11th Grade, High School
Age: 15-16
September 2008
…
Spinelli raises the wash cloth to her face and then pauses, dropping her hand to the sink and continuing to stare at herself in the mirror. This has been going on for the last ten minutes as she tries to decide her plan of action. She has lifted the wash cloth, now almost dry from her indecision, countless times to wipe off her face but always holds back at the last second.
It's just concealer. It's barely even noticeable, just enough under her eyes to make sure she doesn't look exhausted. But if someone does notice and the guys hear about her wearing makeup she will never hear the end of it.
All of the other girls have started to wear makeup. Meghan Rigalli showed up to the first day of preseason with thick black eyeliner. The Ashleys have had perfectly painted faces since middle school. Even Gretchen has dabbled with concealer and mascara. Nothing extreme. Nothing that the boys have commented on or probably even noticed.
Spinelli isn't a complete newbie to all of this either – she has to cake her face with makeup for her recitals anyway. Why should this be so different? All she's doing is covering up her dark circles, not wanting anyone to comment on how tired she looks all the time. She hasn't been sleeping well and it's starting to show on her face, something she can fix with a little concealer.
It isn't like this would even be the first time she has 'fixed' something on her face or her body. Her mother, an esthetician by trade, has been helping her wax her eyebrows at home for years and this summer she started shaving her forearms after the Megans called her a gorilla at ballet. No one has noticed any of that though, or at least not the boys.
She sets the wash cloth back on the hanger and sighs, turning to the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. It's not that noticeable from a distance. Plus, Gus will be the first person she sees today and if he comments on it she'll have a heads up to run to the bathroom and wipe it all away before she sees the rest. TJ and Vince have an early football meeting and they'd be the two to make a comment.
"Ashley, are you okay in there?" she hears her mother say from the other side of the door.
"I'm fine!" she shouts. "I'll be out in a second!"
"Good. You're going to be late, honey."
She blows out a breath and takes one more glance at herself in the mirror. What's worse – the boys poking fun at her for wearing girly makeup or everyone being concerned about how tired she looks? They both seem equally horrifying.
She grabs the concealer from the counter and stuffs it into the pocket of her leather jacket as she leaves the bathroom. Just in case she needs a touch-up. She rushes down the stairs and grabs her backpack from its place near the bottom of the steps and heads for the door.
"Ashley!"
She rolls her eyes and turns to her mother, who stands with a sandwich bag of dried cereal, an apple, and a travel mug in addition to her lunch box.
"Breakfast," her mother says.
She rolls her eyes again. "I'm not hungry."
"I don't care. You need to eat breakfast," her mother insists, handing her the items. "It's the most important meal of the day. It fuels your brain for class."
"Fine," she grumbles.
Spinelli stuffs the items into the cupholders on either side of her backpack and then runs out to her bike. She isn't sure she'll eat any of it. In the mornings her stomach twists with nausea, which is probably because she spends most of her nights tossing and turning. She just can't seem to keep her brain from spinning at night. Even when she's dead tired, she lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind stuck on what happened that day or what she's worried about for the next day.
Gretchen is starting to get on her about colleges, but what does she even want to do? The idea of going to school far away, getting out of her little corner of Arkansas and experiencing something new, is appealing. But if she leaves Arkansas, will TJ come with her? What is he going to do? And she doesn't even have any ideas of what she wants to do anyway. How do you even pick a career? And don't you have to have some sort of idea about that before you pick a college?
Soccer has been okay, especially now that most of her friends have joined her on the varsity team. But Coach Ramsey is now working them hard, insisting that they improve over their record last year. Before the old goalie had her accident, their team had been expected to go far in the postseason and, while they didn't do terribly last season, they didn't go as far as expected. This year, he wants to change that. He wants their team back in the running for States, so practices have been long and grueling, but at least her friends are there with her this year.
Ballet, which used to be her safe haven, has turned into a nightmare. The Megans have made her their primary target and at first she could just ignore it. But now it has turned into a constant barrage of names and taunts, plus the occasional physical harassment like when they Sharpied her bike at the end of the school year. Luckily they ignore her in school so all she has to do is try to tune them out for the couple of hours she goes to ballet rehearsals.
