Being Whitney (Book one of the Being Series): A Young Adult Novel

by Elizabeth Thompson

  Chris was introduced as the sports editor, Beth as the activities editor and Jasmine as the student life editor. Then slips of paper made their way around for students to make their choices for the section they wanted to be in.

  “What are you guys picking?” Whitney asked Everley, Ivy and Will.

  “I’m going to do photo,” Ivy said. “What about you?”

  “I honestly don’t want to work with any of those people,” Whitney said. “What section is your brother in?”

  “Why do you care?” Ivy asked.

  “Cause I don’t want to be in his section!” Whitney said.

  “I think he’s in sports,” she said.

  “I think I’m going to do sports,” Will said, and they all just nodded.

  “Eve, will you do student life with me? Beth will be so mean to me if I’m with her,” Whitney asked

  “Yeah. That’s what I think I wanted anyways.”

  In the last ten minutes of class Eva announced the sections. As she read the sports names Will was read fifth; Leif did not appear.

  “I thought you said your brother was sports.” Whitney said poking Ivy.

  “I said I THOUGHT he was sports,” Ivy said, giving Whitney a questioning glance.

  Next was activities. Phillip was read first, Leif was read second. Whew, thought Whitney. Dodged a bullet there. Everley’s name was read fifth, and Whitney’s came last. Eva paused before saying it and then shot the biggest smile at Beth. They’d done this on purpose so Beth could torment her. She stared at the lines carved into the glossy finish of her desk imagining how they’d torture her.

  ◆◆◆

  That afternoon their first basketball practice since the tournament arrived. Coach Turner started the practice with running: two timed miles on the track outside, in the 45 degree rain, then three sets of stadium circuits and a finale of 20 minutes of lines in the gym. Whitney literally almost puked. Poor Kathy did puke. After a quick water break they did burpies and wall-sits before shooting. For every shot they missed they ran more. With each line she touched, Whitney hated Eva and Beth a little bit more. This was all their fault. Why did they have to be such bitches?

  At the end of practice coach sat them in a circle to discuss their issues. No one was allowed to leave until the captains (Jasmine, Eva and Beth) determined they had worked everything out.

  “I think we have some people bringing their personal problems onto the court, which is causing a lot of issues,” the ever politically correct Kathy stated starting things off. Whitney sat against the wall of the gym with her legs crossed in front of her. Sweat dripping from every edge of her body quicker than she could wipe it away. She wondered how she’d gotten into the middle of this, she hated drama, she wasn’t cute and small, she wasn’t the girl other girls got mad at.

  They all sat in silence, staring at the floor before them.

  “I’m bordering on starving, so let’s just cut to the chase,” said Jasmine, “Whitney keeps flirting with Leif, which pisses off Eva. It’s dumb for a variety of reasons. Mostly because it’s ruining our season, but also because it’s Leif and he’s gross and because she doesn’t have a chance with him.” Beth actually applauded when she finished, the sound of the claps echoing through the quiet gym. Whitney knew she didn’t have a chance with Leif, she’d told herself that millions of times, but for some reason Jasmine’s words still stung in her gut.

  “Whitney doesn’t flirt with Leif. Leif flirts with her. And she isn’t stupid. Just because Leif likes her doesn’t make her stupid,” Everley said. Eva and Beth forced a laugh to prove how ridiculous they found her statement.

  “You think Leif, likes Whitney?” Beth began. Whitney braced herself. “Leif does not like Whitney. Leif is a nice guy. He probably feels sorry for Whitney because she’s the new girl who’s basically a giant with a face that leaves much to be desired. He thought he’d be nice to the poor girl and felt a little guilty for cheating off of her in math, so he talked to her. Idiot over there then takes that as an invite to stalk him every chance she gets.” Whitney could feel people looking at her, but she kept staring at her shoes. She fought back both tears and the urge to quit the team altogether. Her dad would let her move back. She’d be good at basketball again and have friends and never need to think of Leif again.

  “She doesn’t stalk him,” Brynley said. Brynley knew how to turn it on when she felt threatened. “You guys are mad because she’s better than you and has nicer stuff than you and is a better person than you. Whitney is smart and pretty and you guys, clearly aren’t. You guys have the problem here. Whitney just wants to play basketball.” Whitney actually smiled a little when Brynley finished. Maybe she did have real friends here.

  “Oh my God! I can’t. You freshman are beyond annoying.” Jasmine said. “We all just need to put up with each other enough to play ball. We don’t have to like each other.” She turned towards Eva, “Eva, you’ve been dating Leif for over a year. If you can’t trust he isn’t going to leave you for a freshman, whom you obviously don’t think to highly of, than that’s your own issue.”

  Next she turned to Whitney, “Whitney, stay away from Leif if you want to succeed on this team, and live. You’re a freshman. Your years of club experience and California attitude and money don’t mean shit here. Remember that. Leif’s never going to be with you.” Whitney looked up long enough to satisfy Jasmine and then quickly glanced around the circle. Pity surrounded her and she hated that. She didn’t want their pity. She didn’t even want to be here.

  “Does that make it better?” Jasmine looked around the group of exhausted and irritated girls.

