I hung up the phone, my head strangely clear. As I took a deep breath, I moved across the dining room to open the patio door. Pulling it open, I stepped into the muggy summer air. Sun beat down as my feet grazed the prickly brown psuedo-grass of our back porch. Fumbling, I picked up my brothers old basketball. I took the three side steps slowly and attempted to manuever the faded orange globe in the span of my fourteen-year-old hands. The ball fell from my grasp, and I caught it on the first bounce up. I dribbled tenatively as I aimlessly wandered our long, cracked, cement driveway. I watched the ball land in front of me repitiously with a slightly numbing and hypnotizing effect.

Suddenly, from somewhere deep within me, came a forceful action. I lifted my head up, my partly grown-out peroxided bangs wisping in my eyes, and released in a single forceful movement. I pushed the ball away powerfully, brainwashed long enough. The ball soared freely and slammed into the hoop without hesitation.

I realized I was free.

Elation, empancipation, and relief swept me. A smile appeared on my face, and for the first time I wondered why I was not upset. Where were my nerves? Where were my tears? I was not entirely sure, but I knew I would not resort to the tears that had plagued me for the last three months.

As I lifted the warm gate latch and retreated into the backyard, my breath grew rapid; out of exhilaration rather than trauma. My smile, at that point,had grown so large I felt unreal. The fact that I was smiling at all was unreal. My two "best friends" had had one of their new friends (who seemed to know no fear) call to tell me that our friendship had reached it's bitter end and that she was truly "sorry."

Reclining on the tire swing on our worn out swing set, I wondered if their bearer of bad news had expected me to break down into sobs or to irrationally yell at her report. Instead I had told her that I understood and had figured as much. For once, I knew I was telling myself the truth. Rather than being bombarded by a new sense of confusion, everything was now clear and calm. I saw a chance to start over, to initiate, and to enjoy contact with the "forbidden" friends who were deemed "losers" by my betrayers.

I must have fallen into their "loser" category long ago. As I came to this realization I relaxed. Curiosuly, I tried to pinpoint an occassion, but there was no specific instance where I had lost their favorable sightings. I had last my "status" over the past three to four months. Over that time I had grown tired and bothered by their acts of ridicule toward everyone and everything that did not meet their seventh grade level of "coolness." Non-verbally, I rebelled against their standards so I could be myself and avoid wittnessing their ridicule of others. My quest for individuality had turned their ridicule upon me, and eventually exiled me from the group.

Instead of looking back vengefully today at what they had done to me, I realize what I did for myself and for my real friends. I let go of any of our group inhibitions directed at the "losers." The girls who "betrayed" me granted me the freedom I was too scared to fight for.

Originally penned: September 7, 1997