The Plan
I began high school, like most kids, anxious for what the year would entail. I worried whether my classes would be hard, whether my teachers would suck, how often I would be embarrassed, etc. But, unlike most kids, I had an outline, a plan even. A plan of how I would thrive my freshmen year. Year after year, after every school year, I had left school feeling unaccomplished. I had felt as if nothing had really changed other than my age. But this year would be different, I was going to be different. This was the year that Ollie Rose Bloom was going to begin again and it was going to be amazing.
It all seemed so simple, really. I truly thought that if I believe, I could achieve. Now I’m not the type of person who believes in much, but I did believe in my goals for this year and my capability of achieving them.
The plan had four major components. Four components really didn’t seem that hard to complete in a nine month window. First, I would join the cross-country team and become the star runner, I mean, if I had the drive, how hard could it be, right?
Second, I would get the lead in my school play. I got the lead in my seventh grade musical and I wasn’t even the best singer! The eighth grade musical is a different story, considering I didn’t even make it into the cast. But this was a play! There wouldn’t be any of that singing or dancing crap, so I could totally do it! It was just acting and acting is something I could do.
Third, I would get all A’s in all my classes. Now this was something I hadn’t done since the sixth grade. I hadn’t been able to maintain my grades up to my A standard. This was not only disappointing to me, but to my parents, especially my father. Every time I had even single a B, my dad would give me that disappointed look of his, right before his booming lecture/rant. But this was the year the disappointed looks and lectures would end. I was going to make myself and my father proud. I was going to ace all of my Honor classes.
As for the last component of my plan, it was to be a normal teenager. I would finally date and make new friends. This was the year I wouldn’t be the girl who spent all her free time doing homework, watching tv, and reading books. I was going to get a life; I just knew it. I mean, high school was such a different dynamic than middle school. I was bound to meet new, interesting kinds of people. And those new, interesting kinds of people would take me out on an adventure and create a different, better version of me. I mean, it happened all the time in the movies. Plus, there’s always a cute boy who notices the main character, so therefore I would meet a cute boy, get my first kiss, and my first boyfriend.
So yes, I, Ollie Rose Bloom, had a plan and I was going to fulfill that plan. Oh how things crash, burn, and turn…to shit.
Now that I look back on it, the plan ended before it even started. Forms for cross-country were due in August, before school started. Apparently, I never got the memo. So that was one hit to my plan.
‘It’s okay,’ I had assured myself. ‘There’s always next year.’
Besides, I was slightly relieved I wouldn’t be coming home with burning lungs and aching muscles. I knew how strict training could be and maybe doing that after having my brain picked at for seven hours wouldn’t be the best thing.
But then it happened. What I refer to now as “The Great Play Incident” happened. I was totally prepared to audition for the part I wanted. But apparently it’s totally okay for the director to call you to audition for the part you didn’t sign up for. You know, the one, you didn’t practice for. Thus executing any chance I had at getting a part.
‘It’s okay,’ I assured myself once again. ‘There’s always next year and this year’s play seemed stupid anyway. And just because loud mouth Lina Lopez got a part, doesn’t mean you’re inadequate.’
Despite the words I used to comfort myself, the hurt was still there. Just like that, two major components of my plan gone to hell. But I still had my other two hopes, and those just had to hold up. Oh, but there, was a trend that had to be seen through.
I didn’t count on fucking geometry. I didn’t expect triangles and proofs coming to ruin my life. I didn’t predict how tiring it all could be. I didn’t bank on the constant pressure and the constant need to be perfect. I didn’t anticipate the late nights, the hours of work, and the need to be on top of your game at all times. I didn’t foresee my dad’s consistent lectures and my mother’s smart remarks. And I definitely didn’t see the B’s and one D making their way on to my report card. And just like that my plan took another hit.