  “As long as she stays in her place we will be fine,” Eva said. Her new air of confidence made Whitney’s stomach churn again.

  “Okay. Then we are done here,” Jasmine said, grabbing her stuff and heading out of the gym.

  Whitney grabbed her stuff and headed towards the door, Everley and Brynley fell instep. “Wow. They are such bitches. That was an outright attack!” Brynley said. Everley shot her a look of death.

  “Are you okay?” Everley asked. She putting her arm on Whitney’s shoulder, but Whitney shook it off and kept walking.

  “I’m fine. They’re bitches and its fine,” Whitney said.

  She saw Brynley and Everley shoot each other glances out of the corner of their eyes. She wanted away from them so badly. She felt like she was going to burst of anger, or sadness, or both. She hastily gathered her things from the locker room, text her mom and headed outside to wait. Brynley and Everley followed her and stood beside her in a silence more painful than talking. The team discussion played on repeat in Whitney’s head: ‘He probably feels sorry for Whitney because she’s the new girl who’s basically a giant with a face that leaves much to be desired,’ ‘Leif is never going to be with you,’ ‘Your years of club experience and California attitude and money don’t mean shit here. Remember that.’ How could she not? They reminded her of it daily. She conjured up every last ounce of energy to hold back the tears swelling beneath her eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Everley asked.

  “I’m fine,” Whitney said.

  Brynley’s mom arrived first, followed quickly by Everley’s dad. They both told her goodbye in a tone which insinuated she was a fragile flower, only making things worse. She let herself sink down the stone wall and settled against the cold concrete pulling her knees tight to her chest.

  “Hey!” the voice was cheerful and oh so familiar. Whitney sat refusing to look up and willing it not to be real.

  “Are you okay?” Jesse asked. His chipper attitude draining when he saw her face.

  “Yeah. Practice sucked.”

  “What happened? Was Eva a bitch again?” he asked.

  “You could say that.” As she said it she broke. A tear fell from her eye and she rushed, unsuccessfully, to brush it away before Jesse saw.

  “Whit!” Jesse reached his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.

  “I’m dis
gusting right now,” she said.

  “So am I. A little sweat never killed anyone,” Jesse said not letting up.

  “What’d she do?” he asked.

  Whitney felt so uncomfortable but didn’t have the energy to fight against the embrace. She sunk into Jesse’s shoulder and let the tears fall from her cheeks to his sweatshirt. For a few minutes she just sat there. Eventually, she sat up and wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Jesse kept his arm around her as he listened.

  “We had to talk about our issues and it turned into a Whitney bash. Eva, Jasmine and Beth were mean and said I was being a stupid immature freshman and causing all the problems on the team.”

  Whitney left out the Leif details.

  Jesse surveyed her face waiting to see if there was more.

  “Whitney,” he said. “You’re pretty and smart and funny. You’re the nicest person ever and they are evil. I’ll kill them. All of them.” The mix of concern and rage in his eyes surprised Whitney. His concern made her want to kiss him right there.

  Before she could make any rash decisions in her compromised state her mom pulled in and she jumped up, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to look normal. After a few steps, she turned and looked at Jesse still sitting on the ground. “Thank you,” she said with the first genuine smile of the last three hours. Jesse just smiled back. She watched him from the passenger window as they pulled around the parking lot and wondered if he was seriously plotting a plan to kill the seniors.

  ◆◆◆

  Whitney spent the week steering clear of the upperclassmen. In yearbook Eva assigned Everley and Whitney the chess club page allowing them to hull up in the corner of the room everyday and requiring no communication with Leif. She also buckled down on the basketball course and spoke only when spoken to. The tactic seemed to work and Whitney survived practice throughout the week, which was good since her performance in the final game of the tournament could not be repeated.

  The first league game of the year came Friday and Whitney almost felt like her old self again as the team went through their pre-game in the locker room. Unfortunately the game quickly disintegrated before her eyes. She dropped passes, forgot plays, missed calls and shot 40% on the night. When the final buzzer rang she could already hear the disappointment in her dad’s voice.

  Coach Turner tried to stay positive. Their next game was Tuesday. They’d rebound and could still own the season. Eva seemed almost satisfied with Whitney’s poor performance. She was back on the top of the team standings, where she liked to be. Whitney left the locker room through the back door and climbed into the backseat behind Mable without a word.

  “Good game,” Mable said.

  “For who?” Whitney asked.

  “Whitney, she was trying to be nice. You need to appreciate that. It isn’t her fault you didn’t play up to your potential,” her mom said. Whitney hated that saying, and her mom knew it. “Did you play up to your potential???” is exactly what her dad would ask her. Yet, he NEVER thought she did. He always felt like she had more to give, and it was almost worse on nights like tonight when she had to agree with him.

  Mable babbled on about seventh grade drama as they drove past fence-post after fence-post on their way home. Her phone rang as they pulled into the driveway and she ignored it without even looking at it. She knew it would be her dad.

  “He’ll want to talk to you. He’ll keep trying until he gets to,” her mom said.

  “I know,” Whitney said.

  “Then why don’t you just talk to him now, get it over with?” her mom asked.

