Paradox

When Life Gives You Lemons...

You know it's pretty hard to be positive when your life goes through a negative spiral of events. As I lay in bed hitting the snooze button for the 4th time I drag myself out from under the sheets, still in my work uniform from yesterday. I shuffled to the bathroom, getting ready as my best friend Safia burst through the door of my cramped apartment.

"How are you holding up Bea?" She spoke in a concerned, loud voice as she took in my appearance.

"I feel the same as I did yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that..." I mumbled

"Okay, Bea I get the point!" She sighed.

"Maybe you should consider visiting the guidance counselor... I'm worried about you."

"Safia I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, but I'm fine!"

She and I both knew that was a lie.

I had just lost my aunt, two weeks ago from cancer. I had been living with her for five years now since I moved to New York from South Africa. This was after my parents were in a fatal car accident and died shortly after. My aunt was all the family I had left, now I had no one... who knew you could lose so much in a short period of time.
I struggle to quickly get ready, buttoning the white collared shirt of my uniform, then throwing my long chestnut hair in a messy ponytail.

"We're going to be late!" Safia hollered.

"Only by ten minutes, that's a new record," I say taunting my punctually obsessed friend. She rolls her eyes at me as I grab my book bag off the floor, and we start off our journey to the hell known as Maxwell Prep, the school for the gifted and talented.

Now if you're expecting Maxwell to be your typical gossip girl cliche prep school, then you're mistaken. At Maxwell, you're here either because your rich and simply want to say you go there or you're actually gifted/talented. It's very hard these days to come by kids here with actual talent. They are simply just rich and self-entitled.

Now for me that's totally different I'm here based on a scholarship, I have avidly played the violin and the cello since I was five years old. I don't come from money either, I'm actually the complete opposite. As for Safia, she had it all the money, talent, and not to mention beauty and a heart of gold.

Walking through the halls to your left you will see the group of photographers, they're artistically weird but it works for them. To your right, you will see the drama enthusiast and I'm not just talking on stage either but they tend to make this school's stale existence quiet exciting. Up ahead you will see the athletes in all their glory, they tend to be the most popular based on the fact that they give the school a 'great' reputation.

Standing in front of the technology and academics ward you will see the academically talented, I had always admired them nothing ever seemed to faze them. But wait I'm not quite done yet the group we have all been waiting for...New Yorks elite children, they stand and talk every morning in the school's courtyard. There they stand with their freshly tanned Hampton skin, their designer purses, and shoes perfectly matched with their crisply pressed uniforms. Everyone either loves to hate them or loves to love them. Of course, most of them don't have the talent or the gifts eligible to be at this school. But they have something far more important money, 1/3 of their last names are plastered all over the schools' campus.

As for me, you ask? I don't really fit into anywhere the music department is very small at our school and even then I still don't fit in. Its been me and Safia for the past 3 years, you have me socially awkward, and Safia, a girl that could easily fit in with anyone but decided that she would stick to me out of all people. Not that I'm complaining. Once again after all she had everything, she was a talented dancer at our school and academically talented. What more could you ask for?

Passing through the hallways on our way to AP Lang, I noticed a poster for this year's Junior exchange trip to Greece. Every year our school sends 8 students out of the junior class to a country for a semester to learn the arts and culture. I had to admit it was intriguing.

"Hey, Bea this may be just what you need. You should consider applying!" Safia said.

" Oh please, Saf out of all the students applying what makes you think that I would stand out?"

"Now Beatrice your smart and you're talented why wouldn't they consider you!"

"Ok, Saf I will consider applying if you apply as well."

"Girl I'm two steps ahead of you, I turned mine in a week ago!"

"Of course you did," I said as I rolled my eyes.

As I walked in the only seat available was next to Milo Carter, he was also in the music department with me. He specialized in all things string but he was especially good at the harp.

I had always looked up to him and quite frankly I have had a major crush on him since freshman year. He had brilliant grey eyes which went great with his olive skin and the beautiful dark brown curls that fell against his forehead.

I sat down next to him and he gave me a cheeky smile. This was enough to make me blush.

"Hi..." I spoke meekly.

After the bell rung dismissing us to our freedom I dashed down the hallway making sure not to be late for my shift today. Right as I was about to exit the school I saw the flyers for the junior trip and grabbed one.

I arrived at the bakery where I worked after all I was all alone now which meant I needed to take care of myself. I lived right above the bakery in the tiny apartment which I had moved to after my aunt died. The owner Ms. Manceli had offered me a job and the apartment above after hearing my circumstance. Bless that lady she was now the only adult figure I had in my life, she had been so nice to me these past weeks.

My shift lasted until 7:00 in the evening, and lucky for me it was about that time. I gathered my stuff and headed upstairs. My bag fell opened and all my things fell out, upon the floor laid the form for the junior trip. As I picked it up I thought about it, was this really what I needed, a change of pace? After all, my mother always said when life gives you lemons make lemonade. Maybe this was the lemon life was trying to hand to me. I ran to my room to get a pen and started to fill the form out.