At that point, the plan didn’t even matter anymore. None of my hopes and goals came true, even the hope to become a normal teenager failed. The one hope that I truly wanted to come true, above all else, failed. Those new, interesting kinds of people that I thought I would meet, didn’t exist. It was still the same damn kind of people I had been stuck with for four years, just in a different building. And I was still the same rambling, awkward girl hanging out with the people she’s long outgrown, but too scared to break away from. Turns out the movies were completely different from reality. Therefore, no magical transformation, no wild adventures, and no cute boys to finally notice you.
It was today when the dam finally broke, when everything finally fell apart. I was sitting at my table in the oversized cafeteria at my usual table. The table directly across from the table of track and cross-country jocks; and directly behind the table filled with theater kids wearing play t-shirts. Of course I was with my usual group. You know, the people I had been considering my “friends”, since the seventh grade, who didn’t even notice I was anything but alright. While they talked and laughed and compared their straight A report cards, I was staring down at the final nail in my coffin. I looked back and forth between the bold faced red letter on my test signifying my failure and the text from my dad saying that we needed to talk.
Suddenly, it all just got to be too much. Everything came crashing down. Several realizations manifested within my mind. I realized how none of my assurances meant anything and how nothing was okay. I realized that nothing had changed, not me or the endless cycle of feeling unaccomplished. I realized that no one seems to be going through this but me. But most importantly I realized that this test wasn’t a failure, I was.
Everyone snapped out of their reverie when they heard the huge hiccup that erupted from my mouth. It was a minute later when I felt the tears burning in my eyes. And it took only a second before I hightailed it out of that hellhole.
I sprinted down the halls, looking for the nearest bathroom. But a new idea formed in my head when I saw a janitor’s closet.
‘At least no one will hear me cry,’ I thought to myself, pulling the door open.
So that’s how I ended up here, sitting on the floor in the dark with only the smell of Lysol to keep me company. My knees are pulled into my chest and tears stream down my face. And I keep making these god awful sobs that sound like I’m being choked. Trust me, Dawson Leery’s cry face ain’t got nothing on me.
All of a sudden, there’s a light in my face and I look up to see a figure standing in the doorway.
“Ugh, what the hell?” I groan, attempting to block the light from hitting my face with my hands. I fail miserably. Ha, just like with everything else.
“What are you doing in here?” the figure speaks with a somewhat deep yet gruff voice. Blinking away the tears and finally adjusting to the light, I see who it is. My eyes widen and my mouth drops a little when I recognize him. It’s Liam fucking Moore!
Allow me to take a second to explain the severe awkwardness of this unfortunate situation. I’m sitting in a janitor’s closet, crying with a snotty nose and puffy eyes. And I’m facing one of the most attractive, well known boys in our grade, our freshmen football team’s quarterback.
I can’t help but stare at his face. Deep blue eyes, curly, golden brown hair, and a hint of facial hair. I, also, can’t help but notice the tiny diamond sparkling in his right ear.
‘He’s so gorgeous,’ I think. I suddenly snap out of it, ashamed of my actions. Liam Moore may be unfairly attractive and in possession of some great genetics, but he’s also a major douche. And when I say he’s a douche, I mean he’s a douche/fuckboy.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Hunting unicorns?” I hiss, finally answering his question. “And since when are students allowed to be a janitor?”
I finally notice that I’m not only crying my heart out in the presence of Liam Moore, but in the presence of Liam Moore dressed in a custodian’s blue jumpsuit.
“Let’s just say I did some…stuff,” Liam smirks arrogantly, his blue eyes sparkling. “And this is my punishment.”
‘Of course,’ I thought to myself.
“Now I’ll repeat my question, what are you doing in here?” he asks, aggressively, I might add.
“None of your goddamn business,” I nearly snarl. I don’t feel like dealing with his nasty, shitty attitude.
He looks tense for a moment before he lets out a breath.
“Whatever,” Liam mutters, walking into the closet. He closes the door behind him and turns on the light. Liam walks over and starts to rummage through the supplies sitting on the shelf above me.
“Are you serious right now?” I ask, wiping at my tears.
