Song of a Sophomore

CHAPTER 18 - Ants Marching

As the bus bumps down the highway, my backpack presses on my lap like lead, weighed down with three binders, two textbooks, and the novel Pride and Prejudice, which is required reading for English class. Honors classes are every bit as intimidating as I imagined, and keep me busy each night with two to three hours of homework. My red cheerleading duffle bag lays in the empty seat beside me, filled with snacks, a water bottle, my six-year old Walkman and new mixtape, as well as silver pompoms. I pull out my novel and began reading the first chapter.

"Nerd alert!" Bethany's voice rings out from three rows back.

"Bookworm," Katelyn adds.

Sinking under the familiar weight of rejection, I slump in my seat, shove my book back into the pocket of my backpack, and reach into the duffle bag for my Walkman. I let out a frustrated sigh and push 'play' hoping for a temporary escape from my unfortunate reality courtesy of a bluegrass-infused rock song from the Dave Matthews Band. I crank up the volume and move my backpack from my lap to the empty space next to me.

We are well on our way to the first football game of the season, and it's apparent no one will be sit with me. Or in front of me. Or behind me. Everyone keeps their distance now, since Coach Roberts punished the entire squad for the locker room incident. She made us run a mile on the track in view of the varsity football team as they practiced on the field, followed by push ups and sit ups. 

How humiliating... but safer than telling the truth. 

Although I promised Gloria I would tell Coach Roberts, I took a 'wait and see' approach, and so far, so good. Bethany and Katelyn haven't picked on me at all. Maybe our punishment is the turning point I've been waiting for?

I lean my head against the window of the school bus, doing my best to retreat into the music and ignore the burning sensation of humiliation in my chest. Staring out at the cloudless September sky, I watch as suburban sprawl gives way to flat countryside with homes spaced acres apart, then dense woods, followed by rolling hills and colorful patches of farmland. The real estate developers and construction companies have not gotten this far west. In the absence of bulldozers, shopping centers and new housing developments, every blade of grass the afternoon sun touches radiates with joy. I smile at the beauty of it all.

My ears pop as we climb the Blue Ridge Mountains on our way to an unfamiliar high school in the valley below. I wonder, is there some awkward girl like me there, too? Someone innocently attempting to improve her social standing with new clothes, make up and a spot on the cheerleading squad? Someone naïve enough to believe she could be successful in a strange new world and turn enemies into friends? As the ancient Shenandoah River passes beneath our feet, I figure the same scenario has probably played out since the beginning of human history.

I'm going to fit in. It just takes time.

As our bus approaches its destination, there's a sharp tap on my shoulder. Bethany towers over me and I shrink under her stare as she inspects me from top to bottom. Uh, oh. I pause the music and sit at attention.

After a few moments, she releases her judgement, an irritated breath into her thick, red bangs. "Can you at least put in a little effort? You're a cheerleader now. This isn't pompon squad. This is the real deal. Varsity. Why don't you put on some lipstick and blush, and tie your shoelace while you're at it."

"Oh, sorry." I reach down to tie my shoe just as the bus comes to an abrupt stop and I bump my head against the seat in front of me.

Bethany snickers, flips her ponytail and sashays down the aisle to lead the squad off the bus. As they unload, I fumble for the tube of lipstick and compact I bought with Gloria's expertise the weekend before school started. The lipstick is a spicy brown, matte shade Gloria said suited me because I am an "autumn," whatever that means. I dig through my bag for the pot of Naturistics vanilla-flavored lip-gloss for a bit of shine. After I sweep it across my lips with my pinky finger, I study my face in my compact mirror and dust my freckled nose with pressed powder. A pimple threatens to erupt on my chin.