Saturday, April 2, 2011

Snapple Apple 450 Week 45: Stereotype This

SnappleApple 450

Picture 1

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SnappleApple 450's Choice: both

Stereotype This

My name’s Elyssa. I’m a senior in high school with my best friend Alex. We do everything together, practically joined at the hip. No one can understand why we hang out together. She’s the blonde cute preppy girl in high school and I’m the gothic with an attitude that no one cares to know. I’m not sure how we get along, but we do.

My English teacher said I’m supposed to write about a past experience that means a lot to me during my years here in this school so here it goes. And Ms. Ricky, I better get an A+ for all the work I’m going through writing this stupid thing.

It was Sophomore year and we had all just gotten back from winter break. I remember my teacher came up to me after homeroom and asked me for something. It was slightly insulting the way she said “since you don’t have any friends...” and there was a good reason I didn’t. This school is based on cliques, as are all schools, but it was annoying. Nobody talked to me because of how I dressed. Yeah black was the main color in my wardrobe, but black was easy to match with. Black and and and and get the picture.

Anyway, the teacher asked me to give the new girl a tour of the place in my free time. Insert the lack of friends insult to really make me want to volunteer. I flaked out. The girl can find her way around on her own. That day at lunch I saw her in the middle of the crowd of cheerleaders and jocks. Yup, they ate her whole; I was waiting to see if she’d suffocate. She belonged with them, though. She didn’t need me anymore so I was off the hook.

To tell you the truth, I forgot all about her the following weeks. I saw her around, but it was no different than seeing the other students here. It was when I ran into her--literally--on my skateboard at the park that things changed. It hurt. We both have little scars on our knees where we fell on the concrete. I yelled. She pissed me off, but she looked like she was ready to cry, the wimp. Luckily, I kept a bunch of band-aids for “just in case” moments like these.

I’ll never forget what she told me when I asked her if she was okay... She just broke down crying saying she couldn’t take it anymore; the pressure and all, I guess. I remember her saying that she was sick of the people at school. They weren’t her friends, not really. The guys were just after one thing - go figure - and the girls were just fake bitches. She was tired of all the pressure they put on her from the moment she came here.

Apparently no matter what she did, she was always doing something wrong. She listened to the wrong music, liked the wrong guys, watched the wrong shows, wore the wrong clothes. “You can’t please anyone. Ever,” she told me. I remember it like it was yesterday. We immediately hit it off and have been best friends ever since. We don’t please anyone but ourselves. What we do, we do it for us. Now, I know that sounds selfish, but it’s better than being a mindless robot smoking pot because the stress gets to us.

So there you have it, Ms. Ricky. My past experience at this stupid school. Maybe I’ll title it “How I Met My Best Friend” but that seems overly cheesy and something Alex would do. I would probably gag myself if I ever acted like her, but that’s why we get along so well. Call it the Yin-Yang effect or whatever.
Name: Elyssa Jones
Date: April 15th
Subject: English

Ms. Ricky looked up when the bell finally rang, letting the class leave for the weekend. She watched as Elyssa and Alex gathered their books together and headed out of the class with the other students.

“What did you write about?” Alex asked.

Elyssa shrugged. “The time we raced through the store with our carts.”

Alex laughed. “I wrote about the first time I came here.”

“Oh, throw me a bucket!” Elyssa stuck her tongue out. She caught the teacher’s eye and Ms. Ricky smiled, putting the paper down.

“Have a good weekend, kids.”