Behind Secret Eyes

Game Day

Game day. Buzzards vs the Vikings. A series of vile language induced competition ensues. Richmond high prepares for a hopeful day of victory.

Only in the world of sports did a scavenger bird and a extremely aggressive Viking fighting make sense. I never did understand football.

I'm a book person. Hook me up with some Emily Bronte or some J.K Rowling, id talk a mile a minute. Or more like read a mile a minute. I'm not that much of a talker either.

Charles Darwin explained high school best. survival of the fittest. Which ironically has nothing to do with brains, or evens bronze but who you talk too and how long. Lets say for instance you been best friends with Emily Coolige since 5th grade, had matching ugly Christmas sweaters and a corny heart shaped necklace that she gave you in 8th grade. That along with long shiny blond hair and a lifetime membership with Victoria Secrets, then maybe you'd be high up on the social ladder. Me on the other hand. I'm what you'd call invisible.

Not by choice, obviously. It was like some twisted universal force got to decide who was noticed in high school and who didn't. Who was blessed with certain endowments and well you know some not so much.

Off topic.

Pep rally day. Spirit day.

Or living hell to someone like me who desperately needs the library on a day like this, but the librarian was currently waving her pom poms around with red and gold glittery stripes on her face.

"Jessica!"

Turning I spot Izzy, my one and only friend. Izzy unlike me is higher up on the social ladder. She's a good goalie on our soccer team. Beautiful, even though she always has her blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her brown eyes always shine with kindness, even when she's mad at you. That's probably what I like most about her. We've been best fiends since 2th grade when she stole my sparkly elephant pen.

Big Grey elephant heads with silver sparkles outlining the edges. It was my favorite pen. One my father gave to me after he came back from a business trip to Africa. I cried when she took it. Not a small cry either. A water leaking, snot dripping cry. she apparently felt bad about it and returned it the next day. Then, we mutually bonded over our mutual dislike for the color yellow. Funny how looking at someone can bring back memories like that.

"What?"

" are you going to the pep rally?"

...pep rally...

I looked back at the library almost Longingly. I didn't really like being cramped in a room with two thousand sexually frustrated, pot smoking, and sweat smelling teens.

I could never be a teacher.

Izzy waved her hand in my face frantically.

" Hello earth to Jessica, are you going or not?"

"I don't really have a choice do I?"

"no not really, come on lets go."

she grabbed my hand, dragging me down the hall towards the gym. Going through the double doors you were meet with a crowd of screaming people. The bleachers were crammed with students, while the teachers were standing off towards the sides looking for visible saliva swapping and hand holding. PDA was severely frowned upon in Richmond high.

Izzy lead me towards the middle of the bleachers, hopping up the stairs two at a time while I tried not to fall on my face.

"slow down Izzy!", I hissed almost falling on to a couple of eyeliner smeared gothics who shot me a look like they would curse my soul.