Then, of course, there's the schoolwork itself. Her math class is moving even faster than last year and she constantly feels like she's falling behind. Then their entire group is taking turns helping TJ, making sure he doesn't have a repeat of the year before. Vince, Gretchen, and Gus are rotating on his math homework leaving her to help with his English assignments and the few history essays he'll have to do.
She is exhausted, but she isn't sure there's much she can do about it.
When she arrives at school, she locks her bike up and then walks with her head down toward her locker, then her math class, not wanting to draw attention to herself.
Her math classroom is still mostly empty, given that the bell has yet to ring. She sits at a desk clump in the back of the classroom with Gus and Ashley T. Ironically, it had been her idea to sit with Ashley T. She and Gus had walked into class on the first day and stood in the doorway, looking to see where there were two empty seats. Ashley T was already there, sitting by herself with her head down, writing in her school planner. Spinelli had beelined it to the seat beside her and Gus stood slack jawed in the doorway for a few moments before following her.
Ashley T already knew Spinelli's struggles in class and had proven that she wouldn't use it against her. The other Ashleys seemed none the wiser, none of them making wise comments about her stupidity. She could trust Ashley T already. Why risk sitting with someone new?
The other girl is already there, her eyes staring at her phone as she types something. Spinelli sits down and Ashley T glances up in greeting. Ashley T eyes her for a moment, then finishes typing into her phone, before looking back up at her.
"Here, come to the bathroom with me," Ashley T says as she reaches into her backpack. "I'll help you blend the concealer."
Spinelli watches as Ashley T reaches for what looks like a green pencil case. The girl stands and Spinelli follows her tentatively down the hall.
Once they're in the girls' bathroom, Ashley T glances around and, when she's sure they're alone, she turns to Spinelli. She opens the little green bag and withdraws a small brush.
"This will be quick," Ashley T says. As she lifts the brush, she adds, "Don't worry. This one's clean."
Spinelli shakes her head, not even thinking to ask about that. She stands still as Ashley T dabs the brush against her skin, only moving to hand over the little tube of concealer she has in her pocket so Ashley T can fix whatever she's messed up. Like the other girl said, it's quick and only moments later, Spinelli glances into the mirror and raises her eyebrows in surprise. The school bathroom mirrors are rarely forgiving and when she looks at herself, she wonders what sort of magic Ashley T was able to perform.
"Wow."
"Practice makes perfect," Ashley T says. "Now let's get to class before the bell rings."
The two girls walk back in silence, Ashley T a step ahead as if they aren't even walking together. Spinelli slows just enough to let Ashley T walk in first and she can walk in second without anyone thinking they were coming from the same place.
When the bell rings, Gus slides into his chair and gives her a warm smile. He doesn't mention a single word about her appearance and she breathes out a sigh of relief.
The rest of her morning classes drag. Math drains all of her brain power and by third period she can barely keep her eyes open as their teacher reads aloud from Heart of Darkness. She pinches her arm in her chair each time she feels her eyes beginning to close. In her defense, the room is dimly lit and her teacher's voice is almost melodic. Even Gus, who sits beside her, looks like he could take a nap and Gus is the last person she could imagine falling asleep in class. Too much of a goody-two-shoes to do that.
The clock ticks slowly over the final minute of class.
Once the bell rings for lunch, Spinelli leaps out of her seat. She has a lunch meeting with Vince and Mr. Dudikoff on the opposite side of the school. Normally she wouldn't rush for these. She would meet TJ at her locker, grab her lunch, and they'd walk casually over to Dudikoff's classroom. But TJ is no longer the president and Vince is much more of a stickler for being on time.
"Spinelli!"
She groans and turns around, tapping her toe on the hallway tiles as Mikey pushes through a group of students to get to her. There isn't a clock on the wall near her, but she knows she can't waste too much time. Vince will be pissed if she shows up late to their meeting with Mr. Dudikoff.
"This better be quick," she grumbles.
"I have a huge favor to ask you," Mikey says.
So much for going to her locker to change out her books and grab her lunch before the meeting. She motions with her hand for him to continue before crossing her arms.