  “Because I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to hear the lecture. I don’t want to break down what I could have done, what I need to do now. I don’t want to hear the disappointment in his voice. I don’t want to!” Whitney said. She slammed the car door behind her and headed into the house and up to her room without a single look back.

  Whitney showered and climbed into bed before looking at her phone again. She had three texts from Jesse.

  I waited around for you. When did you sneak out?

  I’m sorry the game wasn’t great.

  Are you okay?

  Whitney put her phone down and closed her eyes. She didn’t need to reply. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He didn’t understand why she needed to play well, how much of who she was depended on her playing well. He played his JV games without a care in the world. Jesse was sweet, but he just didn’t understand her. No one seemed to understand her; except for maybe Leif, a fact she hated as much as she loved.

  ◆◆◆

  The weekend was rainy, which ruined Whitney’s hopes of spending a good portion of it out on her court shooting around. Her dad’s call on Saturday went just as expected. She disappointed her whole family. Why had he wasted his life investing in her basketball future when she was just going to throw it all away? He’d given up when his voice was nearly gone and she’d spent the next thirty minutes in tears and the rest of the day holed up in her bedroom watching college basketball as the rain endlessly streaked down her windows.

  On Tuesday they played an away game in Winston. The two hour drive was bad enough before they lost, and unbearable after. The whole way home she held her phone ready to send him to voicemail as soon as his name popped up. While she waited his words ran through her head. Another low scoring game, reduced playing time, another loss. How was this preparing her for college? What was she doing with her life? How did she expect to succeed anywhere if she couldn’t succeed in this po-dunk town? About thirty minutes from home her phone lit up, but instead of a call it announced a text. Jesse she thought, yet when she unlocked her phone it wasn’t Jesse. It was a text from her dad.

  Another rough night I see. Obviously our talks don’t equate to results so I won’t continue to waste either of our time. Hopefully you can figure this out. A lot of people invested in building your talent.

  The tears started falling silently down her cheek on her second read of the message. She hadn’t wanted the call and now she was so sad it hadn’t come. This was worse than a call. “Hopefully you can figure this out.” It sounded like she had a drug addiction he’d tried mercilessly to help her overcome, not that she was in a basketball slump during her freshman year of high school. She laid her head against the cold clammy window and stared at the passing fields lining the highway. Nothing made sense to her anymore. Nothing felt right. She looked at the text message again and the weight of his disappointment dropped in her gut even harder. She needed her dad to think she was good; it’s all she’d ever needed and she’d had it. He’d shown her off like a prize pony since she’d won MVP at basketball camp when she was eight. Not now though, now she didn’t even warrant a phone call. She let the bus rattle her head against the window and fought to stop the tears. She could hear Brynley and Everley giggling in the seat across from her. She wanted to be their friend so badly, to fit in with them. She also had all these swirling feelings about Leif and Jesse and she had no idea how to deal with those. Together all these things left her questioning everything, even her basketball and now her dad questioned her too, worse than ever before. Everley’s uncontrollable laugh filled the bus, and luckily distracted everyone from Whitney’s quiet tears.

  ◆◆◆

  On Wednesday Whitney went through all the motions of her day. She talked to the same people, avoided the same people, laughed when it was expected and practiced with focus. At night, when she laid in bed replaying the awful day in her mind, she tried to remember the win would be worth it.

  Unfortunately, Friday night the win didn’t come. She definitely played better, but better wasn’t good enough. She was not good enough. This fact was reinforced when her dad called on Sunday afternoon.

  “I’ll ask you again, do you need to come back home?” he asked when she answered his call.

  “What?” she’d at least expected a hello.

  “This didn’t happen when you were here. You had a future when you were here. Your mom thought this move would be s
o good for you; save you from the emotional stress you didn’t need, but obviously she was wrong. I’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice so that you could focus on basketball and now you’re just throwing it away.”

  “I’m not throwing it away,” Whitney said, “It’s hard…” She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t explain it to him. She couldn’t explain it to herself. It was impossible to play like herself when she didn’t feel like herself.

  “It’s not hard there Whitney. It’s hard here! You faced harder competition last summer at camp. You should own the entire league. It’s hard…” he chuckled a little mocking her.

  “Life is harder here,” she said, knowing he didn’t care. He’d never cared about the mushy drama stuff, which was one of the reasons they’d always gotten along so well. She missed that. She missed not carrying about the mushy stuff.

  “You know nothing about hard Whitney! You know absolutely NOTHING. You are acting like a spoiled little brat. Maybe you need to lose every chance of being successful and then you can get a taste of hard. I can’t believe you’re even my kid right now.” Her dad fumed. Whitney started crying.

  “Do not cry! Do not even think about it. You may be a spoiled brat but you will not be a wimp!”

  “I’m sorry,” Whitney said fighting to stop the tears, or at least the sound of the tears in her voice. Stopping the real tears was a lost cause.

  “I’m done here. I see you don’t play again until next Friday so I expect to see significant improvement by then,” he said.

  “You will,” Whitney said, praying she could follow through.

  “Love you, Whit,” he said and then he hung up before she could reply.