Caroline+B

My memoir   Coming from my family, studies come first. Maintaining all A’s meant I could do and get whatever my innocent little heart desired. “Caroline,” my mom would say “Just maintain all A’s in school and you have all the freedom in the world. Do a bit of extra studying aside from your homework it will help you in the long run just listen to your dad and I. Study now, fun later in life.” The regular speech I hear from my parents even to this day. So I decided that once I started freshmen year, I would be put into advanced classes, maintain straight A’s, attend my after school dance classes like I had been for the past 13 years, be mommy and daddy’s innocent angel and at the end of the day, be the perfect girlfriend for my perfect boyfriend. Oh yes, I wanted a boyfriend desperately, and that was how my year was going to go. I was going to mold myself into the envy of every girl in school. Even though the act of even hugging a boy seemed like a foreign language to my parents, I figured as long as I satisfied them by maintain my grades I would treat myself to having a boyfriend and there would be no extra side of guilt. But things didn’t quite work out as well as I had planned, but you could have guessed that. I mean I was happy in school and at home, but my perfect plan totally went downhill. I was put into average classes, not to my satisfaction but I figured I could deal with that. That was the first hit. Then came my first C’s on my report card. That was the second hit. “ You aren’t even taking honors classes carrie why cant you just maintain an A? you focus too much on your looks and boys! That’s it, give me your cell phone and go study.” Ah yes, that fateful day when the report cards came in the mail, I anticipated this speech many a time. Then came the third and final hit that ruined my whole scheme. The boy I fell head over heels in love with, just did not feel the same way about me, although he lead me on pretty strongly. And how many times have you heard this story? Girl likes boy, boy says, “oh you’re just a friend to me “and girl cries and listens to sad songs. That was me going through the typical high school teenage crisis. I would take my showers at night, blow dry my long brown hair pin straight so that in the morning I could wash my face, brush my teeth and just run a brush through my hair. After doing my bathroom routine, I would trudge back into my room slip on a pair of jeans, a cute shirt to match and either puma sneakers or my pair of sand colored Ugg boots, a girl’s best friend. Walking to my dresser, I would rub on some face moisturizer making my skin soft and smooth. Washing the cream off my hands, I would smear on liquid black eyeliner on the top of my eyelids. Then slap some mascara on each eye and look at myself in the mirror until I was completely satisfied with the way I looked. Spraying a little bit of Britney Spears fantasy perfume (still my favorite) on my neck I was complete with my beauty routine. If I felt good, it was going to be an amazing day. Slipping on my hooded black bebe jacket, I would mount my backpack on my shoulders, grab my coach purse and head downstairs where my mom would be waiting with either a bagged lunch-if she woke up early enough- and some sort of breakfast I could eat on the bus. Sometimes I would be in such a rush, I would just grab a box of froot loops and munch on them all day. I was not a morning person. Smacking a kiss on my mom’s cheek I would head out the door sticking earphones into my ears constantly going through play lists on my iPod playing whatever song I was currently obsessed with. I would walk to the bus stop, which was right across from my house and wait for the big, yellow, annoying, noisy school bus to come and pick up all the half asleep students. I didn’t exactly hate school I just hated the classes, well, because who likes to study math from 7:30 to 9:00 first thing in the morning? Friends and new boys and lunchtime were my favorite part. But you could have guessed that. It was really pathetic, now that I look back on it. One I thing I had always craved was attention from other people. When the girls and guys around me started to shop at Hollister and Abercrombie and Fitch, I would start shopping there. I would be extra nice to the “popular” girls so that I would get the most attention. Turns out the nicer I was, the less they paid attention to me. To them I was a pushover and I was a backup friend. If they needed something or someone to hang out with when no one else was available I would be right there to fill in the spot. It was really sad and I didn’t realize it till years later. My parents and teachers would tell me that girls were just jealous of me and that’s why they would tend to pick fights. But I never understood why they would be jealous. My mom would say, “Carrie, your