Johnny's escapades during his high school years, as told from the point-of-view of everyone's most loathed character: the Head Cheerleader. Set in present day.
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I think we all want our lives to be extraordinary, to be different from everyone else's. Each and every one of us wants a story to tell our grandkids when we're all creased with the lines of age, and have them listen in pure wonder and admiration of us. We all want something that we could leave behind when we die, something more meaningful then just a memory.
I think that's why I wanted Johnny so much. I wanted, every so often, to take away the commonplace, the monotony of my everyday life. He was something different, something exciting, something fearsome but simultaneously fascinating. He was something that could make my life extraordinary.
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Walking down the halls of my high school is like walking down the red carpet, every single day. People stare in a mix of admiration and fear, parting like the Red Sea for Moses whenever I should walk past them, my elite circle closed in around me. As if I am Joan of Arc resurrected in the body of a sixteen-year-old girl.
I am a person who garners intimidation and respect from most of my peers, but this is partly because it had always been this way. Ever since kindergarten, I've been Ms. Popularity. This title is vital to me, and I find ways to climb to the top of the social ladder in every school I'm in. Elementary, junior high, and now, high school. It's easy to be in the spotlight, since I'm constantly hungry for the attention and the esteem. And if someone else inches in with me, I find ways to push them out, whether it's 'fair' or not.
Being fair simply does not matter to me.
Admittedly, one of my claims to fame is my ability to rock the boat. I always try to cause some sort of controversy wherever I go, whether it be stealing another girl's man, starting fights in the halls, or simply sparking a vicious rumor about somebody. Drama comes to me effortlessly, and the people just eat it up like candy.
Well, most of the people. There is that one odd group of kids, who only seem to get annoyed by my Soap-Opera-worthy theatrics. In the halls, they give me dirty looks, and scuttle away to their dark little corners. And as egocentric as it sounds, I can tell they only do that because they're jealous. They pretend to hate me to mask their jealousy. While I am respected, confident, and beloved, they're shunned, insecure, and angst-ridden. And they aim all that angst at me, because they have nothing better to do.
But this doesn't faze me whatsoever. They are not people who I associate with, and I never would associate with them. That's what I thought for a long time, until I was assigned my partner for a Philosophy project.
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Although I am practically legendary in the tri-state area, I'm no Einstein. At least, not in math. Or Science. Or history. Or English. In fact, I'm not very good at most of the subjects offered at school. I could've been; I'm one of those students who managed to pass most of the classes, but am capable of so much more, if only I applied myself. Except I don't.
However, I do have one forte, one that no one really expected from me. Philosophy. I don't know why, but I find it actually fun to speculate on things that are offered in that class. The people we study seem brilliant to me. And the theories… don't even get me started. I get positively giddy just thinking about it.
Sometimes I surprise myself whenever I'm in that class. I know that I surprise my peers, too. Every time I make a comment or answer a question with a level of intelligence higher then that of a hamster, I would get skeptical looks and sometimes even whispers of, 'what the fuck? Where did that come from?' Like they don't believe what I was saying. I don't blame them; I'm sort of dim-witted, and my marks don't exactly back me up.
I get a lot of bullshit from Johnny, especially. He would sit, all by himself, in the back of the class, and if I ever answered a question before him, he'd get this petulant look on his face, probably because I answered it better then he ever could.
But then again, I have to give the kid some credit. He is in my Biology class and my Media Studies class, and he is silent as the grave. And during breaks, I'd see him hanging around his group of outcasts, equally as quiet. But in Philosophy he seems to come alive… well, almost. As alive as someone like him could ever get. He actually talks, and participates in discussions, and gives profound insights into conversations. Not that any of this makes him any less of an outsider, or any more appealing to me as a person.
So anyway, I could see how he might get a bit irked at the fact that I steal his thunder. But he is smart, I'm not. Nevertheless, we are, to some extent, rivals, at least in that one class.
Which is why, I think, we were paired up for that stupid assignment.
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"Winona and Nelson," Ms. Alton droned out the couples. "Ivy and Asher. Miriam and Clyde…" And so on and so forth. Each pairing was met with looks of revulsion, distress, or pure shock. It was quite clear that Ms. Alton was bent on making the worst pairings imaginable.
I gave an impatient sigh and started tapping my nails on the desktop, my chin resting in my palm. My mind was drifting elsewhere at the moment. Precisely, to the Semi-Formal, which was fast approaching. I was still lacking a proper dress, I didn't have enough money to buy one myself, and my parents refused to shell out some cash. But that could easily be remedied. Jason, my boy-toy of the month, was always in a giving mood, especially after some… gentle persuasion.
"…Audrey and Johnny," Immediately I was snapped out of my reverie.
"Wait," I interrupted Ms. Alton, as she was about to announce Jenna's partner. "Me and… who?"
"Johnny," And as if I was blind, she pointed a pencil in his direction. I swiveled in my seat and caught the eye of Johnny, who must have been mirroring my current state of mind: absolute horror. I gave a half-hearted smile, before turning back around and burrowing my face into my hands. 'Relax, Audrey. Deep breathes. You could always negotiate your way out of this. It's not a big deal,'
"There will be no compromise or negotiation regarding who you are partners are," She said, as if reading my thoughts. Evidently no one was pleased with their pairings, as a collective groan was heard from the class.
"Calm down, calm down," She rolled her eyes and raised her voice over the complaints being echoed across the room. "Since it's your first major assignment, I'll be picking your partners for you. For the rest of the semester, you'll be free to pick your own.
"Your assignment is very simple. It consists of one question, which both partners have to answer, mutually. In the end, you will present your answer in the form of a paper, written by both partners," Ms. Alton paused. "The question is this…" She paused for dramatic effect, her cat-like green eyes narrowing and her mouth curling in a smile. "How do I know that I exist?"
The entire class cried out, even louder then before, in perfect unison, it was like a scene out of a movie. I could see through the open door as students from the class across the hall all leaned out of their desks to see what all the noise was about.
Then all the complaining started.
"That question's too open!" Someone howled, and that was followed by yet another loud outburst of objections.
"Settle down!" Alton rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, something she always did when aggravated. She was a young woman, but she acted like my grandmother. "Christ. It's just one assignment, you'll get through this," She sighed, but I have a feeling she was talking to herself.
I raised my hand with irritation and stretched myself as high out of my seat as I could.
"Ms. Bishop, please, before your hand falls off," Alton seemed just as annoyed.
"I would just like to know, what the real point of this assignment is," I asked.
"If you're suggesting that there's a hidden purpose, there isn't," She raised a finely plucked brow at me. But her sly smile suggested otherwise.
"Then why don't we just pick our own partners? It seems as if you purposely picked people we wouldn't be able to get along with," I realized what I said then and quickly corrected myself. "I mean, you chose partners who don't really mesh with one another, mostly,"
"That was by pure coincidence," Alton walked back to her desk and sat down on it. "Now, moving on…"
As she began explaining the rubric of the project, I turned not-so-discreetly to steal another glance at my partner. He was glaring straight ahead, seemingly unaware of me.
He looked pissed.
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