To see everything
Posted: Wed Nov 20, 2024 11:48 pm
Sylvie looked behind her as she turned the corner behind the gym building, and saw nothing. Relief. She continued and crouched down. There were no hallways at Southwest Red Rock. Sylvie relished this fact in the first few weeks of her education here; hallways, in her experience, were practically centralised hunting grounds, wherein she was the prey. Where it was perceive or die.
At Red Rock, she could at least put herself behind the buildings in the wide open campus and have a moment of peace. Away from the other students, around whom she felt an almost intrinsic anxiety.
She reached into the pocket of her baggy gray hoodie, and pulled out a bright red hair tie. The one gifted to her by her mother as a child. She hadn't worn it for years, now. Her mother insisted she bring it today, citing to her it was a shame she couldn't at least try and express herself in an entirely new school.
She'd kept it in her hoodie pocket for the majority of that day, deathly afraid of what anyone would say seeing her with it. But now, Sylvie looked down at it, and saw an extraordinary nostalgia seeping from it. Combined with the color that burst in contrast with the rest of her current getup, it was like a fountain in her hands.
Kinder memories flowed from it.
Sylvie turned to her left, to her right, and saw nothing. Relief. Then, back down again. In a decision herself from five minutes ago would have considered immeasurably foolish, she decided she could indulge in putting it on just this once. Her fingers fumbled with the bow as she tried to replicate the perfect knot her mother had taught her all those years ago.
“Need a hand, short stack?” A voice rang out, dripping with mockery.
Sylvie's heart seized and her eyes widened. She'd let her guard down for just a second. A second. Fear. She didn’t have to turn and see to know who it was; Amber Borowski and her friends, notorious for preying on the school's vulnerable. Barely two weeks at the school and she already had regulars. Her heart sank, but she kept her gaze fixed on the ribbon, pretending not to hear.
Amber leaned against the gym building's walls, smirking and looking down. “What’s the matter? Too hard for your baby fingers?” her posse chuckled behind her.
The knot slipped from Sylvie’s fingers for the fourth time. She was letting her words get to her. Her cheeks burned, but she refused to look up. “I’m fine, thanks.” she said quietly, desperate to avoid confrontation.
“You don’t look fine,” Amber pressed. She promptly plucked the ribbon from Sylvie’s hands with marked ease. “Honestly, it’s kind of pathetic that you’re still wearing this kiddie stuff. Though, you’re already basically that, aren’t you?”
Sylvie’s eyes widened and her head shot up to see Amber holding it after having flagrantly snatched it out of her hands. Horror. She’d known something like this was going to happen. “G-give it back.” She stuttered.
Amber dangled the ribbon just out of reach, which for her, wasn’t that far, and grinned. “Make me. Come on, jump for me.”
A surge of frustration bubbled up inside Sylvie. She clenched her fists. She saw red. Anger. Her mind was racing through a thousand things she wanted to say but couldn’t.
Instead, she darted forward, trying to grab the ribbon, but Amber pulled away easily, her and her posse cackling at the act. Sylvie began to stress further, emotion overwhelming. Her mother gave her that, and she couldn’t even keep it from idiots like Amber. She was about to spiral when a clear and firm voice cut through the scene.
“What’s going on here?”
Sylvie quickly looked to the side, and saw a face framed by golden hair, much like hers. Coach Harper. Amber turned and saw the same, making her freeze. Shock. The cheer coach stood with arms crossed, her sharp gaze locking onto the bully. “Amber, do you have something that doesn’t belong to you?”
Amber hesitated, looking around at her posse, whom were already beginning to disperse. She then handed the ribbon back to Sylvie with a scowl. “We were just joking around.”
“Get to class,” Coach Harper said. Amber herself finally slinked off, and Sylvie stood there, clutching the ribbon tightly.
“Are you okay, dear?” Harper asked, her tone and face immediately softening as she turned towards Sylvie.
Sylvie nodded, though her eyes stung with unshed tears. It made it hard to see. She could only mutter out; “…Thanks.”
Harper crouched down to her level, studying her. She then fully sat down on the grass, leaning against the gym building wall. “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I saw your cartwheels in gym today. Clean, tight form. Have you ever thought about joining the cheer team?” A wide smile formed on her face, like the most natural thing in the world.
Sylvie blinked, taken aback. Her head quickly turned to the cheer coach. “Me? But I’m... I mean, I’m not exactly…”
Harper raised an eyebrow and began to chuckle. “Not exactly what? Cheerleaders come in all shapes and sizes, and you’ve got the makings of a great flier. Small, light, and agile. Just what we need. Think about it.”
With a reassuring pat on her shoulder, Harper walked away, leaving Sylvie standing behind the gym. She looked down at the ribbon in her hands, and, still reeling from the interaction, acted almost on instinct. She smoothed it out before tying it back into her hair In one try. The long tips of the bow stuck out like rabbit ears, sharp and proud.