"How would you like to have a minor part – and by minor I mean so minor it's only like a minute at most – in the fall musical?"
She waits a second to see if this is a prank and when he just stands there, eyes widened and hands clasped together almost in a prayer, she bursts out laughing. She shakes her head and turns on the heel of her boot, still chuckling as she starts to walk off toward Mr. Dudikoff's classroom.
"Oh, that's funny," she says.
Mikey jogs to catch up and walks beside her.
"I'm not joking, Spinelli. I'm one hundred percent serious."
She shakes her head. "I can't sing and you know that."
"I know," Mikey agrees. "But this part doesn't involve singing. It actually doesn't have any lines to memorize at all!"
She turns to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. "You can't find anyone else to be an extra?"
"It isn't an extra role," Mikey says. "It's a dancing role. We've tried to find someone already in the cast to fill it, but no one in theater right now does ballet – and no one really wants to break their toes trying to pretend they do."
He goes on to tell her that he has been given the opportunity to write and direct his own play, one that he perfected over the summer while he was away at the Young Voices Training Program. It's mostly autobiographical, about a young man eager to be a dancer but finds that his size is hindering his performance, much like Mikey's own story at Madame Pavlova's. But the pivotal scene at the beginning of the play has a young version of the main character watching a ballerina do a routine that inspires him.
"And nobody wants to be the ballerina," Mikey finishes.
"Can't you just cut that part out?"
Mikey's face drops. "It's such a beautiful scene, full of hope and promise. Plus, it has the musical number I'm most proud of creating."
She stops in the hallway and turns to look at him, throwing her head back. "Mikey, I don't do theater."
"It's not really theater," he says. "It would just be you dancing, which you already do."
"Yeah, but the school…" She shakes her head. "I don't dance at school. Ballet and school are two separate parts of my life."
Mikey sighs. "If you're worried that the rest of the school will see you dance, no one from school comes to the plays anyway." He shrugs his shoulders. "It's mostly just the teachers and parents. It's not exactly cool to see the school musical."
Spinelli blows a breath out of her nose. Mikey doesn't ask for much and, if she's being honest, she knows he's right. She has been to the plays and musicals before, but whenever their crew of friends go none of the other students are there. It isn't like the football and basketball games, where at least half the school shows up on any given gameday. It's likely that she could do her little bit and no one would know she was even involved.
"It'll be no more than a minute on stage and I'll give you full creative license on what you do for a routine. You wouldn't even need to come to the rehearsals until the very end," Mikey continues. "It would mean so much to me."
"Fine," she says. "But I'm doing the bare minimum."
Before she even finishes her sentence, Mikey has wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up into a hug, swinging her around the hallway with glee. As much as she didn't want to say yes, this is why she did. How can anyone say no to Mikey?
"Oh, Spinelli, thank you!"
"Put me down, you big lummox!" she insists.
He swings her around once more before setting her on the ground, thanking her again. She waves him off and adjusts her backpack, speed walking through the hallways.
Vince is outside Dudikoff's door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes continuing to glance at the watch on his wrist. When he sees her approaching, he lifts his wrist and points at it.
"You're late," he says. "Picking up TJ's bad habits?"
She rolls her eyes. "I ran into Mikey."
"I don't care," Vince tells her, pushing off the wall and walking toward the door. "I don't want to waste all lunch period doing this meeting. It's my only free time of the day."
"As if it's not mine too," she mumbles.
He turns to look over his shoulder at her. "What'd you say?"
She shakes her head and fakes a smile. "Oh, nothing, Mr. President."
He groans and storms into Dudikoff's room, leaving Spinelli to walk in his wake. She debates not following after him, but that would just make her look bad to Dudikoff. So instead she huffs and storms into the room behind him.
They've only been back in school for a few weeks and this is their first responsibility as president and vice president, but she already misses the ease of working with TJ. She never should have agreed to this, knowing that she and Vince are too similar. They both have too much fire in their personalities to work well together. Even in elementary school they butt heads. Their teachers quickly realized that pairing the two for projects always ended in disaster. On the not-so-rare occasion that TJ ended up at the wall during recess, the two argued over plans and activities to do during the period.
