Playing The Game

Mad as a bull

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*

   Even when we don't win there's an amazing after game party allowing us to drink our loss. Being cheer captain and the best friend to the quarterback, I normally attend these parties. My parents neither encourage nor discourage this behavior, nonetheless, I'm still home before two.

   Tonight the pity party transforms itself into a victory celebration. Beer kegs have doubled, the music is full blast, people are dancing heatedly, and I detect the smell of marijuana.

   I stand at the entrance to Jessie Nixon's house, the host and a damn good tackler.

   "This is for you, Avery." Austin said.

   "It can't be. As far as anyone knows, you beat the Panthers." I mutter, angry that he gets the credit for my hard work. All because he has a tool swinging between his legs that I don't.

   "You could tell-"

   "I need white lightning." I launch my search for some good moonshine.

   I may be a lady, but that don't mean I lack the knowledge of how to 'get down'. A skill that one must have in order to live a little.

   I find red cups filled to the brim with my special golden stuff. Right off the bat I chug one.

   On my third cup and I'm barely beginning to feel the buzz, mother would be proud. To her, any proper women has to be able to keep her liquor down.

   Ivy, my best girlfriend, approaches me. And boy, does the girl look pissed.

   Before you say it, I know. I'm Avery and my closest pals are named Austin and Ivy. Yes, ha-ha-ha, its all hilarious, I'm sure. This simple fact has been the joke of the entire school since we established our friendship. Apparently, I'm the lovechild of the hot couple. Austin and Ivy do date, happened freshmen year.

   You would think I'm disgusted by them being together, but in all honestly they fit. Two peas in a pod, so long as they ain't fighting. Then Austin's head better duck.

   "Ivy, my girl!" I hum.

   "Where the hell were you?!"

   "Whadda ya mean?" I feel dizzy.

   "You went into the locker room to help my boyfriend and never came out. Where did you go?" she demands.

   That's the thing with Ivy. She's the daughter my mother wants. Perfect Southern Belle in the street, absolute bitch behind sealed doors. Ivy can be charming, mysterious, and even sexy. Once she starts yapping, you start running. You will either adore the girl to death, or bash her head into the nearest surface, there's no in between.

   Why am I friends with her?

   Oh yeah, her mother drinks tea with mine at the yacht club. Those two got it in their bloated heads that their offspring's would make the dynamic duo. In ways, we do I suppose. There's a balance we have, that doesn't require much pressure to be swayed. Ivy is the definition of bipolar, and you don't want to be on her shit list.

   She really has a shit list, keeps it in her bra for safety. Few times I have gotten myself there, but thankfully wormed my way out. Throughout high school we manged to gain plenty of followers. When your name holds power it gives you high influence over a chunk of people. Our classmates may respect me more, but its Ivy they fear, which could tip the scales.

   "I got-um- sick."

   She places a hand on her hip, "Sick?"

   I nod seriously, "Took one look at Austin's ankle and out came the barf."

   "Oh, well, you still could've said something. I was so worried I think I got grey hairs." She takes a lock of her thick black hair and twists it.

   "You are as pretty as they come, and even then you out shine the rest." Austin said, sneaking up behind Ivy.

   I gag then prance away. The moonshine finally hitting, and hard.

   I was having an aimless chat with three other cheerleaders, Hailey, Casey, and Olivia when the thing came up.

   "Come here often?"

   Connor Adams. Star baseball player, utter stud muffin, abs you could eat pie off of, and also my ex. Complete asshole. Bullying prick. And yet he thinks he can win me back. I've fallen for his smooth words before, but I refuse to this time around.

   "Only every Friday night." I sigh.

   "Sugar doll, don't be like that." He pushes his face right into mine and I can taste the whiskey on his breath.

   "I hate it when you call me that, you 'coon." I push past him and his drunken ass.

   "Odd, I can't member you sayin' mean things like that to me while in bed." He follows me.

   I regret sleeping with him. Mother thought he was all that, considering his daddy owns the best car lot in Alabama. I guess he was, to a dingy idiot.

   "That's because you were entertaining me with that itty bitty little thing of yours." I smirk, enjoying the feel of free sarcasm.

   Abruptly, Connor grabs my arm in a rough way. "Don't talk to me in such tones, whore."

   "Or what." I stare evenly at him, "What will you do."

   One small form of rebellion, one, and all of a sudden I'm brave? I guess doing something you thought of as forbidden and dangerous makes you ballsy. I do severely like this, I feel I'm discovering who I am.

   "Someone outta teach you some manners." Connor threatens.

   Another reason I dumped his sorry ass. He's a scary drunk. Those whom become violent with alcohol should be banned from drinking it. Puts a damper on everyone else's light mood.

   "I think it's you who needs manners. Didn't your mama teach you to not lay a finger on a female unless its meant for love?" Duke said from over my shoulder.

   Small secret for you; I have been hopelessly in love with Duke. Seventh grade, when he was trying out for the middle school football team. The moment I saw him run, he had not only the ball, but my heart as well. Damn me to the fiery pits of Hell.

   There was a huge mountain in the way of me exposing how Duke makes me pink. Not one I'd be scaling anytime soon.

   "Mind your own damn business nigger." Connor snarls.

   Our skin tone. I'm as white as you can get, and Duke is just as black. Any romantic relationship between us can never exist. It's not socially acceptable and many think of it as taboo.

   "Keep in mind who her daddy is. And the crowd she hangs with. You wanna go up against Austin and all dem others, go for it. Cant say I didn't warn ya." Duke said.

   Connor glances back and forth. Hesitantly he releases my arm and storms away. Even drunk and naturally stupid he had the brains to know messing with me will form a mini army. In a straight fight, Austin against Connor, both can hold their own, but Austin can lay Connor on his shapely ass. Happened before.

   I gulp the dry air before facing my hero, "Thanks. Mad as a bull he is."

   "Big baby I say. Come on, lets put ice on that."

*

   Gave you some history on Avery. There are still many prejudice people out there. And they can be total assholes.

   I personally believe black/white, white/white, black/black, Asian/black, Hispanic/white or any relationship doesn't matter, and shouldn't be based off color or race. It's unfair.

   Love is love and unless the two people in it are toxic for each other, leave them be.

   Sorry to get all preachy but not every norm is right.

~Peace