"Hey," I said, "You can keep my things they've come to take me home"
I woke up today and realized we have something like 16 days of school left.
Freshman year is almost over, and I've got an overwhelming desire to jump up and say "Yes!!"
But then I'd sit back down and think to myself, next year we're not the babies anymore. Next year is tough. Toughen up. Maybe I won't be able to skid by with an A, even though I procrastinated. Like Kelly said to me, you are weak. You are letting down me/the coaches/the team/your parents/yourself. Toughen up. Pull it together.
More about Kelly. One of the only times I've ever liked her was at the gym banquets. Tonight was my final one. You can see all their true personalities come out. The good sides. The coaches go soft. Tiffany cries. Instead of cracking the whip, they had out sweets and awards and smiles.
Bridget adorns me with a lei, it's apparently a Hawaiian theme this year. It sheds pink threads all over my black skirt. You can tell we're all so mature at the compulsory table. We put the paper umbrellas in our water to turn them pink/blue/yellow/red, then leave the evidence on the table creating a stain. We knock on our glasses and drag a wet finger around the ring to make a droned whistling. We play with our food, and put confetti in the stained water. We are all incredibly mature, yes we are.
They give me the Monet award, because they say I am as pretty to watch as a painting on the wall. Karla squints at the award, mispronouncing "Monet" as "Modest". I smile and stand up, concentrating on not tripping in my three inch heels.
"Was it bittersweet?" my mom asks afterwards. "No," I say shortly. Just sweet. I'm proud of myself for coming to a decision, one that might just be the right one. I'm proud of myself for letting go.
So I stole two red roses off the table, and walked out (tripping only twice, I swear!) with my head held high.
Freshman year is almost over, and I've got an overwhelming desire to jump up and say "Yes!!"
But then I'd sit back down and think to myself, next year we're not the babies anymore. Next year is tough. Toughen up. Maybe I won't be able to skid by with an A, even though I procrastinated. Like Kelly said to me, you are weak. You are letting down me/the coaches/the team/your parents/yourself. Toughen up. Pull it together.
More about Kelly. One of the only times I've ever liked her was at the gym banquets. Tonight was my final one. You can see all their true personalities come out. The good sides. The coaches go soft. Tiffany cries. Instead of cracking the whip, they had out sweets and awards and smiles.
Bridget adorns me with a lei, it's apparently a Hawaiian theme this year. It sheds pink threads all over my black skirt. You can tell we're all so mature at the compulsory table. We put the paper umbrellas in our water to turn them pink/blue/yellow/red, then leave the evidence on the table creating a stain. We knock on our glasses and drag a wet finger around the ring to make a droned whistling. We play with our food, and put confetti in the stained water. We are all incredibly mature, yes we are.
They give me the Monet award, because they say I am as pretty to watch as a painting on the wall. Karla squints at the award, mispronouncing "Monet" as "Modest". I smile and stand up, concentrating on not tripping in my three inch heels.
"Was it bittersweet?" my mom asks afterwards. "No," I say shortly. Just sweet. I'm proud of myself for coming to a decision, one that might just be the right one. I'm proud of myself for letting go.
So I stole two red roses off the table, and walked out (tripping only twice, I swear!) with my head held high.