It was 11:30 PM on my last day of school. I was so ready to be done, but I had one more assignment. I had to write a story about someone being pressured to do something they didn’t want to do. Absolutely brain dead, what did I do? I called my bestie of course. She also happens to be a great writer, so that helped. Together we came up with this:
The Dreaded Question
Rachel L. and Glenna W.
How many times have you heard your mother say, “Would you jump off a bridge if all your friends were doing it?” I’m sure you always hated when she said that because it poked a big hole in the middle of your boat of excuses. I always replied, “Sure I would! I like to live life on the edge.” Then I would get grounded for talking back to my mom. But I always insist, as many girls do I’m sure, that I would take a leap of faith with my friends if it would help me get that new shirt, or necklace, or adorable-must-have-can’t-live-without-or-I’d-be-uncool-phone. Well, let me tell you, that confidence will waver when you are standing at the top of a bridge staring at the cold water that looks way too far down.
Let me back up. It all began at school on what started as an ordinary Wednesday. My friends and I were all sitting around the lunch table chewing on our boring slices of greasy pizza. Wednesdays are the most boring day of the week. It is a proven scientific fact that nothing exciting ever happens on a Wednesday. If the circus was scheduled to come on a Wednesday, it would break down one mile from town and not be able to make it until Thursday. I know that because it happened once. But anyway, my friends and I decided that we were going to defy the rules of science and create some excitement. We planned to meet that afternoon at the river. That may not seem too thrilling, but we had to admit, it was pretty good for a Wednesday.
Just a few hours later I was swimming in the exciting river with my exciting friends. Soon we had to get out though because it was freezing. Did I mention it was November? It was. Rather than sit in the grass and stare at each other, we decided to do what eventually happens at every event that involves teenagers: A game of truth or dare. It started out with the usual stuff-who do you like, eat a bug, stuff like that. But apparently that wasn’t enough for Kelsey. When it was her turn, she dared the hottest guy in our group (who also happens to be my crush so I won’t say his name) to—get this—jump off the bridge into the river! Hottie Pottotie, as we’ll call him, is a big show off, so he stood up and began walking up to the bridge. I didn’t think he would do it, but when he got to the top and stood on the edge, I began wondering if we would be needing to write an obituary. (How do you even write an obituary?) Actually, the bridge isn’t that high, but I bet it still looked scary up there. But Hottie Pottotie waved down at us and then bravely stepped into thin air.
Hottie Pottotie was the only one in our group who wasn’t screaming as he dropped into the river with a big splash. We held our breaths as we waited for his head to bob to the surface. Just as I began to worry that we would have to write that obituary after all, he popped up, smiling mischievously. “Ok, now that I’ve done it and survived, I dare you ALL to jump off!” Hottie Pottotie laughed. Kelsey, of course, jumped up. She would do anything to impress Hottie Pottotie. Not about to be out done by Kelsey, I sprang up and started running to the bridge. With some convincing, we eventually got the whole group to come up to the bridge.
Right up until the point when looked down, I was sure that I would be the first to jump. Before I looked down, I knew that I would fall into Hottie Pattotie’s arms and we would swim to shore and fall in love and get married. Yes, my plans were big. But all my confidence vanished when I looked down. I really shouldn’t have looked down. Slowly, I backed away from the edge, struck with a sudden case of vertigo. To my intense chagrin, Kelsey jumped right off without hesitating. “Wheeeeeee!” she yelled, although I’m sure she was scared to death. I racked my brain for an excuse, for something I could tell Hottie Pattotie so that he wouldn’t think I was a wimp. Suddenly, I heard a familiar chime. I glanced to my right, and there he was, my hero. The ice cream man! (I don’t know why he was still selling ice cream in November, but I was glad to see him!) As the rest of my friends reluctantly jumped into the water, I ran over to the truck and pulled two dollars out of my pocket. “Two fudge pops please!” When he handed them to me, I ran down to my friends, who were shivering as they crawled out of the water. Hottie Pottotie turned to me and asked, “Hey, why didn’t you jump? It was fun!”
“Oh! Well, I was going to, but then I saw the ice cream truck, and an ice cream truck is pretty rare in November, so I had to take advantage of it, of course, and he was going to drive away, so I only had one chance, and I had two dollars in my pocket that I had to use, and anyway here’s a fudge pop.”
“My favorite! Thanks!” Hottie Pattotie took the fudge pop from me and gave me a smile that made me melt into the grass. Kelsey’s glare of jealously also may have added to my happiness.
So the moral of my story is this: Next time your mom asks that dreaded question, tell her that you would walk up to the edge but then be saved by an ice cream truck and then would buy a fudge pop for your crush. And, if you’re lucky, you’ll fall in love and get married.
