Michael was the coolest guy in school. At least, that's what everyone said. He had it all...money, good looks, cool clothes, wicked car....every male in the vicinity wanted to be him. Girls swooned if he looked in their direction, let alone spoke to them. With every grade A he received, every touchdown he made, Michael spawned waves of admiration and envy with every step he took.
Michael sneered at them....if only they knew.
If only they knew that unless he brought home straight A's and performed well at his sport, his dad would beat him.
If only they knew that the clothes, the car, and the money he was given to spend was all a show for his friends; or more importantly, for his father's friends.
If only they knew that he actually hated playing football, had wanted to go out for band...but his father wouldn't hear of it and called him a faggot for wanting to play music instead of playing sports.
The girls he dated didn't want to talk about anything he cared about: music, poetry, nature. They only wanted to hear about the next football game or about how much his car cost.
One night he couldn't take it anymore. He drove to a bridge, feeling the wuthering lows of his existence and was going to hurl himself off it because it was the only way he thought he could escape his father's insane expectations. But as he walked to the middle, he saw he wasn't alone. A girl was standing there.
Bridget was a girl he recognized in his class, but that was all he knew about her other than that she was the class "nerd". His peers picked on her relentlessly, jeering at her in the halls because of her out of date, ragamuffin clothes and thick glasses. Michael didn't know it but Bridget had spent many a time in the restroom, holed up in a stall, silently crying over some of the comments her classmates had hurled at her. At home she cut herself to try and deal with everything....physical pain was easier to manage than emotional pain. Baggy clothes helped hide the scars.
Michael walked over to her and asked, "What are you doing?"
Bridget stared at him, dumbfounded. What was he doing here, of all places, of all times? "Nothing," she said, quietly. Just go away, she thought to herself, just go away.
Michael was annoyed that he wasn't able to carry out his plan the way he wanted, but he was concerned, looking at her face. She looked like she had been crying heavily, her cheeks tearstained. He stood there looking at her for a few minutes and then put two and two together....she was there for the same reason he was.
Wow, he thought to himself. He hadn't expected this. He had his own problems to deal with, and now this? He blurted out the first thing that came into his head. "You want to get some coffee?"
Bridget looked up and stared at him, incredulously. Coffee? He wants to get....coffee? Now? Of all times?
But she found herself saying, "Uh, alright."
Michael learned about her broken home, about how her mother couldn't afford anything but clothes from the Salvation Army, and how she needed new glasses but her mother couldn't afford them. He also learned about Bridget's love of music and poetry. Hours later, after having almost drunk the Perkins Restaurant dry of coffee, and having made an inseparable bond, they said goodnight with promises to meet up again soon. Pour Some Sugar On Me, Michael thought to himself. Who would have known? Bridget was....cool. Cooler than he was. Ha. If only they knew.
The next day at school, Michael went to his locker, his friends on either side of him, hurling the usual comments to the female passersby. Just then Bridget walked up to them.
Her heart was pounding as she approached the circle of acolytes that usually followed Michael around. She wondered if she would find the same person she had met last night.
Michael turned and saw her, and also saw his friends immediately start in on her with the usual jibes. Now was the moment of truth....follow his heart, or stay with the familiar pack?
He shut his locker, hoisted his backpack higher on his shoulders, and ignoring his friends completely, gave Bridget a smile. "All ready?" he asked, ignoring the crowd as if they weren't there.
Bridget grinned as he took her arm and steered her through the crowd.
"Once bitten by the geek virus, you never go back Mike," one of his friends jeered.
Michael didn't care anymore, didn't care what waited for him at home, didn't care what waited for him in the future here at school. Bridget was at his side and she understood him....that was all that mattered.
Submitted for Blogophilia 25.5
topic: Wuthering Lows
(hard, 2 pts): incorporate a song title (or lyric) that has the word, "sugar"
(easy, 1 pt): include the phrase, "once bitten"
GBE #65: Two Perspectives
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