Chorus Line ｡ Ricky Bowen

― one

01. | PICK ME!
❝ bake club or lacrosse?❞

          EAST HIGH WAS A DIFFERENT KIND OF HELL. Not the brimstone and the orange flames and the devil perched on her throne created from bones of the dead, no, it was the kind of hell where you saw a sea of faces, and they saw you, but you never once created a bond to hold onto like a lifeline. Elizabeth Bedoya was the girl at East High drowning in laughter, inside jokes and first love and there was nobody around to pull her to the surface. She had no lifeline. She was used to it though, and maybe that was the saddest thing about being alone.

          Lizzie had not always been used to bumping through the hallways without somebody beside her, without somebody to share gossip with over lunch or somebody to always partner with in class. She had tried relentlessly to find somebody, just one single person, to befriend since middle school. But people were hard and frankly, she just was not very good at anything, including making friends. 

          Her parents had enrolled her into every single extracurricular activity since she was a child, not to simply find something she could put her best efforts into, but to have friends with similar interests. Her mother was a childhood psychologist, which meant she knew sport teams and clubs were one of the best ways to help children come out of their shells and to create friendships that could last years. However, despite her attempts, Lizzie simply could not grasp any kind of hope. Ballet had been a bust and basketball had resulted in a trip to the hospital to reset a dislocated shoulder. Debate included public speaking and Lizzie was too shy for that and have vomited on a judge half way through her rebuttal. The chess club kids had been cruel and film club was too pretentious. In all honestly, trying new things was not the problem, Lizzie Bedoya was the best at trying to find a hobby and a few friends, it was the fact nothing quite clicked into place.

          Eventually, Lizzie had put away her paint brushes and her soccer ball and came to one simple conclusion: she was not made for clubs or sport teams and she was definitely not made to have close friends in high school. She could only hope college would be better. 

          She had chosen to keep her head down in her sophomore year and quit the whole trying thing and for the most part, it had worked. She had focused on other things in her life; her grades and her dog, Stitch and her family. She figured her life was more simple without all the melodrama high school could bring. She would much rather drift through the sea of faces and fly under the radar until graduation came around, then she could move away and hopefully, be better. 

          Unfortunately, her parents had different ideas when summertime finally finished and junior year was upon the Bedoya family. 

          "Wait—back up, you want me to do what? I'm not joining an extracurricular. Not again."

          Lizzie was madly rushing around the kitchen, attempting to make some kind of makeshift lunch. She was already running late for her first day back at East High and did not need the extra stress right now. Her mother, Midge, was leaning against the countertop sipping her tea so calmly, as if she had not just thrown Lizzie's quiet life into the ocean and demanded she swim without any lessons. Lizzie's father, Harrison, was trying not to smile as he flipped through the morning paper. Romeo Murillo, Lizzie's second cousin, was sitting at the counter with his laptop open and his dressing gown in place. He was barely paying attention, too engrossed in his writing.  

          "You know how colleges are," Midge said, using her psychologist voice. "They're tough these days. You need to be perfect in their eyes."