Vince and Spinelli together was almost like putting gas on a flame. When they needed fire, it was great. The pair was unstoppable. When they didn't, it just destroyed everything around them. It's why TJ never paired them together. It's why Ms. Grotke and later Ms. Finster and Mr. Yamashiro never paired the two together. It was too big of a risk.
But back then it was more about power. They both wanted to be in charge. They both wanted to be TJ's second-in-command. She can't pinpoint when everything went downhill, but this summer was miserable. When the boys – because this summer it seemed like the group of neighborhood boys were attached at the hip – teased her, Vince's teases felt different. Like there was an edge to them that the others didn't have.
With Sam, Dave, and Phil, the teasing feels like teasing. Vince just always seems annoyed by her.
She lets Vince take the lead, nodding along without paying much attention to the back and forth. It isn't as though it's that important. They discuss expectations for the year and reconcile the budget, going over potential fundraising and what timelines will need to look like for events they're in charge of for the year. She knows the gist from the previous years and does her best to fake interest in the topic. She taps her fingers on the table while Vince and Mr. Dudikoff share ideas over their lunches.
When the meeting finishes, there's only a few minutes left of the lunch period. Vince adjusts his backpack on his shoulders and shrugs at her when they leave the classroom.
"Guess I'll just head to class then," he says. "See you later, Spin."
He turns before she can even wave him off. She sighs and turns the other way, heading to her locker to change out her books and grab a granola bar. She won't have time to scarf down her whole lunch before the bell rings and she supposes that's better than nothing.
She rounds the corner and her eyes immediately find the only other being in the empty hallway. The corners of her lips immediately upturn. As the heels of her boots click against the tile floor, TJ looks up from his phone and smiles at her.
"What are you doing here?" she asks as she approaches.
TJ shrugs. "I figured that you'd never get out in time to come to the cafeteria so I left a little early and hoped that you hadn't been to your locker yet."
He opens his arms and she falls into them, pressing her forehead against the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.
"Our schedules haven't really been lining up lately, have they?" he says quietly.
She pulls away and when she looks up at him, he leans down to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Not really," she agrees.
She and TJ don't have a single class together this year and between their sports schedules and his job at Floppy Burger, she feels like she never sees him. This is the first time in the history of their relationship, and even their friendship before that, that they have to actually plan out days and times that work for them. Before, it was just easy. They lived a few houses down. They never needed to plan anything.
TJ lets her go and shuffles out of the way so she can key into her locker.
"So, how'd the meeting go?"
She shakes her head. "It went."
He frowns and she turns away, focusing on taking each book out of her locker and stuffing them into her backpack. She hasn't said anything to TJ about the iciness she feels around Vince. She doesn't want him in the middle of it – especially if it's all just in her head. She doesn't want to be what comes between them.
"Boring, you know," she says to throw him off. "Like always."
He nods in agreement. "Of course it is. There's nothing to actually plan yet."
"And nothing really to plan until spring," she continues. "Which is good because we won't have to deal with the Ashleys and their budget bursting."
TJ chuckles. "They'll still burst the budget on the homecoming float. You know that."
She groans, knowing that he's right, and reaches for her lunchbox, unzipping it and reaching inside for something she can eat on the go.
"You didn't eat your lunch?"
She rolls her eyes. "You sound like Flo," she says as she zips it back up. She shows him the granola bar. "I forgot it. It's fine. I'll grab a snack before practice, I promise."
She shuts her locker door and holds her hand out. "Walk me to class?"
TJ eagerly reaches for her hand and smiles. "That was the plan."
For her elective this year, she chose creative writing. It seemed like an easy A and she had the prerequisites for it. Plus, it seemed a lot more interesting to her than anatomy and physiology, which Gretchen and Vince are taking, or law and ethics, which Gus is taking. She had thought about being a gym leader with TJ, but the only gym section she could have led was when TJ took math, so here she is.
It isn't a bad class. Sam and Dave are in it and those two are always good for a laugh. There are a few more intense writers, but overall most of the kids in the class are there for an easy start to the afternoon. It seemed like a good choice with everything she has going on.
