Four of Clubs

1

When The Seven announced the competition, I was almost positive I wasn't going to join.

For one thing, I didn't have anyone to join with. Being shy in a school as loud as Rutherford means you don't really make friends-- you just kind of sit back and watch the show. 

Usually, I didn't mind my loner status, but the day The Seven posted the scoreboard wasn't a usual day. As I watched groups form around me, the entire school bustling with excitement, I couldn't pretend I didn't want to be a part of it all. For the first time in a long time, I found myself wishing I wasn't so invisible.

The lunchroom seemed louder than ever before. It felt like I was the only one not talking, sitting alone in the same spot as always, a few seats down from people who were no doubt talking about the competition. I sighed and took another bite of my sandwich, feeling like the most boring person in the room as I clicked on The Seven's app, ready to rub more salt in my wound.

I headed to the forums to see what people were saying-- It was my favorite part of the app, a place where anyone could post under the guise of their account name. Some people were anonymous, while others weren't afraid to speak under their real-life names. I never posted, but was practically addicted to reading the rants and opinions of everyone else. People say a lot when you give them a platform, especially when there's the option for anonymity.

My heart skipped a beat when the page loaded-- the latest post was from two hours ago and was titled, "NEED A GROUP?" 

I clicked on it, expecting it to say more than what it did: "meet after school, under the bleachers. Be there by 4:45."

The username gave nothing away, and neither did their profile picture, which was of a golden retriever. Whether it was theirs or just some picture they took from online, I had no idea. Still, I stayed on the post, scrolling down to the empty comments section. 

I went back and checked the forum for a more promising option, but there weren't any other posts about forming a group. From the looks of it, this person and I might've been the only people in Rutherford without one. 

I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. Who knew what could happen? Who else would be desperate enough to make a post like that? Would anyone else even show up?

In the end, it was useless-- I'd made up my mind that I was going as soon as I saw the post. For once, my fear of missing out was enough to make my shyness and paranoia take the backseat.

I sent a text to my mom, letting her know I'd be staying after school to catch up on some homework at the library. I felt bad for lying, but it was at least a half-truth-- when school ended, I ditched my usual route to the buses and headed up to the library instead, working on my English paper to kill time until 4:45. 

By the time 4:30 rolled around, I was starting to get antsy, my nerves stirring my stomach. The unanswered questions came back, filling my head with uncertainty. It felt like I was about to chicken out, so I forced myself to shut down the computer and head over to the bleachers a few minutes early, while I still had the guts.