In the crowded world that is Wellsbury, Marcus found her─his star girl.
or
In which Dallas finds someone to love after the traumatic events of her past
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Highest Rankings:
#3 in Netflix
#1 in Marcusbaker
#1 in Mang, norah...
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Chapter Thirty One: Ginny's Song Episode Eight: Check One, Check Another
tw; self-harm, indications of rape
"Growing up in a lot of places I thought I belong with my family. However, through developing and experience, I've realized where I most belong is by myself, with my music..." After Dallas read out her essay, Ginny went. Her's was in a poem formation, taking inspiration from those she saw the other night. She began, "Growing up, I thought that...Growing up, I thought people were born with their heads cocked because that's how they've always looked at me. Boxes...check one, check other. People don't know."
"They don't furrow between the layers like I do. They don't switch and twitch and actively make the decisions of which...which part of me belongs today? Which aspect of my personality will offend the least and blend the most, and work and succeed and bury the lead like a switchboard of traits that decide my fate, and I'm always an impostor? Always lost, always asking for directions, and people point my way like the scarecrow. Like tornadoes blowing me whichever way the wind blows.--
--Well, Dorothy doesn't want to play today. She's prepping for the SAT. Just the Scantron. The box is empty, and glaring and daring me to choose one. Well, I'm an expert at boxes. My whole life can fit inside it, and I've got it down to a science. I can pack my entire identity in an hour 'cause where there's roots, there's power, but I'm all topsoil." She spoke.
"My blood runs like water and oil refusing to stick. My dad's old books, read in secret nooks. That camera that locks all my memories in a flash, saved for when my recollection doesn't last. That lighter that sparked that fire. All fit in a box ready to be carried from door to door. But that's not the kind of box people ever ask for. So many lines in the sand, so many cant's and cans. I see both worlds so clearly, and I skip and jump and dance and fall between, never seen. I belong in the spaces between. Check all that may apply." Ginny finished. It was a rant, a tangent, but a good one. One that made Maxine and Dallas yell at people to raise on their feet and clap.
"And the winner is." Mr Gitten started. "Actually, the winners are, Hunter and Dallas." Mr Gitten announced making Dallas gasp. Her piece was about her and music. Specifically the Neighborhood, of course. She didn't expect to win because it was bland, but she did. Hunter looked over at her and she smiled. Ginny clapped awkwardly. "You were robbed." Maxine said, pointing to a nodding Dallas.
The bell rang and Hunter came over to Dallas, fist bumping her. "We did good." Hunter spoke as Dallas grabbed her pink bag. "Yeah." Dallas said, accepting his side hug as they walked out the door.