"I've got late tape viewing tonight," TJ says as they come to a stop in front of her classroom. He lets go of her hand so he can face her, putting his hands on her hips to pull her closer and rests his forehead against her own. "You'd think this was the state championship game."
"It's a big rivalry," she says and TJ nods.
The game tomorrow night is against one of their biggest rivals, a team from a town over from theirs that they always play on Thanksgiving Day for the Turkey Game. It's always a gritty game, down to the last second Hail Mary throws. Even as JV players, this game was a big deal, but now that TJ and the rest are on varsity it's a Big Deal.
"I know, but I'd rather have the night off and get to hang out with you instead," TJ says.
She smiles coyly. "That sounds perfect."
"Tomorrow night, after the game, I'm all yours."
"I'll hold you to it."
TJ's eyes dart down to her lips and she gives him a small nod of permission. He beams before capturing her lips with his, a kiss she has missed with their mismatched schedules.
"Aww, how adorable."
Spinelli groans at the sound of Sam's voice behind her, turning her head to look over her shoulder. TJ just pulls her closer.
"Ignore them," he whispers in her ear.
She wishes she could, but she feels Sam and Dave both approach and then one of them tugs her braids.
"And just like that, the King TJ had all the fair maidens of the kingdom falling at his feet," Dave says, his voice low and imitating a narrator. "But, of course, the king only had eyes for one, the Warrior Princess."
"The Warrior Princess who he's slowly turning into a romantic sap," Sam finishes with a chuckle. "So much for that reputation."
Spinelli turns around and whacks both twins in the arms. "Stop it, jerks," she grumbles.
Sam laughs, taking her hand and running his thumb over her nails, which are still covered in red and blue nail polish, done at the team dinner a few nights ago before one of their soccer games.
"Watch out, Spinelli, or you'll ruin your nails!" he jokes.
The brothers both laugh again and walk into the classroom in unison.
The blood whooshes in her ears as she watches them walk into the room and she takes a glance down at her hands. She has always prided herself on the reputation that she earned on the Third Street playground. No one dared cross her for fear of Madame Fist. Of course, Madame Fist hasn't made much of an appearance since Third Street, since she got in trouble one too many times for fighting and her mother put her in ballet as punishment, but people still feared crossing her.
Or so she thought.
Sam and Dave have teased her for years, but as she looks down at her hands, she wonders how the rest of the school sees her. Is that how everyone sees her now? Not the tough as nails tomboy from the playground, but a girl with nails to ruin.
"Spin."
She shakes herself out of her thoughts and sees TJ staring at her, his gaze heavy with concern.
"What's going through your head?" he asks.
Her eyes glance to the side, as their schoolmates glide past them. No one appears to be paying them any attention. But the whooshing in her ears is still there, making it sound like she's underwater. Her stomach flops. She has lost her edge, the edge that made her different and unique among a sea of other students, of other girls, of other Ashleys. And if she really has lost it, how does she get it back?
"I'll talk to them," TJ says, sighing as he runs his hand over his face. "They need to give you a break from the teasing."
She shakes her head. "No. It's fine. I can handle it."
"But, Spin. You shouldn't have to handle it," TJ tells her.
"No," she says. She crosses her arms and keeps shaking her head. She is tough. She can handle it. She doesn't need TJ to come in and be her savior. She can be her own savior. "I don't want you to say anything."
TJ doesn't look convinced and so she reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze.
"I appreciate it, but I can handle those two bozos," she tells him. "Now get to class before you get in trouble."
"Yes, ma'am."
She waits until TJ has turned the corner to let her face drop, matching the unpleasant gurgle of her stomach. She needs to do something to fix her reputation before she loses all control over her image. She just needs to figure out what to do.
…
Notes
The first half of junior year is going to focus heavily on Spinelli, while the second half will have a major focus on Vince. Those two will also be the primary narrators for the next block of chapters. Of course, everyone will be featured, but in plotting out this year, that is how it seemed to work out.
As I've touched on in previous notes, this year will have some heavier topics, including mental health and racism to name a couple. I'm going to keep the writing to a T rating.
Thank you all for reading! I greatly appreciate all the encouragement and your continued support.
