"Hey, Wells! Did you hear what I just said?"
"What?" I snapped out of my thoughts, looking back at the table of teenagers, the loud noises of the cafeteria surrounding us, "Oh no, sorry. What did you say again?" I asked the broad, blonde boy across from me.
"There's gonna be a dope party tonight at Derek's, you in?" Mark repeated.
"Oh, yeah okay." I wasn't particularly interested in going to this party, or any party for that matter, but I'd go anyways. I always did.
For a moment Mark gave me a look, as if he could tell what I was really thinking about, but another guy at the table said something to him and his attention was turned away from me. I guess you could say Mark was my best friend. I spent the most time with him anyways.
I glanced around at the rest of the teenagers at our lunch table. Most of the guys sported the same orange and blue varsity baseball jacket I had on, and the girls wore low cut shirts and short shorts. They were all talking, flirting, gossiping with each other and I couldn't help but slip into my own private thoughts once again.
I was part of what you would call "the popular crowd." It started when I entered freshman year of high school. I'd always been naturally athletic, so when I tried out for baseball in the spring I made varsity. I spent a lot of time with the team, between lifting, practicing, and games, so I eventually began hanging out with their crowd. It just felt like what I was supposed to do. However, despite the fact that I did the things they did, went to the places they went, I never quite felt like I was one of them. It always felt... fake to me, forced even. Sitting around, talking about sports or girls or some other topic I really wasn't interested in. But I did it anyways, I told myself I was happy, and I played along.
The bell rang and I was pulled back to reality yet again. I dumped my partially eaten lunch into the nearest trash can and began walking down the long blank hallway towards my next period class, English.
"Yo, Ryan." Mark came up behind me and slung an arm across my shoulders roughly, "You okay? You seem a bit off."
Like always, I made up an excuse, "Yea I'm fine, guess I'm just stressed about the game tonight, going up against Bridgewood and all."
Bridgewood was our biggest rival and the game against them was always a tense one.
"Don't be man, you always do great. I mean, you're not captain of the team like me," he mock bragged, winking at a small brunette girl as we passed her in the halls. She blushed and smiled shyly, the way most girls reacted around Mark. He continued, "but you're 'aight. Anyways, afterwords we have that sick party, and if we're lucky some Fenwick girls will show," He lowered his voice to a whisper, "I hear those Catholic school girls can get wild, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, I'm sure. Listen, I've got to get to Lit, I'll see you later."
"Alright, later dude." And with that, Mark was off, running down the hallway to catch up with some other members of the team.
---
When I got to my AP Lit class I took my usual seat and pulled out the book we were reading, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin. I flipped through the worn out pages. There were sections highlighted and notes I'd scratched all along the margins. Being the jock, it was expected that I would dislike school in general and especially having to read the 200 year old classic. But contrarily, I enjoyed reading, writing, and literature in general. And however Pride and Prejudice wasn't my favorite work, I still found myself intrigued by characters like Elizabeth and Darcy and lost myself in their 19th century English world.
