School Spirit

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Short shorts, the quarter back’s jersey, and cheer practice are what many people would associate with my name, well right after the name Charleston High and of course that is before they have even seen my face. After they have seen my face it splits off into what gender they are, female or male. If they are male they become hormone crazed boys and of course the females become secretly, or not so secretly envious. Being the cheer captain, offensive center on the co-ed soccer team, and M.V.P of the girls’ basketball team was only part of what made me get unanimously voted “spirit” of Charleston High. Popular did not even begin to describe me, but slut was never a title bestowed upon me, in fact anyone who did know me was aggravated by my clear indifference to popularity, cheer leading, and well impression in general. No makeup ever coated my face, why? Well simply because it wasn’t needed. I kept my face clean my eyelashes were naturally dark. Honestly though, I was quite opposed to the idea of loads of sparkles and what not coating my face. Since Jr. High I had made a complete turn-around from being the unnoticeable Tom boy to being the stunning image of perfection according to the school.

What many people didn’t know was that I was anything but perfect. With a father that I loved dearly always away in war or training for it who had absolutely dreadful taste in women I was left on my own working to pay the never ending bills. When I wasn’t at school, planning some sort of social activity, in practice for one thing or another, or delivering a speech I was loaded with work that I desperately needed to pay the bills. Jr. High was heaven in comparison even with the annoying Jock that was constantly attempting to get into my pants. Then there was only one of those since half of the population wasn’t even sure that I was female since I always wore baggy boys’ clothes and threw my hair up into a hat. My time had been spent playing basketball with the guys I had known since elementary and life was simple. That was before my second step mother died of a drug overdose which had been sort of sad I suppose not that I ever liked her very much with the way she threw around the hundred dollar bills. No I hadn’t been in Cinderella’s glass slippers but she and I just never clicked.

Then again she wasn’t nearly as bad as step mom number one who had cheated on my dad with his old best friend and rival, and from what I had heard actually settled down with him. Still they were both gold diggers, searching for easier money through marriage, money that my father certainly had. While he was born into it he had chosen the life of simplicity fishing, hunting, and playing ball with me. My favorite childhood memories were with my dad and my real mom but mainly my dad. Anne Marie Johnson Creed, my actual mother had been an angel of a women, well as far as I could recall before she had been brutally murdered when I was six in front of me although I never had the fortune or misfortune of seeing the man’s face.

I am sure you have heard enough of my dreadfully boring past but I can honestly say my life never got much better no matter how much people believed me to be living the dream life it was anything but. If I were to describe my life in one word I would say stressful. With my supposed best friend, and co-captain of the cheer leading squad Tasha constantly breathing down my neck and attempting to convince me of the importance of appearances I don’t how I made it past freshman year. Honestly though I did love Charleston High, if I didn’t I would have turned down the position of the “spirit” of it even though the vote had been unanimous. The school presidency was practically run by me since I dealt with everything that fell under the sports or party category. They were left to deal with things like the band gatherings and the orchestra’s field trips which I occasionally helped with depending on whether or not the Principal deemed it important enough to ask me to assist with. The only field where I was not considered perfect in was academics.

History was simple, easy really since my father was a total history nerd and loved strategies but English, besides the reading part was a nightmare. Why you might ask? Well it was time consuming plain and simple, someone like me who never had any time found the lengthy essays to be torturous especially since I was striving for an all around scholarship. While I bash on English it is nowhere near as mind numbingly painful as the head twirling subject known as math, everybody knows that when you first enter school math is easy, enjoyable even but as soon as they sneak those “X’s” and imaginary numbers in on you it becomes hopeless. Admittedly I should have been a lost cause by now but due to ridiculous amounts of hard work, the various coaches pleading, and the principal’s strange notion that I was needed and while he couldn’t just hand me an A on a silver platter he wouldn’t allow my grades to drop below a C, I got stuck with one on one learning time with the teachers.