Perfect Ninety

-3

After five luxurious hours at the gym, me, my mom and dad barge into the house like cavemen. I throw my bag onto the couch and head for the shower. My mom runs into the kitchen and takes a pack of hamburger out of the refrigerator and starts to make cheeseburgers. My dad gently pushes my bag onto the other cushion and turns to ABC.
Most girls sing in the shower, some girls cry in the shower, I go over routines and make sure my homework is done and attempt to scrape the chalk from the blisters on my hands. I guess that's why people hate me and don't hesitate to tell me to my face. They know I'm in gymnastics. They know I've been in higher level classes since 5th grade. I'm classified as one of the rich, preppy girls. I lose friends because I'm busy on the weekends at a gymnastics competition winning first all-around. People ignore me because I'm not obsessed with a band or into today's pop culture. I'm the one people beg for answers on their algebra 1 homework while I'm in geometry. I'm the one people cheat off of during any test. I'm the one people run back to when they realize they can't pass algebra for the 2nd time without my answers--which I rarely give to people.

Everyone in school expects you to have spare time 24/7. That its okay to show up out of the blue--for me, these statements are bogus. Everybody thinks it's okay to not be committed to their work and wonder why they have to repeat English 1 as a junior. I don't like making anything lower than an 88 but the few times I have--very seldom occurrences--I didn't cry or throw a fit. I handled it maturely, not like anyone else I know.
Nobody ever gives me the chance to tell them how I even started.

My parents had this epiphany while I was at preschool one day that they had more free time on their hands and decided to get real jobs. Its not like they did drugs or anything like that. They were just more about hanging out than having a career. Which was not a good idea for two 22- year-olds and their 4-year-old daughter. It hit them hardest when they saw the eviction notice on the front door and when my grandma, the woman who would give money to a serial killer, told us she was sick of helping my parents. We were kicked out of our house and forced to live in a hotel for several months. I was taken out of preschool and I never returned. I didn't think much about how bad it was when we were living in the hotel, getting to watch Disney Channel while my parents were constantly on the phone.
My mom went back to school and got a job as a lawyer--which took a long time. My dad works as a Human Resources Manager down the street. Once my parents earned enough money, my mom wanted me to have a childhood and a future, so she signed me up for ballet classes. I stayed in ballet for a full year until I was 6. When I saw the 2004 Olympics. Call me a hypocrite but the Olympics made want to try it. That was when I wanted to do gymnastics. The sport I have fallen in love with...
...but no one cares about your life story or why you do what you do. If you have money to spare, you're automatically a prep. To people you seem like an over-achiever, maybe it's just in my blood.
I can't pinpoint the exact reason why they hate me so much but they all just have it so wrong. I'm not that perfect. It's just that we can afford all of this and I still have time for a social life. I wish some of these people would get to know me instead of hating me from afar.

I step out of the shower and grab a towel to dry myself off. I put on my polka dot pajamas and walk towards the living room where the scent of cheeseburgers and the sounds of 'The Middle' came to suffocate me into normality.