She looked forward, and, for the first time in a long while, saw a glimmer of hope.
At Red Rock, she could at least put herself behind the buildings in the wide open campus and have a moment of peace. Away from the other students, around whom she felt an almost intrinsic anxiety.
She reached into the pocket of her baggy gray hoodie, and pulled out a bright red hair tie. The one gifted to her by her mother as a child. She hadn't worn it for years, now. Her mother insisted she bring it today, citing to her it was a shame she couldn't at least try and express herself in an entirely new school.
She'd kept it in her hoodie pocket for the majority of that day, deathly afraid of what anyone would say seeing her with it. But now, Sylvie looked down at it, and saw an extraordinary nostalgia seeping from it. Combined with the color that burst in contrast with the rest of her current getup, it was like a fountain in her hands.
Kinder memories flowed from it.
Sylvie turned to her left, to her right, and saw nothing. Relief. Then, back down again. In a decision herself from five minutes ago would have considered immeasurably foolish, she decided she could indulge in putting it on just this once. Her fingers fumbled with the bow as she tried to replicate the perfect knot her mother had taught her all those years ago.
“Need a hand, short stack?” A voice rang out, dripping with mockery.
Sylvie's heart seized and her eyes widened. She'd let her guard down for just a second. A second. Fear. She didn’t have to turn and see to know who it was; Amber Borowski and her friends, notorious for preying on the school's vulnerable. Barely two weeks at the school and she already had regulars. Her heart sank, but she kept her gaze fixed on the ribbon, pretending not to hear.
Amber leaned against the gym building's walls, smirking and looking down. “What’s the matter? Too hard for your baby fingers?” her posse chuckled behind her.
The knot slipped from Sylvie’s fingers for the fourth time. She was letting her words get to her. Her cheeks burned, but she refused to look up. “I’m fine, thanks.” she said quietly, desperate to avoid confrontation.
“You don’t look fine,” Amber pressed. She promptly plucked the ribbon from Sylvie’s hands with marked ease. “Honestly, it’s kind of pathetic that you’re still wearing this kiddie stuff. Though, you’re already basically that, aren’t you?”
Sylvie’s eyes widened and her head shot up to see Amber holding it after having flagrantly snatched it out of her hands. Horror. She’d known something like this was going to happen. “G-give it back.” She stuttered.
Amber dangled the ribbon just out of reach, which for her, wasn’t that far, and grinned. “Make me. Come on, jump for me.”
A surge of frustration bubbled up inside Sylvie. She clenched her fists. She saw red. Anger. Her mind was racing through a thousand things she wanted to say but couldn’t.
Instead, she darted forward, trying to grab the ribbon, but Amber pulled away easily, her and her posse cackling at the act. Sylvie began to stress further, emotion overwhelming. Her mother gave her that, and she couldn’t even keep it from idiots like Amber. She was about to spiral when a clear and firm voice cut through the scene.
“What’s going on here?”
Sylvie quickly looked to the side, and saw a face framed by golden hair, much like hers. Coach Harper. Amber turned and saw the same, making her freeze. Shock. The cheer coach stood with arms crossed, her sharp gaze locking onto the bully. “Amber, do you have something that doesn’t belong to you?”
Amber hesitated, looking around at her posse, whom were already beginning to disperse. She then handed the ribbon back to Sylvie with a scowl. “We were just joking around.”
“Get to class,” Coach Harper said. Amber herself finally slinked off, and Sylvie stood there, clutching the ribbon tightly.
“Are you okay, dear?” Harper asked, her tone and face immediately softening as she turned towards Sylvie.
Sylvie nodded, though her eyes stung with unshed tears. It made it hard to see. She could only mutter out; “…Thanks.”
Harper crouched down to her level, studying her. She then fully sat down on the grass, leaning against the gym building wall. “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I saw your cartwheels in gym today. Clean, tight form. Have you ever thought about joining the cheer team?” A wide smile formed on her face, like the most natural thing in the world.
Sylvie blinked, taken aback. Her head quickly turned to the cheer coach. “Me? But I’m... I mean, I’m not exactly…”
Harper raised an eyebrow and began to chuckle. “Not exactly what? Cheerleaders come in all shapes and sizes, and you’ve got the makings of a great flier. Small, light, and agile. Just what we need. Think about it.”
With a reassuring pat on her shoulder, Harper walked away, leaving Sylvie standing behind the gym. She looked down at the ribbon in her hands, and, still reeling from the interaction, acted almost on instinct. She smoothed it out before tying it back into her hair In one try. The long tips of the bow stuck out like rabbit ears, sharp and proud.
She looked forward, and, for the first time in a long while, saw a glimmer of hope.