“Are you serious right now?” he mocks, not even sparing me a glance. Angered, I sit there in silence, trying not to let him get to me. I wait for him to leave, but even that seems to be too much to ask as he continues doing whatever it is he’s doing.
“What are you even doing?” I demand.
“Putting shit away, or can you not see that?” he replies in a bored tone. Sure enough he’s adding stuff from the janitor’s cart onto the shelf.
“Yes I can see that,” I grit my teeth.
“Then why did you ask the question?” Liam smirks.
“You’re a dick, you know that?”
“I’ve been called worse,”
“Look can you please just leave?” I gesture to the door. I would like nothing more than to continue crying in private.
“When I’m done,” he replies. About a minute passes before he finally asks, “Why are you crying?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t, I’m just wondering why I’m stuck in a room with a blubbering chick,”
“You can leave,” I point wildly to the door.
“Look, I’m only going to ask one more time, why are you crying?” for the first time Liam truly looks at me. This time not with a smirk, or arrogance placed in his eyes, but with somewhat genuine blue eyes. He truly looks as if he might give an ounce of a shit. And somehow that’s enough to make the words bubble up to my lips and spill out into a steady stream
“I had this plan, this great plan to make this school year one of the best of my life,” I start. “This year was supposed to be my year. After years and years of feeling like a failure, I was finally going to come out on top. I was finally going to be a winner. But then it all just when to shit. I was supposed to be the star runner and the star in the play. And I was finally going to get straight A’s for the first time since sixth grade! But no, you know what I got? I got my first fucking D all because of geometry! And before you say it, I’ve been in advanced math since the fourth grade so I took Algebra 1 last year. While all my friends are rocking straight A’s that they can take home and put on a fridge, I’m sitting here feeling like the world’s biggest idiot! And I have to go home and deal with my dad and his damn disappointed stares and his long ass lectures! And do you know what the worst part is? This is all my fault. It wasn’t geometry or Lina Lopez or fate or anything like that, it was me. I screwed up. And it’s my fault. There’s no one to blame but me, and I just feel awful.
At one point during my mini speech, I must have started crying again because tears are dripping down my face. I nearly jump out of my skin when Liam sits down next to me. And I nearly shiver when his arm brushes against mine.
“But that’s not even the end of it,” I continue, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted from off of me. “I thought this year I could change, make new friends, create stories to tell my grandchildren, become a better version of myself. I would finally live the teenage experience, in fact I would finally just get to live. But no I’m almost fifteen and I still have yet to figure out how to talk people without sounding like an idiot. I have yet to even date or even talk to a boy this year. Dude, I haven’t even had my first kiss!”
I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I try and figure out a way to sum up exactly how I feel.
“This all feels like a disaster, no matter how much I try,” I speak once more. Silence ensues as I wait for his response. I wish he would just say something, anything.
“That’s tough,” Liam looks me in the eye.
I feel the smoke come out of my ears and my eyes are no longer red because of the crying. When I said that I wanted him to say something, this isn’t what I meant.
“That’s tough? After everything I have just said and the amount of my heart I just spilled to you, and that’s all you have to say. You’re such a jack-
My words are cut off as he presses his lips against mine. I almost gasp. I sit here frozen, unsure of what the hell is even happening. All I can register is how warm his lips are and the tiny scratch of facial hair I feel against my chin. And when he pulls back, arrogant smirk back in place, I think I have a brain malfunction.
“There,” Liam starts, proud eyes searching my appalled face. “I just gave you an amazing first kiss. That’s one goal completed this year. Now you just have yet to date,”
He ruffles my hair as he stands up and puts one last bottle of Lysol onto the shelf. Liam saunters over to the door and yanks it open. He turns towards me with an eyebrow raised, “Later, Ollie,”
Liam proceeds to give me a two finger salute and flicks the light off. I sit there with my mouth hung open as the door slams behind him. I press my fingers to my lips and I am left with one single thought.
‘How does he know my name?’