tall, your beautiful, you get anything you want at the drop of a hat, your intelligent. Of course they are going to put you down, they want to overtake you.” But if I was all of these things, then wouldn’t people want to be my best friend? Wouldn’t I be that one girl that everyone wanted to get close with? That was what I saw in the movies, the smart pretty girl was the one people envied but they all sucked up to her. So why was I being the suck up here? It confused the hell out of me and I would toss and turn and night in bed emotionally distraught over it. All my distress came to an end as one casual day in school, I saw a boy who gave me all the attention I had ever asked for. I had seen him in the lunch line standing right behind me in the freshmen cafeteria one day. I had no idea who he was and he seemed unreal to me. For starters, he was taller than me, which was really hard to find. I wasn’t freakishly tall but being a freshmen and being 5’8, it was hard to find a tall handsome boy to be my match. When I saw him, my stomach churned, like I was at the top of a roller coaster, waiting for a few seconds at the top before it slid down the rails at 100 miles per hour. I ran to my best friend Cassie and asked her if she knew him. She seemed to know everyone. “Oh yea! I know him, we used to be mad tight, oh my god! You guys would be so cute together, I’m gonna hook you guys up!” That’s all I needed. I knew I had my charm to lure him in, I didn’t think any other way besides the fact that in time he would be mine. He was tall, Indian like me, and he was cute. With entrancing cologne he had on and the adorable outfits he would wear, it wasn’t long before the entire freshmen class new about the enormous crush I had on him. We quickly became friends, thanks to Cassie. I still remember our first instant message conversation on the computer. It lasted for hours and it was snowing outside. With a huge smile plastered on my face I would be jumping up and down, dancing and acting hyper around the house. My parents thought I was going nuts. I had showed my mom his picture on myspace.com, “Yeah he’s a cute Punjabi boy, but don’t take it too far, just be friends Carrie.” The typical answer that I had expected. As time progressed we got closer. He would text me at night saying things that girls go gaga over. His nickname for me was C-line which made me fall for him even harder. It was so obvious he was flirting. He would meet me at the end of the day at my locker and walk me to my bus. Every time I saw him, my eyes lit up and my stomach seemed to turn over with a mixture of nervousness and utter happiness. Then one night, I asked my best friend to come over because he had asked me to go ice-skating. But my mother wasn’t going to let me go with him alone. “ I need you to come ice skating with me Cassie! Tell your boyfriend to meet us there so its like a double date, that’s the only way mom is gonna let me go.” I begged. Cassie agreed and my plan worked accordingly. When I walked into the ice skating rink, my heart pounded in my chest like a dribbling basketball. There he was sitting on the chair with his legs propped up watching sports on the huge flat screen TV. I gave him a hug, not wanting to let go, introduced him to my mom and practically sprinted down with him to get my skates. Unfortunately for me, my mom stayed, I know, so embarrassing but at the moment I was too happy to care. First setting foot on the ice, I grabbed hold of the side of the rink and got used to the ice before I was confident enough to skate on my own. He was right there beside me perfect of course at skating like it was nothing for him. We talked and laughed watching Cassie and her boyfriend trying to skate on their own. They were cute and she was being extra goofy. I so badly wanted to be his girlfriend and to be able to act like that. But what we had right then and there was special. As I was watching and keeping a conversation with my new beau, he grabbed my hand tying his fingers through mine. I though I was going to faint. Normally I would have freaked out considering my mother was above us watching from the thick piece of glass, but I was so excited I wanted to go pee. The first boy I ever held hands with. This as a big step for me considering the only guy action I had was hugging. He never let go of my hand once, except when another couple decided to skate right through us, but a few seconds later, my hand ended up right back into his. The night went on and I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven. There really isn’t another way to describe it. I wanted to pounce on him right then and there and scream “PLEASE BE MINE!” The rest of the night is sort of a blur. We had a little bit of food and we talked a little to my mom and my baby sister Amber who was four at the time. It was time