The 5 Lies They Tell You About High School

Courtney

She was thin, and she was tall. Her hair flowed down her back like a chocolate river. When she walked, she demanded attention. When she talked, she demanded attention. Everything Courtney ever did was out of more attention for herself than on anyone else around.

I first met Courtney in middle school. A friend of mine had asked me why I “barked” at Courtney, saying that that was the reason why she did not like me. I was in horror. I had never barked at anyone. Especially Courtney because I didn’t even know who she was. I spent the rest of that day explaining to whoever would listen that I thought Courtney was a nice person. Then, when I finally found out who she was, I apologized repeatedly for the actions I never committed. Just when I thought her and I were friends, she asked me what my name was on the first day of sophomore year.

“It’s Brooke.” I said to her.

“Oh, right.” Courtney rolled her eyes, crossing her legs, as if my name was nothing special because she knew it the whole time. “Do you understand what we’re supposed to be doing?”

I glanced at the white board hung on the wall in front of the class. Meeting Courtney’s eyes, I replied, “We’re just writing down the notes.”

“I have to use the restroom,” Courtney slapped her pencil on her desk. “Do it for me, yeah?” She flashed me a pearly white and perfectly straight smile.

“Yeah, sure.” I was quick to comply.

From my lunch table that same day, I watched Courtney float from table to table. She would stand by a lunch table and talk to those sitting there until someone called her name from somewhere else. Then, she would create conversation with those at another table. I spent everyday watching Courtney live up her high school career. I watched Courtney bounce from her age friends to senior age friends.

What does it feel like to be well-known? What does it feel like to walk into a class and everyone light up at your presence? What is it like to be good at everything you try?

I fantasized throughout my freshman year of the things I wanted. Not materialistic things that would make me look like Courtney, but my whole entire being that would make me be a Courtney. What did I need to change about myself to be loved?

During class one day, I slipped out my journal from my backpack and wrote intensely. My peers walked by me, carrying on with their conversations, but everything was silent to me. What I was writing was important. I couldn’t get distracted. Once this idea entered my head, I needed to get all down before I forgot it’s brilliance.

How to be Courtney:

Always come to school in your best dress.

Be confident.

Be fearless.

At least try... to be perfect.

I shoved my journal back into my backpack as soon as the bell rung. Maybe it was too late to turn my freshman year around, but it wasn’t too late to stop sophomore year from being a wreck.

So freshman year did not go as planned. My group of friends severed, my once-upon-a-time best friend broke her promise, and I was spending everyday alone at lunch because I didn’t know how to just jump in and make new friends. I was sad that the perfect plans I had made weren’t going to happen. Despite my pessimistic thoughts, I knew that junior year was going to be different. Or I was going to die trying.