Hey guys ^^ This is a short story I started sometime in the beginning of July. I can't remember why, but I stopped halfway through and just found it today. I finished writing it, but I think my original intentions of writing this are gone. I might fix it one day, but until then, on YWS it goes so it doesn't flood my files.
Catherine fixed her gaze on the tip of the blue marker whizzing across the wipe board. She stayed right on its tail, scribbling formulas onto her page quick as lightning. From behind her, she could hear the giggles and whispering while their disgusted, envious frowns bore into her back.
Catherine’s face flushed scarlet. Her cheeks felt hot and heavy. Her pen almost slipped out of her hand from all the sweat collecting there, but she but her lip and pressed on.
Forget them, Cathy. Forget them. She told herself. You’ll be the one laughing in the end. In the end…
Rinnnnng. The lunch bell.
Like a flock of pigeons at the sight or a predator, they flew out the door, a few feathers left to remain. Almost at the speed of a desert tortoise, Catherine packed up her notebook and pencils.
Anatomy notebook, Calculus notebook, American Government notebook, World Literature binder, Music Theory AP binder, and Orchestra folder, all in order.
Once she finished alphabetizing her pencil case and categorizing her homework based on class, date, and subtopic, she rummaged through her backpack for something else to do. A plastic container of sugar cookies sat on top of her binders, the layer of sprinkles glinting in the dim light of the science lab. Catherine thought about how the previous night she stayed up past midnight to bake them just right.
The school custodian and Catherine‘s only real companion, Mr. Fizz, told her the best way to make friends was through a relatable topic. At first, Catherine considered talking over English class, since everyone had to take that. With an awkward frown, Mr. Fizz shook his head and said, “Maybe you should try talking about something teenager-y, like rap music or make them some food. Everyone loves food.”
Catherine thought about all of her hard work, about how she’d even taken a professional baking class to learn and how she’d check the nutrition statistics on all of the ingredients. Still, the cookies sat in the container, unappreciated and longing to be shared.
“What are you still doing here, Catherine? Shouldn’t you be going on to lunch?” Catherine turned to face her anatomy teacher, Mrs. Brookes, an older lady with wispy brown hair and frown lines tattooed around her mouth. Though Mrs. Brookes was known to be one of the meanest, most difficult teachers at the high school, she had a soft spot for Catherine, her only student that could keep up with her standards and then some.
“Huh?” As she turned, Catherine’s foot got stuck under the desk. She fell to the floor with a light thump. “Ouch.” She examined the blue tile, covered in black streaks and substances that were most likely the remains of a dissection period.
Mrs. Brookes frowned and offered Catherine a hand, “Get up, now. Quit being so startled by people talking. You have to get used to it or else university will be a problem for you.” Taking the hand, Catherine stood up and dusted off her blouse. She readjusted her green, tortoise-frame glasses. Luckily, she hadn’t fallen on her face. Her mother wouldn’t want to pay for another replacement.
“I’m trying, Mrs. Brookes, but those kids are impossible,” Catherine stared at the floor and sighed.
Nothing she did ever seemed good enough for them. 4.8 GPA, becoming first chair violinist in orchestra, winning the talent show, earning scholarships. Nothing. No one had ever reached out a hand to her, said a single kind thing, or even smiled in her direction. She was the school’s success story, but no one took the time to care.
“Now, now, they’re not impossible. Maybe you just need to rethink a strategy. Have some confidence.” Mrs. Brookes walked back to her desk, glaring at the wilting potted plant before grabbing her watering can.
Catherine zipped her backpack, leaving a tiny hole in case she decided to let the cookies see the light of day.
“I have. Trust me, I have.” With that, Catherine fled from the classroom and out into the hallway.
As she walked, the glares of other students and snickers greeted her. The usual. Insults like “nerd” or “geek” or “show off” were often the chant when she was around.
They’ll never want me. Catherine clenched her fist and narrowed her eyes into oblivion. They’ve always teased me, called me names, pulled pranks on me, and laughed. They don’t deserve to be my friends. Her hands gripped tighter, the veins on the surface bursting a greenish-blue. It doesn’t matter, because I’ll be the one laughing later. I’m the valedictorian. I have the scholarship. I’ll have the bright future among the future leaders of the world. I have to stay calm. In the end, the prize will be worth it. I don’t need friends.
She marched to her usual lunch spot. The girl’s restroom. It was the only place Catherine could be alone, the only place she was important. The stalls, covered in whiteout and dried lipstick, was her kingdom. The rusty brown sinks, occasionally dripping something other than water, were her people. And the toilet, with its rainbow assortment of sharpie markings, was her throne.
Catherine plopped herself on the toilet lid, now adorned with a bright pink toilet fuzzy. “So what shall we have today, friends?” she asked her royal subjects. “Would any of you like some sugar cookies? You’re much more worthy than those other peasants.”
Wrinkling her nose at the thought of her classmates, she pulled out the container of cookies and removed the lid. “Why, there’s enough for all of us. In fact, I even brought a thermos of tea and a cucumber and cheese sandwich.”
She sliced the cucumber and cheese sandwich with her plastic knife and laid the cookies out on a blue and white picnic blanket she’d brought from home. “You’re all wonderful subjects,” she said while slicing eights, “So loyal, so reliable…”
A single tear, glassy as her eyes, ran down her cheek. She wiped it with her sleeve.
“It will all be worth it in the end,” she breathed a sigh, “If I even make it there.”
#
Blue and gold banners flooded the football field while balloon arches hung over the platform like a rainbow. A mass of young adults in blue robes and caps flooded the field, chattering amongst one another and bidding goodbyes with hugs and tears. And standing behind the curtain, hidden as usual, stood Catherine James.
With a collection of plaques tucked beneath arm, scrolled diplomas at hand, and a gold sash dangling around her neck, she was the very image of success. Four years of high school. She made it and proved to everyone she could.
It was everything Catherine could’ve imagined. Her mother going shutter-happy*, bouquets of roses, gold sash, speech, applause. And maybe it was that very fact that made Catherine’s stomach churn, that made her feel like there was a gaping hole inside of her chest. She’d waited for this very moment, told herself it would all be worth it in the end, and now, the end was here.
As the James family exited the football field with victorious atmosphere surrounding them, Catherine craned her neck over her shoulder, staring at what would soon be left behind. A few other graduates, stripped of their caps and gowns, lingered near the stage. Chatting, smiling, crying.
“Wanna go for some pizza?” Catherine heard a boy ask as if he’d been doing it for years. His friends nodded.
Forget them, Cathy. You’ve done it, there’s no need for them. You lasted, and all that matters. But she couldn’t erase the taste of remorse from her tongue. She’d let them slip through her fingertips in exchange for winning.
“In the end, I‘m still alone.”
