Kim Pritekel: Outcome

"So, what about you? What is it like to be on your side of the proverbial tracks?"

"Well, it’s filled with it’s own kind of pressures." She looked at me, "believe it or not."

I smiled, before wiping my face of any expression.

"I have a lot of friends, but I’ve had to work for those, Andi. You and I have different personalities; I love to talk to people, and I’m very open about it. I’ll walk up to anyone and just start chatting. People are people, I just enjoy them for who they are. You know?" I nodded. "I get involved, and that will usually set you up for certain types of friends, unfortunately." I imagine it also helps to be one of the most gorgeous people to walk the earth.

"So, you didn’t like set out at birth to be miss known, and miss popularity?" she shook her head, nose scrunched up.

"God, no. I don’t really care about all that. Hell, Kelly and I have been friends since kindergarten, so we have a lot of history. We just sort of went through everything together. Everything else just kind of gravitated together, all my friends."

I looked at her, surprised by how down to earth she was, how grounded. I had known about Haley Corregan since the day I first started school; she was exceptionally talented, beautiful child from day one. There was not a person under the age of twenty in Winston who didn’t know who she was. I had no idea she was human, and kind. I always had my preconceived notions, most of which are right on, about her crowd, and the way they treated everyone. I had had my own run-ins with a few members of the pop clique.

"Would you like to see how the other side lives?" I was torn from my thoughts, pulled back to the pizza place and stared at her.

"Huh?"

"Great answer." She grinned. "I said, would you like to go out with me tomorrow night?"

"Um, where?"

"There’s a party at Brad Martin’s house, his folks are gone again." She rolled her eyes. "One of these days he’s going to get so busted. Anyway, want to go?"

Brad Martin, as in cutest guy in four counties, ex-boyfriend of Haley, biggest asshole in four states.

"Um, sure?" No! I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. I don’t want to, don’t make me! My inner voice was squashed by my politeness and curiosity.

"Really? You’ll go?" I nodded dumbly, internally beating myself senseless. The biggest smile spread across Haley’s face. "Who knows, maybe you’ll see they’re all not so bad."

Famous last words.

I pulled the black tank over my head, and then pulled up my satin soccer shorts. Running my hand though my hair as I headed downstairs to where my bag and practice mats were. It was late Thursday, but I was wide awake as I thought of tomorrow night. Why did I agree to this? I despised parties of any kind, certainly those hosted illegally by some half-wit who played off his looks to get through life.

I guess what it boiled down to was I had little to no respect for so many of Haley’s friends, and it made me sad, as she was proving herself to be a fine person.

I stood in the center of my mats in the basement, my eyes closed as I readied myself to my workout. I began to breathe deep and even as I cleared my head, bringing my focus and concentration to its fullest and purist point.

Eyes still closed, I began to slowly, smoothly move through the room, heading for the targets I had scattered around the room, using force of mind and body to find them, striking out with feet, legs, hands and arms, flipping to avoid the oncoming attack by my imaginary foe, dodging his punches and kicks with skill borne of eleven years of practice and work.

I felt the satisfying, solid smack of the bag against my wrist as I swung. In real life it would have hit my opponent square in the neck, bringing them to their knees.

"Ha!" I yelled out, as I struck again, rolling out of the way to spring up and hit the pad behind me.

I could feel the energy running through my body like a surge of electricity through the wires to power an entire city.

Breathing heavily, sweat streaming into my eyes, I headed to the wet bar in the corner and the tiny refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water. Plopping down on one of the bar stools, I allowed my body to relax, the water running through me like a built in air conditioner, cooling me down.

Draining the bottle, I crushed it in my hand and tossed it into the trash as I headed back upstairs, running the back of my hand across my eyes to wipe the sweat out. It was late, nearly midnight, and I was exhausted.

Taking a quick shower, I slid into bed, dead to the world within seconds.

* * *

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

"Grrrrr," I reached out, smacked my alarm silent. I hated that noise. The sun wasn’t even up yet, so why should I be? I turned over to lie on my stomach and bury my face in my pillow. It was Friday, and that’s always good.

With a groan, I managed to drag my butt out of the warmth that is my bed, clicked off the electric blanket. The cold morning air breezed against my naked skin as I padded over to the window. The grass and roofs had a thin, white glaze over it, obviously from a light snow over night. Halloween was a week away, and yet you’d think Thanksgiving was next Saturday.

With a shiver running down my spine, goosebumps erupted allover my body, I hurried to my bathroom and a hot shower.

Dressing in jeans, a tank - never leave home without it - and a sweater, I was armed to face the day and my English test.

I had been blessed, or cursed, by a very high tolerance for cold. I knew that by the time I got to school I would already be too hot for the sweater, and it would find its new home around my waste until lunch when I started to get cold again for about an hour, then off it would go. Nice to be predictable, I suppose.

I enjoyed my early morning walks, they were invigorating and peaceful. The sun was beginning to show its face above the houses and illuminate the land around me. Flurries were beginning already, and I knew by time I walked home this afternoon there’d be measurable snow on the ground.

I walked up to the building as the bell sounded and I hurried to my locker to grab my books for my first two classes.

I was not in a good mood as I left my AP English class, the test behind me. I did well, but I really had to work at it. English was in no way, shape or form my strong spot, nor did I pretend it was. I headed to my locker again, dumped off my books and grabbed my lunch. Today we’d have a good old fashion turkey and Swiss sandwich and an orange.

Finding locker 218, I slid down to the floor, brown lunch bag to one side, my novel to the other. As I got settled, bringing my sweater over my head and stretching my arms though, I watched the others, calling out to each other, waiting in line for a hot lunch, or the guys throwing food at each other. My eyes automatically scanned toward the middle of the lunch room to the rowdiest table of them all. There she was, leaning over as she tried to listen to something Kelly told her. Haley sat back, laughing as she dug her fork into her lunch. For just a moment I wondered what had been said, and what it felt like to have that kind of camaraderie.

But just for a moment.

I took the sandwich from it’s clear plastic baggie, and began to eat as I read, chewing slowly as I became further and further involved in the story and its characters.

"Hey." My head shot up, eyes wide.

"You know, I think you have this weird sort of sick desire to sheer off as many years of my life as you can." Haley grinned.

"Sorry. Maybe if you didn’t get so involved in," she lifted the book in my hand to see the title, "‘Bag of Bones,’ you’d hear me." I glared, put my book aside. "I didn’t know you were into Stephen King."