The cafeteria hummed with a chaotic rhythm, a blend of laughter, snarky comments, and the clatter of trays that resonated through the high ceilings. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting warm golden rays across the sea of students like some kind of cheesy movie scene. I sat at a corner table with Marie, my stomach a twisted knot of excitement and nerves as we awaited the results of the soccer tryouts from a week ago.
I poked at my lunch, the food barely touched. It looked about as appetizing as a half-eaten sandwich left out in the sun. My mind raced with thoughts of the tryouts, the memory of sprinting down the field, heart pounding like a jackhammer. Every kick and pass had felt exhilarating, yet the fear of uncertainty loomed over me, a weight pressing down like an anvil on my chest. "What do you think?" I asked Marie, glancing sideways at her, noting the sparkle of enthusiasm in her eyes.
"I know you made the team! You were incredible out there!" Marie's face lit up, her confidence infectious. She had been a constant source of encouragement, like a relentless cheerleader with a bullhorn, reminding me of my potential in those moments when I felt like a total dumpster fire. I admired her ability to light up any room with her energy, a brightness that seemed to set off fireworks in the dreary high school abyss.
"Yeah, but you know how competitive it is," I replied, a hint of anxiety creeping into my voice. "What if I didn't do enough?" My fingers fidgeted with the edge of my lunch tray, my thoughts spiraling into a sea of "what-ifs," each one more ridiculous than the last.
"You did more than enough! You gave it your all," Marie insisted, her tone firm and reassuring, like a coach in a sports movie who believes in the underdog. "Even if you didn't make it, it wouldn't change how incredible you are." She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto mine, as if she could see the doubt swirling inside me like a hurricane.
A warmth spread through me at her unwavering support, like I was wrapped in a cozy blanket while the world outside was an ice storm. "Thanks, Marie. That really means a lot," I said, a smile breaking through my uncertainty. It felt like I was receiving a little spark of hope from her belief.
Once we finished our lunches, the anticipation thickened in the air, students buzzing around us, glancing at their phones and whispering about the announcement. I focused on Marie's reassuring presence, pushing aside my anxiety to embrace the flutter of excitement that danced in my stomach. It was almost as if we were in our own little bubble, separate from the chaos of the cafeteria, lost in our conversation.
After clearing our trays, we made our way to the bulletin board, where the results were set to be posted. The hallway pulsed with energy, students rushing past us, their laughter echoing off the walls like a bad sitcom. As we approached the board, my heart raced in tandem with my footsteps, each beat echoing my hopes and fears. I could feel my palms growing sweaty, like I'd just run a marathon, as the moment drew closer.
"Okay, here goes nothing," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper as I inched closer to the paper. My heart thumped loudly in my chest, drowning out the chatter of students around us.
The list was long, and my pulse quickened as I scanned the names, fingers trembling slightly like I was trying to pick a lock. Taking a deep breath, I focused my gaze, willing myself to find my name amid the others. I was determined to stay focused, to block out the noise around me.
And then, there it was: Dylan Thompson. The moment felt surreal, disbelief flooding my system before reality slammed into me like a freight train. "I made it!" I exclaimed, my voice slicing through the murmur of excitement around us like a hot knife through butter. A wave of relief and exhilaration washed over me, lifting the heavy weight of anxiety from my chest.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Who Was Supposed to Die (GirlXGirl)
Teen Fiction--- In the dead of night, Dylan stands on the edge of a bridge, her mind heavy with the pain she's carried for years. The world around her feels as distant and cold as the dark waters below-a mirror to the weight of her broken family and lingering s...
