The Ribbon Campaign

seven || of groceries and homes

The week passes by quick, and soon enough, it's a couple of days before I have to make the speech to the school board. I'm almost constantly practicing, and have the speech so engraved in my mind they may as well by my last words. Bryce still helps me out a bit and has let me know multiple times that I'm a horrible public speaker.

Sadie hasn't been much of a help, which would have bothered me, but we both know that she's even worse than me in English, so it's not much of a loss. She has supported me, though, telling my constantly how I should, "Chill," because everything was going to be fine. I appreciate her enthusiasm but I just can't help feel extremely nervous.

This Ribbon Campaign has really spread, there's no denying that. In the mall, I've seen people walking around with small ribbons tied around their wrists, which had me practically screaming. Of course, it was mostly teenagers, but I saw some younger kids doing it too. It's still crazy to me that this type of thing is actually spreading so quickly, although I really shouldn't be- it's not an exaggeration when people say that gossip spreads like wildfire.

It's Wednesday after school that Bryce approaches me at my locker. "Hey," I say, raising an eyebrow as he leans against the locker beside me. "Ready?"

I let out an exasperated breath, closing my locker and looking at Bryce tiredly. "Ready for what, Bryce?" I ask slowly.

"Glad you're excited to see me," he says, making me roll my eyes. God, sometimes he exhausts me. "And to help me with math."

Staring blankly at him, I wait for an answer, only to let out (yet another) heavy sigh when he doesn't explain. "Why would I help you with math."

"Well." Bryce pulls out his phone and opens up our texts messages, scrolling up. "As I quote, I'll help you with math if you help me with a speech. I helped you with a speech, you get to help me with math."

"You make it sound like it's a privilege."

"It's is! You get to spend more time with me- forget privilege, it's an honour."

I roll my eyes, something that I seem to do a lot in the presence of Bryce. "As long as you're not conceited or anything."

"Conceited, nice word for a girl getting a fifty in English."

"I'm not getting a fifty! I'm getting a sixty."

Bryce laughs loudly, catching the attention of students walking by, but he doesn't seem to care. "Oh, Jesus, I'm so sorry. A sixty."

My locker neighbour, Mary, comes by and politely asks Bryce to move, since he's leaning against her locker. Mary is painfully shy to the point where her voice is so quiet that Bryce doesn't hear her the first time and I have to push him aside before Mary trembles to death. Bryce apologizes, giving me a weird look, like, What's up with her? I try to tell him to screw off in the glare I send back to him, but Bryce has always been too thick headed to get a clue.

"What's with you?" he asks Mary bluntly.

I cover my face with my hands. "Oh my God."

"S-Sorry," Mary whispers, her shaky hands going to her lock, avoiding eye contact. There's shy, and then there's Mary shy. I feel bad for her, honestly. Ever since freshmen year she has been practically unable to keep up a conversation with anyone, except for her boyfriend Mike, who she's known since they were kids. I want to know exactly what happened to make her so shy, or if she's just been like that her whole life, but I know that I could never get her to talk to me long enough to get her to tell me.

I move my hands to see Bryce raise an eyebrow. "Hey, don't be sorry. I'm Bryce."

Mary smiles ever so slightly. "I k-know." Because everyone knows who Bryce is. Bryce, however, only seems to get acquainted to people that will be of benefit to him, which is probably why he didn't even know of Mary's existence.