Rachael

You traverse the winding pathway that leads to the front of the school, a pink slip clutched in your sweaty hand. You’ve always wondered why the smallest things, the least important events of the day, always affect you more than they should. When you forget your lunch at home, you find yourself breaking down completely instead of calmly pulling out your olive-green wallet like the mature person you’re supposed to be. When you get a single late slip, you stare wide-eyed at the blue slip of paper as if it is condemning you to a far worse punishment. When the smallest thing happens, you overreact and make a big deal out of it when most people deal with it in other, more mature ways. So now you’re worried that you’re going to get yelled at the blond lady behind the desk, even though the late permit your mom wrote out for you guarantees you a way out of any kind of trouble.

You’ve always exaggerated the smallest things, and that was what made Rachael ditch you in the first place. Well, actually she never really ditched you, she just announced that she was fed up with your immature behavior and left, disappearing from a life of popularity and perfection and mingling with the crowd of nerds, geeks and bookworms that roam the school halls, immersed in the wonders of Ivanhoe and Treasure Island. They have always annoyed you, partially because of their annoying air of superiority when they’re really the outcasts of the social world (as if they will ever face reality and accept that truth), but mostly because you’re reading below grade level when they seem to be ready for college. Smart people have always irritated you, not simply because of their intelligence, but because they’re smarter than you. So now Rachael has replaced you with her new crowd of friends, their noses buried in Jane Eyre while you struggle with the thinnest novels.

But ever since she left you, you’ve tried to convince yourself that she was always a nerd and a geek at heart. No one who makes high honor roll isn’t a geek, and those who made the principal’s list are the greatest geeks of all. What would someone like you want to do with someone like her? But you still have a feeling of jealousy buried in the back of your mind and fighting to be noticed. You secretly wish that once, just once, you could be smarter or wiser than the nerds. You may be prettier and better-liked, but for once you’d like to be known for something less superficial.

Just before you can get the chance to reprimand yourself for becoming the nerd Rachael always was, you stop dead in your tracks. A sob escapes from the throat of a shadow leaning against the front door to the school, a figure with flowing brown hair that reaches her shoulders and beyond (obviously a girl), and you manage to notice her shining eyes that seem to melt as the tears trace the side of her face. You realize at once that she is the nerdiest geek of them all, yet there is something about her that you cannot help admiring. The beauty in her eyes, the eyes trapped behind the large glasses that swallow up most of her bony face, that are not revealed on her pale face holds intelligence and a kindness that is impossible for you to boast of. For once you ignore the thick novel clutched tightly in her sweaty hand and is obviously the cause of her distress, and pause a moment to marvel at the inner beauty that you, popular though you may be, have never possessed.

Then a lightning bolt seems to strike and bring you to reality as the girl stares at you, her eyes growing larger. She slowly averts her gaze, but you know that you are the target of her attention. "Hi, Sara," she mutters, her voice like a whisper in the sudden silence. Even her sobs have been stifled, but the tears still glitter on her long eyelashes. She uncomfortably fingers the material of her jeans, refusing to look you in the eye for one simple reason:
The nerdy girl with the inner beauty is Rachael.

"Hi, R -" You attempt to say her name, the name that the shallow side of your personality, the side that has been eating at your inside for years, has learned to despise and ignore. She manages to look up at you expectantly, but the words refuse to come out. For some reason, something is keeping you from talking to your former friend.
Without bothering to ask why she is outside reading a book, or why the school seems empty and silent, you run up the stone steps, open the doors somehow without pushing her aside, and burst into the quiet main lobby next to the office. You spin around, wondering why everyone seems to be missing - and then you remember. Today is the school wide field trip, and you’re late, so you missed it. Swearing under your breath, you slowly open the office door, and when the blond lady sees you with a frown, she holds up a single finger, signaling you to wait.

As you wait, leaning against the desk, you muse over what has happened between you and Rachael. You suddenly realize that you are both fallen stars, which is the only thing anymore that you both have in common, but in entirely different ways. Rachael used to be a shining star, as popular and praised as you are now, constantly smiling and scorning the nerds, but only half-heartedly. Now she is fallen beneath every social class, a nerd and geek herself, a member of the bookworms that irritate everyone above them. But you have fallen even further, carrying artificial glory of popularity and admiration. Your inner beauty has long since been replaced by outer beauty that holds no meaning beneath the flawless skin, the black mascara, and the French manicure. But Rachael holds the inner beauty, the beauty that is far more important and valuable than any other.
Finally you realize what you must do.

Bursting out of the gray, strange-smelling office, you run out of the school and return to the front, where Rachael has obviously been crying harder, but not because of the novel. Experiencing the pang of remorse and guilt that you should have felt so long ago, back when your enemity first began, you manage to speak to her, and feel the happiness you used to feel, back when you were still friends. The words, so simple and yet so meaningful, filled with sorrow and a flicker of hope, spark a break in the heavy silence and bring a slow smile to the tearful face.
"Hi, Rachael."