Identifying Sara

Chapter Eight

"Oh come on! It will be so much fun!" Rina is currently trying to convince me to hangout after school in the gymnasium to watch the basketball practice. It doesn't make sense how she wants to sit there watching the boys practice basketball, while we sit there and do nothing. What fun is that? I'd rather watch paint dry then watch a bunch of fools try to throw a ball into a net.

However no matter how crazy she may seem to me, I will admit that i've began to trust Rina a lot more then I believed I would over the little time that i've known her. It's weird to think about how you look at a person before you even speak to them, or even take a second glance. Knowing that she was apart of Carson's group I would've instantly avoided her but this whole idea of rebellion has taught to think otherwise. She tells me things that I wouldn't suspect she tells anyone else, and it seems as if she is working her way to pop my personal bubble, just as Chelsea did. It can take days to win my trust, but I am thinking to reward Rina with it, just because it seems reasonable to me. I really would like to consider her my friend, the only thing making me think twice about the whole thing, is my mother. By the way I get treated by my mother and the lies that sometimes could pass as the truth without me ever knowing makes me believe that I could never maintain a friendship.

"The way your brain processes 'fun' is very strange," I finally comment after completely zoning out and almost forgetting that Rina is gripping my forearm so hard that the blood circulation is most likely cut off by now. She ignores my statement and clings to my arm shaking it furiously the same way she's been doing for the past 5 minutes.

"Please! Please! Please!" She whines. She is sounding very similar to a toddler the moment. She has a high voice in general, but whining like a kid makes it ear damaging.

I huff and begin to take it into consideration. The fact that I would be with Rina makes me feel more comfortable with the situation, but the fact that Carson most likely will be there makes me want to either hurl, or run out the door. On instinct, my hand goes to my stomach, telling myself to keel my lunch where it belongs. The next thought makes me even more nauseous than before. I will have to give my mother some explanation as to why I will not be returning home on time.

Part of me knows it's better to go home and avoid the whole situation, but the other part of me screams at the other and tells me to just go, to prove to my mother she can't control me like a dog. I quickly explain to Rina my mother's sense of being very over protective of me just so she doesn't ask who Kristy is, because I don't think that's something I want to tell her no matter how close she is to me.

I call my mother from Rina's phone. My mind spinning in a million different directions making me unable to focus on anything so I barely notice my mother screaming into the phone.

"What do you mean you are staying after school?! An-"

"Mom! Stop, there's too many people around." I whisper/ yell into the phone. I know what she was about to do, she was about to use my real name and if anyone were to hear that- well lets just be thankful it didn't get to that.

"But Kristy is coming to school to meet with me and a teacher," I lie.

I hear her sigh on the other end of the phone. "Fine, but you are to be home with Kristy, the second it ends. Understand?"

"Yeah whatever," I hang up and hand the phone back to Rina. Now the only thing to worry about is, weather Kristy will actually be showing up at our house today to do whatever kind of work she does when she's there. But if she does decide to show up and I'm not there, I can kiss Oregon goodbye.

+++

As always, I was correct. The moment I entered the gymnasium, there Carson was, dribbling his ball but pausing to meeting my eyes when we entered. As soon as I look at his blue eyes that can capture anyone's attentions, my pule quickens and my palms begin to sweat. I quickly turn on my heels bolting for the door but Rina is right behind me already a step ahead of me. She spread her arms out blocking the door, giving me a suspicious glare. "Where are you going?" She asks narrowing her eyes, trying to read my mind.

I open my mouth but think of nothing to say so I snap it shut before something stupid emerges from it. Even if I did run, there would be no where to go, not quite yet at least. I can't randomly go outside because if my mother finds me randomly wandering the streets. . . Well let's not jump to conclusions. I sigh in defeat without saying a word and walk with Rina who is smiling in victory to the bleachers on the side of the gym. Once I sit, my elbow goes to my knee and I rest my chin on my fist. A pout makes it's way to my face and I sit there glaring at the wall while Rina applies a fresh coat of makeup looking into a really tiny mirror. Wearing makeup was something I never did as crazy as it sounds, I don't care if you color my hair, change my name, and make me live in Antarctica! But I always told myself I will never be like those clueless, crazy, brainwashed people and wear makeup.

I believe that makeup is a way to hide everything you are, appearance wise, Being through things l have, have taught me that hiding is no way to live life, because you can never take anything back. Once you've started something, you can't stop it. And makeup hides things like that, it gives people the wrong impression of you, but no matter what you do it's unstoppable. So, my point is, is that makeup makes you someone your not, in a way that's like me, but it's not like I was ever given a choice.

"Do you want any?" I hear.

I look over at Rina offering her makeup bag. "Um, no I, uh, I don't wear makeup." Wow, I tell myself. I think that's the first thing i've said so far that hasn't been a lie.

Rina shrugs and puts the bag away. "Isn't this fun?" She asks grinning big, folding her hands over her crossed knees and letting out a happy sigh through her ginormous smile.

Just as Carson runs by dribbling the ball, about to make a shot, I say "no, i'd rather watch paint dry," very loudly. Carson stops in his tracks and raises a brow looking at me with a 'are you serious' look. His breathes are heavy and sweat falls from the hairline on his head.

"You calling this boring?" He asks.

"Funny you ask, because I am," I reply in annoyance. Rina nudges me with her elbow and gives me a deathly glare. I ignore it and mock her with the same glare.

"Here," Carson tosses the ball to me and just before it hits my face, I catch it without a problem making sure to give him a glare too. "Why don't you make a shot?"

I look at the ball and back at him. He grins at me and guestures to the hoop occupied by no one. Well just great, too bad I know absolutely nothing about basketball, but what I do know, is that I would absolutely love to throw this ball right at the grin on his face.

"How about no?" I say with a sassy tone.

"How about yes. I dare you, Gentry." He says resting his hand on his hip, continuing to breathe heavily. I sigh and climb down the two rows of bleachers to reach him, resisting every urge to slap him as I walk towards him.

"Surprised you actually remember my name," I mumble, but I don't think he hears it.

Carson trails behind me as I walk closer to the basketball hoop.

"Um, where do I shoot?" I ask turning around feeling a minimal amount of heat on my cheeks. He stares at my face blankly, as if he is in some kind of daze.

"Carson?" I say. No response. I snap in his face, nothing. The only thing left is to slap him. When I bring my hand up, he catches it in mid air and smiles staring directly into my eyes. It feels as if time is in slow motion, and his smile sends shivers down my spine, but not in an uncomfortable way, in a way that wants me to savor the moment. But at the same time my life flashes behinds my eyes and tells me this is all wrong, no matter how right it feels.

"Right here is fine." He still grips my wrist and keeps his eyes locked on mine. His friends who have stopped practicing at the moment, laugh and whisper to each other behind him. I shift uncomfortably and look away, loosening his grip around my wrist and eventually getting him to let go.

I turn and try to shake the tingling feeling from my hand just where his grip was. I inhale and exhale. It's now or never. I raise my arms aiming the ball for the hoop. But before it can go in midair a voice screams through the gym, right into my ears, putting my entire body through shock.

"Sara Grace Gentry!" A voice yells. My head turns into the direction of the voice and my eyes meet ones where anger is raging. My mother.