Play Like A Girl

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anything but mathletes

In the third bathroom to the right on the first floor of Maple Ridge Academy there is a message painted on the wall. It reads simply, it was not poetry nor was it deep in any way, it is just a simple note. 'The clock is ticking. Do it.'
The problem was that Posey Jones didn't know what to do. She could practically hear the seconds ticking in her head, building and building to a crescendo as she avoided her inevitable destiny. She could practically hear the claws scratching at the walls, threatening to bust in, threatening her. She could imagine the slamming on the door and the screaming in the halls. It was all there, in her head, and she had no clue what to do.

In actuality the room was silent. The tile was cold, obnoxiously cold, and there was no sound of ticking or screaming or pounding, just the steady drip from the leaky sink faucet. She was sitting in the corner farthest from the toilet to be sure she wasn't sitting in a spot where someone had done their business. Of course, she couldn't be positive, she could only hope. Her phone was open on her lap to texts with her mom, texts that had been going back and forth for ten minutes. Her father would be suspicious of what she was doing soon, but she still had time.

It was her first day shadowing at Maple Ridge Academy, trailing behind her father and walking to all the classes on her "for now schedule" as there was no promise she'd actually be in any of those classes with any of those people. Maple Ridge Academy was a rich kid school high in the mountains of Maine, school colors were purple and gold, school spirit was absolutely insane. Just walking into the building she was met instantly with purple and gold murals reading "Have Pride in Your Pride!" and "Go Lions!" it was all very, very spirited. The people were just as interesting as the school itself. Maple Ridge High was filled with the perfect mix between brilliant academics and amazing sport phenoms that had been offered "academic scholarships" to play for the school. Posey was a mix between both, good enough grades that they wanted her for mathletes, but good enough at lacrosse that when her father got a new job in the area she was a shoo in.

So far, she wasn't loving it.

Which would explain why she was sitting on the floor in the third bathroom to the right, desperately trying to avoid a meeting with her brand new guidance counselor. She was sure that the man would tell her all sorts of things in that meeting, things like "You have to play varsity lacrosse for us or you can't go to school here" or maybe "Join mathletes or you're kicked out." She'd rather be kicked out than have to join mathletes, but that's besides the point. She would play girls lacrosse for them, but she heard so many rumors about the girls during her school day that it was becoming less and less appealing. She had played girls lacrosse her whole life, since the second grade, and expected to be playing for the best team in their class at Maple Ridge, but she was hearing that the girls lacrosse program was shit. Like a stinky pile of shit topped with shit, with a tiny sprinkling of more shit. She didn't sign on to be fixing up a shit pile, especially when she was so rusty from playing for a shit program the year prior.
And not only were they shit, she had heard that they were rude shit. Rude, angry little shits that would get mad if they didn't win and with that team, they'd never win! It was all so frustrating that she was just sitting on the bathroom floor avoiding the problem. Maybe she could try boys lacrosse, she could handle the contact. Maybe. No, probably not.

She groaned out loud and checked her phone for a response from her mom. Her mom was probably her best friend through it all. After her dad had lost his job she and her mom had been side by side, urging him to apply all around the state just so they could bring in more money. At that moment, she was texting her mom in a panic telling her all the shitty things that had happened all day and begging to go back to her old school. These people were crazy! Literally insane! She hadn't made a single friend, the lacrosse program was probably awful and they were probably all super rude and she didn't want to do mathletes. Her mom always knew what to say, but her mom was at work, doing some cheap retail job until her dad was getting his full paycheck again. She was helpless, alone, staring at a useless message on the wall telling her to do it. Do what?