Chapter 7 Cadence
Cadence
“Persephone!” The smoothie barista shouts as she sets two smoothies down on the bar counter.
“You did not.” I point a stern glare at Ryen who smirks at me with feigned innocence. Everyone in the lobby turns and looks at me, about sixty percent of them likely know that my real name is Persephone and I hear Ryen giggle next to me.
“I did,” she replies before she waves me over to go grab our order. I lower my eyes at her as I stand, making the most awkward walk of my life to get out smoothies.
Berry Nice Milk is kind of an after school buzz.
Usually, on Fridays when school lets out, students wander down the street and hang out here for a bit before heading home to get ready for the Varsity football game.
Ryen and I are no exception, though sometimes we do stay at school to do homework in the library or to watch the boys practice.
But soon, Ryen is going to be busy with working after school and student council meetings will start the first week of September, throwing me right into prep for homecoming next month and our time together will be fairly limited.
“I’m gonna get you back for that,” I warn her as I hand her her smoothie, and a look of satisfaction curls on her face.
“I’ll be waiting,” she quips as she stands and we head out onto the sidewalk to find a table to sit at.
The sun is still shining rather brightly in the sky as it starts its descent toward the horizon. Other Harper High students walk in and out of the smoothie shop, chatting around us as Ryen is gushing over my potential college career.
“Okay so wait. You were telling me you got early acceptance into four colleges and that three of them are Ivy Leagues?”
I nod my head at her as I pull a chair out and take a seat.
“Okay, how are you not freaking out about that, Cadie?”
“It’s not that impressive,” I counter as nonchalantly as I can. “I heard Mona got accepted to every Ivy except Princeton,” I tell her before bringing my straw up to my mouth.
“Yeah, and you got accepted into freaking Princeton, girl!” she shouts enthusiastically as she pulls out a chair.
“Okay, okay. Chill. I guess it’s just not that big of a deal to me because I’m not attending an Ivy.”
Ryen stops herself, freezing mid-sitting and drops her jaw in a display of dramatics.
“What? Why not? Are you insane?” Ryen stares at me for a beat before she decides to fully take her seat.
I scoff. “You sound like my guidance counselor.”
She shrugs. “Miss Peetri has always been a smart lady. Just sayin’.” We both chuckle as she holds up her hands in mock surrender. “But it’s your decision, Cadie. And you know I will never not support you no matter what, babe.”
I give Ry an appreciative smile. I’m not going to lie, I am kind of freaking out inside.
Getting early acceptance is kind of a big deal and I’ve been holding onto this news for a while now.
But the truth is I haven’t been quite sure what I want to do after high school and I didn’t want the news to seem like something I was trying to flaunt.
Most kids would kill to have choices like I do, and most of them have an idea of what they want to do.
That’s typically why they apply to certain schools and I know there are kids who wanted to shoot for an Ivy because it’s their dream and have been shot down.
I applied on a whim. I don’t really know why.
And I do feel a bit guilty for it which is why I haven't really talked about it and why I don't really seem excited. But I am proud and I love how supportive and excited Ryen seems to be for me. But I don’t want to disappoint anyone by admitting that I don’t really want to go to a big college and waste years upon years and thousands of dollars on a career that I might not love but be stuck with for the rest of my life.
“How are the parentals taking it?” she asks and I sigh.
“I haven’t told them yet,” I admit to her, feeling slight worry in my words when I think about what they might say.
My parents have also always been supportive of the things Bray and I want to pursue, but I'm a little nervous about telling them that I got into some really good schools, but I don't want to go to any of them.
“You think they’ll be upset with you?” Ry asks with her straw in her mouth. She sits back in her chair; her fishnet clad thigh draped over her other knee as she analyzes the look on my face. I’m sure she recognizes the slight worry that swims in my eyes.
“Yes and no,” I start, placing my smoothie down on the table. “I think they’ll be confused and maybe even a little disappointed, but I truly think they’ll understand that I just really want to do something that I’ll be happy with.”
Or at least, I hope.
“Photography,” Ryen states with a proud tone laced in her voice. She knows me so well. “You know you’ve always had an eye for shit like that. You’re really good at it too and I know your parents will understand. Hell, at least you have somewhat of a plan.”
