Dilemma McNair

Wake Up

Ruby reluctantly squinted as morning light came straight through her smudged windows. Her alarm blared obtrusively from her phone. She swiped to banish the sound as soon as possible, but it still rang in her ears. She sat up slowly from her warm tangle of sheets. "Just a few more days," Ruby said to the room. It didn't matter to her that there was no one in particular that she was talking too, she was alone most of the time anyways. She couldn't care less if others heard her talking to herself. If telling herself it was just a little bit longer until the end of school would get her through the torture of it, then she would say it. She wasn't about to be defeated by something torturous. If she was to be defeated (which she wasn't, she decided long ago) then she would go down with a fight and her story would carry on after her.

Ruby raised her hand to comb out the tangles that appeared at the back of her head every night, but her fingers came up empty. She smiled as her fingertips skimmed over thousands of short and bristly hairs.

At six fifty in the morning, she brushed her teeth.

At six fifty two, her morning breath had been sufficiently suppressed with wintergreen.

At seven, Ruby was watching herself blink slowly in the mirror. She looked much the same as she had the night before except she was now wearing pale denim short shirts and her track team t-shirt.

Seven o'five was when she walked through her kitchen and grabbed a Pop-tart from the freezer drawer. It wasn't long after that that the idea of testing limits came to her.

"So, Mother." She pulled at the silver foil that separated her from her breakfast. "What will it be this time? Are you going to reprimand or give me the cold shoulder?"

Mother bent to put a stack of the previous night's dishes into the dishwasher, "Ruby--"

"Ruby, Ruby, Ruby, when will that ever mean anything."

"Ruby!" Mother straightened and grabbed at a pile of spoons, "Get your attitude in check."

"Good morning Mother." Ruby stomped her foot onto the trash can's footpedal, "I got a hair cut. What do you think."

Mother glared in her direction as her daughter slung her tearing backpack over her shoulder. "I think that you should have consulted with me before chopping it."

"Do you ever trust my decisions?" She grasped the handle of the front door.

"Not lately, I don't. I don't think you know what everyone will think of you now, or what they'll think of me as a mother. I think you need to start thinking your decisions through better. Your haircut was a mistake, and there are only so many more mistakes you can make in a row."

"I've a track meet tonight, so don't bother waiting up." Ruby slammed the door behind her and set off down the street. Stuffing chunks of Pop-tart into her mouth, she automatically began rewinding the film of her memories to watch her grand exit again. It went in jumps, skipping forwards to the loudest comments, or her biggest reactions. And then she thought of how she slammed the door. She jogged across the street and turned the corner. Maybe she was pushing Mother a bit. But not so much as to say that she always made mistakes. She shoved more Pop-tart into her mouth and swallowed, "Just a few more days."

The squashed yellow nose of a school bus stared blankly at her as she crossed the street. She knew the kids inside the bus were oblivious to what was beyond the glass that sat beside them, so she walked unseen. For the four years that she had spent walking to school, she had never been able to decide whether or not she was glad to be ignored in the morning. It certainly made life simpler, but every now and then, a sudden burst of loneliness would filter through also.

Ruby's backpack bumped lightly against her lower back and she rubbed the base of her neck almost nervously. Stepping through the front doors of the school, Ruby watched as students milled about by their lockers. They shoved backpacks and sports gear into their lockers, tugged messy binders and torn textbooks out, slammed the lockers shut and didn't turn an eye towards Ruby.

Her faded navy blue converse tread their usual path to her locker alongside the countless other pairs of flipflops, running shoes, flats, sandals, and work boots. Based on the feet that tread the hallway, nothing was different about the Tuesday morning. The first comment didn't come until Ruby was just around the corner from the Senior hallway.

Gina was a bubbly girl on the track team known for the 100m. "I like it." She slammed her locker shut and the papers taped to it fluttered lightly.

"Thanks." Ruby couldn't help but smile faintly.

"Are you ready for the track meet tonight?"

She shrugged, "Sure, I guess. It's not like we've never had a track meet before."

"Yeah, well, I have to get going. I need to talk to Mr. Norburry before class starts." Gina shouldered her Pink bag, "You should go see how that Sophomore, Cary, did your locker."

Ruby nodded as she retreated.

Ruby turned the corner and watched her feet while she passed the walls flanked with her classmates and their bottle green lockers. When she looked up occasionally she could see streamers and inspirational notes pasted hurriedly to lockers by lowerclassmen for the track meet. When she reached the end of the hallway, she reached her locker, decked like a Christmas tree with green and white streamers, pictures of her at previous track meets accepting awards and in action, ornate letters spelling out her name and quotes from Olympian gold medalists. She sighed, of course she had to have the locker that was decked to the nines.

38-12-5. She twisted her locker combo into place and yanked on her lockers. The door rattled as it swung open and the papers fluttered slightly against the cold metal. Ruby pulled out her binder, math textbook and pencil-- just enough to get her through the first three periods.

Ruby sat in the back of class during English, her only honours class. She had comments streaming in throughout the day of 'nice haircut' and 'looking good', though she was certain that a handful of them could have been quite sarcastic. She was glad that she was able to snag a seat in the back in any case because it saved her the questions. She felt no inner urge to tell anyone the 'why' behind her haircut.

At lunch she sat with a handful of girls who were also on the track team. Gina was going on about how they would have to compete against Jamestown and their best sprinters new record for the 100m. "Oh my god, so apparently she got a time of 11.22."

"And that's for the 100m?"

"Yeah, I'm so dead this afternoon."

"If you make it past the math test, that is."

"Oh my god, is that today!" Gina grabbed for her notes while the other girls laughed and turned their attention away from her.

"So, Ruby, the stats I've been reading make it look like your record is going to be up in the top four."

"Really?"

"What, with your record of like eleven meters, of course."

"Pft, your just saying that."

"No, I'm not."

"Okay, fine. Then how are you ranking against the other schools?"

"Oh, you really want to know, do you?"

"Yeah," Ruby gave a slight grin, "I do."

"I'm number one. Everyone else is trailing in the dust behind me."

She roled her eyes, "Jamestowns got nothing on you."

"That's right." The girl winked. "Hey, do you need to, like, borrow a headband or something later at the meet?"

"Hm? Why?"

"There's no way coach is going to let you get away with those bangs."

Ruby combed through her bangs slowly with her fingers, "Oh, yeah. Thanks." Never was her life live and let live. Sure, she could live with Coach, just not Mother.