to leave and my heart fell. I wanted to stay on that rink forever all the while holding his hand. We hugged and said our goodbyes promising to text each other. This was the first day of winter break from school so we decided we would try and hang out again. That never happened since one of us was always busy while the other was free. As time went on, the cute texts kept coming, the flirting got stronger and I decided to let him know how I felt. Huge mistake. But you could have guessed that. This whole situation kept going back and forth. The first time I told Cassie to ask him how he felt about me, he told her that he thought I was pretty, but he never liked me in that way and only considered me as a friend. When this news came back to me, I wanted to jam my hand in a locker. “What the hell Cassie! He’s been flirting with me for the past month and he frikkin’ held my hand at the ice skating rink! What kind of asshole does that and says “oh your just a friend” I mean seriously what the hell is his problem? Did I do something wrong?” screaming at Cassie she replied “ I don’t know Caroline he’s being a total jerk, you honestly should just let him go, just remain his friend, he’s mad sketchy about girls and he’s a big flirt.” “Oh thanks for telling me that now!” flustered and extremely upset I walked to my English class after lunch and sat down in my seat with a huff. I had met Cassie in English class itself so when she walked in behind me, I instantly buried my head into my arms and started to cry. This was how emotional I got over a stupid boy. It really was pathetic. Thinking back on it now, I want to shoot myself in the foot. People around school would constantly go up to him asking how he felt about me, it got way out of hand. I eventually got so angry I just told people to stop mentioning my name around him. I didn’t want him to think I was this desperate stalker. Time went on and he got distant from me. The texts stopped, the walks to my bus and my locker stopped. No hugs anymore, it spiraled down to a “hey” in the halls. I thought it was me and my attempts to win him over, but supposedly he got like that with a lot of girls. I felt a little better knowing that but still I just felt like another victim. I would go out of my way to see him in the halls and when I did see him, I tried to put on act of laughing with my other friends so I could show him that I wasn’t paying much attention to him. Thinking that this would create a chase for him I stopped being nice to him altogether. This kid was a tough cookie. He clearly did not care about me in that way because whatever I did just didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest bit. After many sad songs played on my iPod and many tear filled nights on the phone with Cassie, I eventually came to terms with it. I went through the whole year, being emotionally scarred over him. I would use any excuse I could find to text him or call him on some days. Sometimes I would even “accidentally” call and hang up just so I could see his name on my phone calling me back. Yeah, it was that pathetic. The year ended and we just drifted. It was a “hey” in halls, and occasional hugs, if I got lucky. I would still think of him constantly. If something didn’t remind me of him, he would always be in the back of my mind. I was a naïve freshman who craved attention and a boyfriend. Every other girl got it, so I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t in the same boat. Eventually I grew up and realized that he was not worth my time, and that he was just like any other guy, a big flirt just wanting to find a new girl every week. Growing up and becoming mature was the best thing to ever happen to me because I finally realized a high school boy’s mentality. I finally became a senior in high school and looking back on my years, I will say that I had a great experience. Freshman year and that whole fiasco is one of my many regrets though, and I would do anything to go back and do things differently, I finally met a new boy, but that’s an entirely different story. But you could have guessed

En Pointe

Slipping my foot into the shoe Toes gently tapping the hard base Taking one satin ribbon in one hand Wrapping it around my ankle The other ribbon slippery between my fingers Wrapping it around my ankle once again Meeting with the other polished ribbon Tying them into one neat knot

Hearing slight thuds on the tough floor Bending my foot, I hear the cracks of the shoe Elevating to the tips of my toes Avoiding the pain that penetrates through my feet I begin to dance

Garrett M: Lots of good imagery, but the structure could use some polishing. More line breaks and stanzas might clean it up a bit. Also, I'm not entirely sure what the metaphor is, though it could be because the subject of the poem is one I am not familiar with.