The Popularity Game

{ s e v e n } Standard Procedure

Dedicated to GirlNamedM

_

The brown carton box that I was carrying was getting heavier by the minute.

"What are you doing?" A voice chirped from behind me. I turned my head slightly, not wanting to move too much for fear that the contents of the box would fall out. I looked at my mother's green eyes as she looked at me curiously; what was I doing?

I shifted uncomfortably, my grip on the box becoming tighter. "Standard procedure." I simply said. She knew what I meant.

She looked at me with worry, crossing her arms as she leaned against the marble post that lined our home. She sighed as she took a picture frame from a table—one of many that I had yet to put away.

"I really don't understand why you feel the need to hide these." She touched the glass ever so gently, and smiled as her dark red hair swept across her face. "You shouldn't be ashamed of you are—or were. You're the same beautiful girl that you were three years ago. "

I shrugged and looked at her, and then to the box that was filled with multiple picture frames, various trophies and ribbons, all of which I had won when I was younger. "Some people might not think so."

I took the picture from her hands and piled it atop the ever growing stack of my past. I moved through the living room, making sure that it was clean from anything that could hinder any unwanted questions. I could feel my mother's eyes watching me slowly, as I put piece after piece inside the box.

"The old Erin wouldn't care what other people thought." She said in a barely audible voice, and then left the room, leaving me to ponder upon what she had just said.

The old Erin is gone.

_

For a self-proclaimed rebel, Jason Matthews surprisingly had manners. He'd reminded me after the museum field trip that we had to work on our science project—which actually surprised me, since all he ever did at school was show up and copy his homework off of some poor nerd.

He entered the foyer after I opened the door, looking around at his surroundings.

Good thing I'd gotten rid of the picture frames. I thought as I survey the side table where most of them had been. "Hello dear." My mother said when she caught sight of him. "It's so nice to meet you. Jason, is it?"

Jason nodded politely and gave her a small smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Sanders." He took her hand and shook it, and I watched with one eyebrow raised. He took a sideway glance at me and smirked, as if to say, in your face, Sanders.

I merely rolled my eyes at him; I wouldn't let him faze me. Not this time, and not when he's in my territory.

After the slightly awkward introductory, we both headed up the stairs to my room, (my mom yelling, "Don't do anything dangerous, kids!"). I winced in embarrassment as Jason chuckled at me. My mom was one of those really cool moms, but that was just not okay.

I opened the wooden door and stepped inside, the heels of our shoes clacking against the light wooden floors. I flipped on the lights, which illuminated the entire room—the sheer white curtains lay against the windows, giving the room a calm vibe.

"Not bad, Sanders." Jason said as he looked around the room. "Pretty good for someone who has no taste in guys."

What did he just say?

I turned around and glared at him in record speed—I was actually surprised that I didn't slip or something. I clenched my fists tightly, "What's that supposed to mean?"