and erratically different personalities. Following examples: Romeo and Juliet, Tony and Maria, and even Danny and Sandy. 

How is this even possible? The less two people have in common, the less they will be able to relate to each other, resulting in a weak relationship. How is it that the preppy, goody two shoes and the badass, reckless delinquent begin a solid relationship, despite their inability to relate and connect?

The answer: Love.

Although there is no love in the scientific world, it can be treated as an experiment, subjected to interfering variables and human error.

Love is the ultimate, challenging test. Its up to the lovebirds to correctly perform the procedure, magnetize themselves to the fullest degree, or else the experiment will blow up in their faces.

* * * 

Living in a small town entailed going to a small high school. Going to a small high school implied that everyone knew everyone. Everyone knowing everyone meant drama, and no privacy.

Most residing families didn't move out of Oxford, Connecticut due to their love and contentment of the colonial town. However, that meant that the majority of the student body had spent all of their education in the same public school system. Spending eleven years with the same group of people was exhausting.

By junior year we had all had our embarrassing reputations exposed. Each person was defined not by his or her current achievements, but by their past mistakes. No one got a fresh start. No one was safe from his or her previous horrors.

For example, in 6th grade, our quarterback thought Arnold Schwarzenegger was president. Instantly he was labeled as an "unintelligent meat head." However, few people knew that he consecutively made the principal's honor roll.

As for me, I was never able to break out of the "preppy, smart, bound-for-Ivy League" shell. In 4th grade, I won the class spelling bee. In 7th grade, I had more books than friends. In 9th grade, I was elected class president. Believe me, school wasn't my life. Honestly, I would have rather been out with my friends or my boyfriend, Blake Salato, than studying at home. I would have rather been wearing comfortable converse and jeans, than blazers and ballet flats. Nevertheless, after years of struggling, Blake "persuaded" me to accept my label as "Riley Jenner: Top of the Class; Candidate for Valedictorian; and Future Successful Business Woman." Therefore, I did - it was just easier that way.

Nevertheless, this past-lingering, secret-exposing, drama-causing, label-creating, pathetic excuse for a high school had me begging on my knees for the day I went to college. There I could be anyone I wanted to be, I could be the person I truly was - not the person people wanted me to be. I just needed to survive two more years of high school.

However, that was easier said than done.

Escaping the cold, late November wind, I entered the school, expecting just another regular day of school. But from the moment I walked into the lobby, I knew things were different. Instead of the too-loud-to-think atmosphere, the area was quiet, and people talked in hushed tones.

As I passed the clusters of people, I tried catching tidbits of the most recent gossip. However, years of blasting my iPod too loudly prevented me to do so.

Literally, the whispers followed me all the way to class. Even as I took my front seat in chemistry, a group of people was huddled in the back, conversing in low voices. Fighting the desire to eavesdrop, I pulled out my notebook and started working on some calculus homework.

"You will not believe what I just heard," exclaimed my best friend, Lucy Wilde, as she smacked her backpack down in excitement. "Apparently, we have a new juvenile delinquent transferring to our school. He's been kicked out of six schools, robbed two banks, and stabbed one guy."

That would explain all the hushed gossip.

"Are you sure? That sounds like a load of bull crap," I said, challenging the rumors.