The Alpha I Hated

I always seemed to find myself right back here, standing in the middle of the school gym, red and white balloons formed into a stupid heart-shaped arch on the makeshift stage with the scent of too much perfume choking me and the sickly-sweet remains of spilled fruit punch hanging in the air. The walls were lined with cheap string lights, casting a dim golden glow over the room, but it did nothing to hide the peeling paint and basketball scuff marks on the floor. The bass of the music thumped low in my chest, a steady, pulsing reminder that I shouldn't be here. But I was. Why? I knew I should run. I knew exactly what was coming. But for some reason, I could never escape it. I could never stop it or change anything and it always played out exactly the same. Every. Single. f*****g. Time. "Do you... do you wanna dance?" I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to hear myself say those stupid, naive words again... But there they were, bubbling up in my chest and forcing themselves out through my lips. Ryan’s expression flickered, something flashing in his deep brown eyes. Confusion? Horror? Revulsion? All three? My heart withered like a dying star, collapsing in on itself over and over again as I waited for him to say the words I knew he was going to say. But, of course, right on cue, Caleb’s laughter shattered the silence, sharp and cruel. "Oh my God, are you serious?" he cackled, clutching at his stomach as if it physically pained him how funny the entire situation was. Ryan chuckled too, as if Caleb’s laughter was somehow contagious. But I wasn't laughing. Somehow, the joke isn’t so funny when you realize you’re the punchline. His gaze dropped, scanning me up and down as if he needed ammunition to fuel his response. And suddenly, I felt it. The dress. The hideous peach-colored dress my aunt had picked out for me. "Perfect for a Valentines Dance!" she had insisted. What did I know? I was twelve. It was the first dance I'd ever been to and initially, I had thought it was pretty. The monstrosity was made out of some crappy, shiny fabric that made my skin itch all night and it had a ridiculous bow cinched around the waist that made it look like the dress belonged to a porcelain doll or something. To add insult to injury, it was short, making my awkward, gangly legs look even longer and skinnier, and the top gaped loosely where budding boobs should have been... Except I had none. In contrast, the other girls looked gorgeous. Their long, elegant dresses making them look sexy and sophisticated and much older than they were... but me, I looked like a little girl trying to play dress up. Ryan exhaled deeply, like this whole situation was just mildly inconvenient for him. Like I was mildly inconvenient. "I don’t think so, Ash," he finally said. "I'm not into nerds." The words hit me like a blade to the chest, but before I could even process them properly, Caleb had to make sure to twist the knife. "Yeah, loser. Why would Ryan be interested in someone like you?! Have you even seen yourself?" I flinched. Of course I had seen myself. I could see myself right then, in the expression of disgust on Ryan’s face, in the laughter that spilled from Caleb’s lips, in the dozens of eyes I suddenly realized were watching this entire ordeal unfold. Caleb's hysterics had drawn the attention of onlookers and here they were, watching... listening... judging. And I knew what they saw. Nothing more than a scrawny, nerdy freak with minimal social skills, standing there like an i***t, humiliating herself for everyone to see. I tried to speak. To say something. To say ANYTHING. But, as always, my throat felt like it was being crushed and breathing seemed to be as much as I could hope to achieve. "God, Ashleigh, you're so pathetic," Caleb continued with a huge smile on his face as he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. It was clear that this was one of the best days of his life. "I... I just..." The words barely came out, weak and unsteady as my voice trembled slightly. Ryan wasn’t even looking at me anymore, instead, he was looking around as if hoping someone would rescue him from this awkward situation... like he was embarrassed to be associated with me. I willed my legs to move, desperate to leave the pain and humiliation that hung over me, but I was glued to the spot. "I thought we were, like… friends," I finally managed to choke out. My final, pathetic attempt to salvage some dignity from this. Caleb began to laugh again, wheezing now from the exertion, but Ryan just shook his head, cold and unapologetic. "No," he said, his voice flat and final. "I’m Caleb’s friend. And you’re just his nerdy little cousin." Silence. I felt it sink in. Felt it drive through me like a stake in my heart, leaving me feeling hollow and empty. Then, like a wave crashing over me, I heard it... laughter. Not just from Caleb now. Not just from Ryan. But from everyone who stood witness. The watching crowd had chosen whose side they were on, and it was clear it wasn't mine. It was never mine. The room began to spin around me and it felt like the walls were closing in. The music faded into static and I couldn't breathe. I need to get out. I need to— I woke up gasping as my heart thundered in my chest and my lungs struggled for air. For a moment, I wasn't sure where I was. The dream lingered on, tangling itself around me like a viper, refusing to release me from its grip. Finally, the familiar shadows of my bedroom came into focus, the glow of my PC monitor casting the desk in blue light, my window slightly cracked, letting in the cold Washington air. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that it was all just a dream. Well, more like a nightmare... A nightmare I'd actually had to live through and found myself having to live through again and again at least once a month as it crept its way into my subconscious mind. My sheets were tangled around me and my hands still shook as my brain fought to differentiate the dream from reality. I pressed my palms against my eyes, sucking in a slow, shuddering breath. Five years. Five f*****g years and still, the nightmare would drag me back through time to experience the humiliation over and over again with agonizing precision. Every f*****g detail exactly the same every single time. I hated that it still got to me. I hated that it still hurt all these years later. With a deep sigh, I dragged a hand down my face, forcing my still-trembling fingers to reach for my phone on the nightstand. 1:15 AM. I exhaled, dropping my head back onto the pillow as I stared up at the ceiling, now wide awake. Well... I guess I wasn't going to get back to sleep after that. May as well stream.