ROSES (TeacherxStudent)

PART 2.6 Ch.17

Laughter mixed with the warm air as the students picked up their gym bags stuffed with unwashed clothes of the past three days.

'I'm surprised you didn't catch a cold,' Mia zipped up her luggage.

'Did you go skinny dipping with a certain someone, a teacher maybe? ' Max wiggled his eyebrows.

'Maybe I did.' I twirled, grinning.

'Someone's trying be the typical bad girl here .' Max joked.

I walked backwards to get a better look of my squad. Parker held at least two of Mia's gazilion bags. Her outfits never failed to bedazzle the crowd. Some how through the heavy weight carried by the two, Mia and Parker still managed to hold each others' hands.

'Choke me daddy.' I whimpered with humour. At that moment my back crashed into a hard 'board'.

I lost balance but the the strong figure stopped me from admitting defeat to gravity. Arms that held me for a quarter of a second was quickly removed. Though slightly offended with this person's inability to stay in contact for too long, I turned to thank this marvelous human for saving me from a broken nose. There he stood with a red nose and his cheeks glistening and pink. He was wrapped in warm clothing in the middle of spring.

'Sir, did you catch a cold?' Max had a smug smile plastered on his face.

'Yes I did, unfortunately.' Mr Baker's voice cracked.

'How in the world did you fall into the lake?' Ms Moore cooed, coming up to us with her disgusting bandaged self.
She was neatly dressed and I hesitantly admired how easily she could pull off her feminine and effortless look.

'Students please get in the bus, we're about to leave,' Mr Baker dodged her filthy touch. Oh thank god, I do not think I could have seen past my intense jealousy anymore.

I couldn't help but give Me Moore a nice pat on her shoulder before dragging my gym bag up the bus stairs. I sat on the window seat smiling at the memory Ms Moore did not share with Baker.

Summer 2 Moore 0

At least I did not act on my jealousy. It Not thaat much anyway.

Tiffany plopped in the seat next to me and slapped my arm.

'Hey!' I gently rubbed my now red arm.

'You!' her wide eyes were popping out of her skull.

'Me!'

'Why do I have to know things second hand? Huh? Not trustworthy enough for ya?'

'Aw come on.' I tugged on her pink sweater.

'I'm so sick of relationships blooming around me.' She sighed.

So that's what this is about.

'Hey you don't need a man.' I hugged her arm.

'It's not that.' she started pushing me off of her.

'Oh really?' I held onto her tighter. She should know by now that I'd never let her go.

'I'm not mad at you okay?' she did not say anything further but I knew something was bothering my favourite cheerleader.

I began pouting and did no sane human would do. I did the unspeakable. I did aegyo.

'Ew. Stop.' she frantically shook her arm that I had latched onto.

I moved away giving her space to breath.

'What's the matter?' I started.

'Nothing,' she sighed.

I didn't press her. I unzipped my bag to bring out the one book I've been in love with. Today I turned the chapter of Bipolar disorder. As I read I realized how lightly people take the situation as. People throw these terms around disregarding them and their intensity. It annoyed me.

'People are wrong,' I jerked up with Tiffany's sudden interest in society.

'Eh?' I did not really have anything else to say.

'People think I have this perfect life,'

'No life is perfect gurl but yours is pretty close to that,' I voiced my opinion. We were best friends and we never lie to each other. She snickered.

'Listen,' I began, 'You're naturally beautiful and your makeup is always on point. Your dad is made of dollars and your wardrobe is overflowing with the latest clothes. You're the head cheerleader making you the Queen Bee. Not only that, you've managed to volunteer at charities and you've gotten straight A's. Let's not forget you're a member of the student council.'

I could almost hear the jealousy oozing out of the corner of my lips. Now that I said it out loud I really wondered how she got all this. She was the definition of what society would call perfection. No matter how I'd love to deny it but I was apart of that society, we all are.

'You think all that was just handed to me?' She answered my unspoken question.

'I ran before the sun rose everyday since freshman year. I ran errands and made fun of by the previous cheerleaders for being a nerd. It was hard for them to believe that someone who buried herself in studies could be a cheerleader,' she was unusually calm for a person with so much to say.

'My grades, the student council, volunteering matter to me because I have to get into Ivy League. You think I got all my work done magically? Every accomplishment, every success, every bit of perfection that now defines me, I worked hard for it, for myself. To become someone. It happens to be the same one people have a habit of belittling.'

I breathed in as I began to see her situation in a different light. How did this girl who was supposed to be the embodiment of a dumb blonde defied the stereotype and make it into something so spectacular.

'You think my moneymaking daddy was there to help me with homework?' she batted her lashes with confidence of the strong woman she was.

'Now that was something I can relate to,' I smiled. She returned with the smile of the sweet girl I've grown up with.

With each moment I started recovering my forgotten memories. I remembered how badly she wanted to be apart of the cheering squad. I remember how she ran around town to get the perfect cappacino which ended up in the bin everyday. I remember how the two of us started dividing our time between going to the gym and studying till late at night. I remember how we were successful in making our bodies fit the standard of beauty. I remember how we slowly climbed the social ladder but still managed to stay intact and strong and together.

'You could have left me when you got all that popularity,' I managed to say this loud enough for only her to hear.

'What can I say? I need a loyal and pretty puppy with me at all times.' her emerald orbs twinkled.

This time I smacked her arm.

Vote. Comment. Love. Hate.

People are wrong

No matter how I'd love to deny it but I was apart of that society, we all are.

Every accomplishment, every success, every bit of perfection that now defines me, I worked hard for it, for myself. To become someone. It happens to be the same one people have a habit belittling.