Pep rallies in this tiny school are anything but small. The senior class is about one hundred kids, but we make the sound of an asteroid crashing to earth. Everyone is screaming, laughing, cheering for their friends. Jonah is silent at my side until he sees Vince. His voice cracks as he screams his lungs out, veins in his neck popping out. I see Lyra on the other side of the gym, but she is too busy trying to get one of the band kids to hang out with her. She always had a thing for guys with instruments. I could see this one particular boy was not swayed by her shoulder touching and warm smile. He is staring at her face like she is the scum of the city. Her movements get heavier as she realizes her defeat. She gives him a half wave and sits down beside a girl whose motive is to finish the novel in her hands. She slumps her body, her chin balanced perfectly in her hand, her eyes on the basketball team. The cheerleaders are flying legs and short skirts with every boy drooling in their seats and every girl envying the very spots they cheer in. "Alright, everyone!" Mr. Pockles, the principle, walks to the middle of the gym, microphone dangerously close to his mustard infested mouth. His three piece brown suit has hints of his lunch, a turkey sandwich, not forgetting the mustard. "Who is ready to have a good time today?" His voice booms in the gym, and the cheers and hollers get louder. He waits for a good five seconds, and motions for the students to shut up. "Let's welcome out the sports!" The coaches and captains scurry out to the spotlight, only four of them; basketball, track, cheer, and football. The teams start to walk out as each coach calls them out by name. The school erupts when the basketball team displays all of the best athletes. That's when I see her. Her head is held high like a general leading her army into battle. Her face is lit with a smile that is genuine. My heart drops when my screams echo in my head. "Hey, can we leave?" Jonah nudges me, and I can see why he is uncomfortable. Vince had jumped onto the bleachers and plucked his sophomore girlfriend out of the crowd and was carrying her on his back, her head tipped back with laughter. "Yeah, this blows anyways," I mumble, and we sneak past the teachers and out the back door of the gym.
"I can't believe he did that," Jonah sighs, his long, lean frame on the brick wall. I shrug, and pull out my own cigarette pack. I pick one out of the pack and hold it between my lips, my teeth gently clinging to the butt. "You smoke?" Jonah looks at me with new eyes. I light the cigarette and breathe in smooth smoke. "Yeah, it's not the greatest habit, but eh." I have no urge to explain why I kept Camel close to my heart. Jonah keeps eying the pack I had in my hand, and I offered him one. He hesitates, like it's a test. "What the hell," he mutters, slipping one out of the pack and lighting it. "I deserve this," he closes his eyes as the smoke surrounds us. The metal door slams shut and we both jump, trying to hide our secrets behind our backs. "It's okay, it's just me." A small voice belongs to the one girl who had the most confidence in the gym. Becca sits at my feet and leans her head on the cool brick. Her skin is flushes, and this is the first time I see her out of sorts. "Are you okay?" Jonah asks, and she looks up at him with red rimmed eyes. "Yes," she says no tears visible sliding down her cheeks. "You're a bad liar." I say, blowing smoke over her small body. She doesn't even flinch as the smoke settles on her clothes. "Aren't you supposed to be out there being all preppy?" I say, and Jonah snorts. "Why do you make fun of this?" Her voice comes from her crumbled up body, just a used tissue. I open my mouth to speak, but I'm at a loss for words. "Yes, please Brea, explain your hatred for the preppy of the jocks?" Jonah looks down at me, his sadness from before completely gone. "I just think they're all full of themselves." I squeeze out of my closed throat, and get a reply quickly and quietly. "It's you who is full of herself." The hole in the wall ally way gets silent. Her words hang like a piano on a breaking thread. "I am not full of myself." Her body starts to shake, and I realize it's because she is laughing. She rests her head on her legs, her features turned up toward me, cheeks dry, smile out. "What?" I want to be pissed at her, but I too busy being astonished on how pretty she looks. "Come to the track tomorrow morning. I want to show you something." She gets up, long legs helping her up. She takes my hand, captures the burning cigarette between her full lips, and takes in smoke. I watch her in awe as she straightens up, nods at Jonah, and then her eyes are on me. She winks at me, and blows out a stream of faded smoke. Her leaving ends the same as she came, a slam of the door. I look at Jonah, my eyes huge. He starts to try and form words, but all I can make out is, "I have no idea." I turn back to my ending cigarette, my eyebrows scrunching up. Who was this girl?
YOU ARE READING
Heart Burns
Teen Fiction"Your perspective on life comes from the cage you were held captive in."
