The Purple Velvet Secret Society

-- Part 12 --

Over the weekend, I begin my Algebra 2 poem -- and I think I'm going to fail this assignment already. It's bad enough that most of the words are not used in real life, but my creativity is pretty much non-existent. Liam will do awesome on this one, I think to myself. He gets amazing grades in English.

I glance over at the list once again and begin to circle words that I think will work in a poem -- I need nine. "System.... constant... degree....." This will be a bit easier than I thought.

Araluen -- Algebra 2 Poem -- 9/18

Beautiful?

The lake stretches out horizontally,

I descend the slope to where the tree roots are

My reflection in the lake I find beautiful -- to a degree

But wait -- a duck quacks nearby, and I leave

After all, this is his domain

However, I remain wondering about my face and that of my relations

Although I am aware of the many factors involved in one's appearance

And that outer beauty is never constant

Why does inequality exist in the world?

Why is she beautiful -- and I am not?

I finish revising it for the third time (which takes about 40 minutes) and finally sit back. It's most certainly not perfect, but I can't quite pinpoint what's wrong, and I'm too lazy to try.

I'm going to look so dumb when I present this Friday. I sigh and press the 'print' button.

Apart from noticing Liam and eating lunch with Natalie and her friends, the next few days at school pass rather normally. I remember to keep an eye out for any Purple Velvet Representatives, and at lunch Wednesday some of my suspicions seem to be confirmed.

As we agreed earlier that morning, Sarah brings her Psychology homework to our lunch table, and we work through this particularly hard worksheet together while Natalie and Megan look on.

"I wish I was taking Psychology. It looks so fun." Natalie says wistfully.

"Are you saying you don't like Writing Workshop?" Sarah teases, and Natalie appears to blush, although once she glances at me her expression becomes guarded again. I recall that Liam is also in Writing Workshop, but if Natalie really likes Liam like I suspect she does, why would she care about me knowing?

We finish the worksheet in a somewhat awkward silence, and as we clean up our books, Sarah drops her pencil box and the contents spill out onto the ground. "Oops!" Remembering the Blue River values, I stoop to help, but amid various pens and pencils I see a pocket mirror with purple glass backing.

Instinctively I reach for it, but Sarah grabs it quickly and gives me an odd look, as if she would suspect me of trying to steal it. Thinking quickly, I keep my expression from showing any of the anger inside me at her distrust and instead say, "That looks fragile. Is it broken?"

My implied thoughtfulness seems to calm her down, and she checks it over briefly. "No, I don't think so." She then adds sheepishly, "It's a family heirloom. I would hate to break it."

I nod, but all I can think about is that my bracelet was passed down from my grandmother to me. Could the same be for Sarah?

After school that day, I stand at my locker packing up. My mind is whirring with so many things: Sarah and her possible association with the Purple Velvet Secret Society, Natalie (or is it all three of them?) liking Liam, Liam liking me....

Immediately I give myself a huge mental slap. Sure, Liam might be awkward or acting weird around me, but I cannot assume he likes me. I don't know him enough -- any guy enough, even, to tell such a thing.

It matters to your heart, but not to the grand scheme of your life whether he likes you or not, I tell myself. In fact, a 'crush' is supposed to be short lasting. How I still like him now, almost a week later, I can only wonder.

In absolutely perfect timing, I hear the familiar voices of Liam and James further down the hallway that is growing more empty as high schoolers head to sports practice or straight home. They seem to have just been released from their last class and are probably discussing it, but their voices gradually die away as they approach my locker.