"I saw you sitting with Derek and his friends at lunch," Sarah, my closest girl friend, brought up as we walked to our AP Statistics class. "What the hell happened? Tell me everything!"
I chuckled nervously. "I don't really know. The guys just mostly talked . . . they were in their own little world. It was kind of bizarre now that I think of it."
"That's not what I'm asking," Sarah blurted. "How the hell did you manage to sit with them? That never happens . . . never."
"I don't really know. Derek just invited me to sit and nobody seemed to mind," I shrugged. Last year, sitting at that table would have been like entering some parallel dimension. Today, the third day of senior year, it didn't feel like that big of a deal . . . at least to me. Sarah gave at least two shits more than I did about popularity, reputations, and social standings.
For as long as I can remember, Sarah always tried to fit in and be something she wasn't. In seventh grade, she earned the unworthy label of a "destined wanna-be." The middle school lingo may have died out, but her pathetic aspirations never did. Her naturally curly brown hair was dyed platinum blond and straightened to perfection every day. Her hazel eyes were always lined with black liner, and she always made sure to keep up with the current fashion trends. Although she looked and acted the part, her true self always shined through. After all, there was no way she could hide her undying love for Star Wars.
Sure, at times it bothered me. Sometimes I wished that she could just accept who she was like I did early on. I'm not happy with who I am; I hate that I can recite the lyrics to every Bruce Springsteen song and I know more about cars than I do about shoes, but at least I know that I can't change myself. Maybe this year, Sarah would finally mature and come to that same realization.
"Look, I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise to stay cool," I informed her, instantly regretting that I brought it up.
She raised her right hand like she was taking an oath. "Scouts honor," she squealed.
"Ryan Connors invited me to his party this Saturday night and said I could bring you too."
Sarah bounced with excitement and screeched in the back of her throat. She looked as though she was going to literally explode from excitement. I glared at her, reminding her to stick to her word.
She took a deep breath. "I'm okay . . . yeah, I'm okay," she panted as we entered the classroom and took our seats. Within moments, she lost it again. "But you do realize how awesome this is, right? Like this could be our big break!"
I rolled my eyes. "Sarah, you've got to chill. The party is not for a few days. If you keep this up, I might decided not to take you," I threatened, knowing it would put her in line.
"You wouldn't . . ." she lowered her voice and narrowed her mascara coated eyes at me.
"I would," I forcefully replied, tapping my pencil on the desk in an intimidating manner. She crossed her arms and slumped back in her chair.
"Fine . . ."
That was the last we spoke of the party. Sarah wouldn't dare risk her chances of going any further. Sarah was the determined type. She never rested until she got what she wanted. She considered this party her chance to make the A-list, a goal she had for eight years. She certainly was not going to throw away her dream by annoying the crap out of me, so she kept her mouth shut.
* * *
The final bell of the day rang, releasing all of us from our captivity. We moved like a stampede of elephants, forcefully shoving and pushing our way into safety. I waited for Derek in the lobby so he could give me a ride home.