She’s not wrong. At the end of the day, I might not really have any crazy, big aspirations after high school but there are some students who still have no idea what they want to do.
One of them is sitting right in front of me.
And with three Ivy League acceptances and a weighted 5.
0 GPA, I can see how some might be confused as to why I want to settle for taking pictures for a living.
I just want to do what I know I’m going to love doing.
Though, for a minute, I thought about doing sports analytics.
Syracuse has a great program there and I know football like the back of my hand.
It’s something else I’ve grown up with and have gained a deep respect for.
But at the same time, I really just like watching it and one time, Lyra, Coach Shaw’s daughter, went into a conversation with a group of us about sports medicine and analysis and I feel like I lost my brain trying to understand what she was talking about.
So I decided I’d just leave that career path up to her.
Besides, MICA is super close to home if I ever get homesick and they have a phenomenal photography program. It’s one of the four schools I got into and I think the moment I got that acceptance—it was the first one I got—I knew that none of the other schools truly mattered.
Ryen slurps on her smoothie, the staccato sound pulling me back to focus.
“Hey, are we still on for that movie tomorrow?” I ask, changing the subject.
She places her nearly empty smoothie cup on the table, almost as if in slow motion.
Her eyes are still on her phone, looking down, as she tilts her head and lets out a rather exaggerated, “About that.” She then brings her eyes up to me slowly, almost with caution, like I might be disappointed in her.
And maybe I am, because I already know where this is heading.
“No,” I state firmly, hands out in front of me as if to stop her from proceeding. I shake my head. “Absolutely not, Ry. We had plans.”
Ryen jumps up and immediately springs into verbal action.
“Girl, it’ll be fun!” She moves in closer to me, excitement covering her features—if I can even call it that. Ryen is the most stoic and nonchalant person I’ve ever met. With me, she’s a little bit more open and expressive but even then, it’s still a casual offense.
“It’s our first party of the year,” she continues, “and we promised to live it up and shit, ya know?”
I let out a sigh. “I only really agreed to that because you told me you were tired of working and being at home all the time and that you wanted to make sure you gave yourself the full high school experience before it ends. And because-”
“Because you have had this major crush on someone who you don't even think notices you that way and I told you that you have to go for it and find out.”
I lower my gaze at her, knowing that both of us can be rather stubborn sometimes. But the whole point of that little promise we made was so that we can both push each other out of our comfort zones.
“It’s a party at my house,” I remark, still trying to convince her that we don’t have to go to this party.
“You can come over any time you want. Besides, I don’t really fit in at parties, Ry.
You know that.” I’m contradicting my own thoughts from a few moments ago.
I’m supposed to be stepping out of my comfort zone, not crawling into it.
“Okay, but that’s because you choose not to fit in. Come on. I promise you’ll have fun. And I…” she reaches out for my hand in a very confusing gesture of comfort, “might have already given our movie tickets to Shay and Thomas.”
“You did what? I paid for those!” I exclaim, slight anger lacing my tone but I pair it with a friendly demeanor as I playfully snatch my hand away from her in mock pain.
“I just knew you were going to say no,” she starts, a falsely painted look of apology in her eyes. “So I took it upon myself to make a decision for us.” She falls back in her chair, her black hair lightly picking up in the small breeze that captures us.
“I’m gonna make you pay me back for those,” I say assertively, but really, we both know I’m a pushover when it comes to her.
Ryen and I never owe anything to each other.
She buys the snacks, I get the tickets. She picks me up for school and I let her crash at my place when her stepdad is being a jerk.
We have always had each other’s backs and hardly ever as she led me astray.
It’s why I trust her and her judgment and, most of the time, trust her with my life.
“Soo…” Ryen raises her brows as she points a crooked smirk at me. “Is that a yes?”
I sigh, dropping my shoulders in a dramatic reaction, but ultimately, I nod my head. Though, before I can say anything else, my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket.
Ryen leans forward. "Is that Zach?" she asks.
"No, it's just an Instagram notification." I look at her and roll my eyes, but secretly I was kind of hoping it was him.