Fate of the Fishbowl

Summary: A shy girl and a cheerleader share a secret romance.

Note 1: This story was written in 2021 with plans to be part of the Art of Falling one-day event. Here is a summary of the rules:

Falling, or more specifically, falling in love, is an experience that has been told many times. We never tire of it. The rush of emotions, all the happy juices our brains produce, it never gets stale. Most of us remember that first blush of romance, the first serious attraction we felt as we became preoccupied with a special someone. Maybe it was the beginning of the love of a lifetime, maybe it was an interlude before it faded and we proceeded on to other loves, leaving us fond or painful, memories. These are stories of new love. Not necessarily young or first love, but those early days when it was all fresh and new. Great writers coming together to write love stories, those are the stories we have to tell.

The idea of attempting to write a straight romance, my first in years after my rarely-read Serendipity back in early 2013, had seemed like a fun challenge. So I went to work on this story. Unfortunately, what had begun as a simple first crush story turned into a 23,000-plus word first love story, and so I missed the deadline for the Art of Falling event and so here it is presented as a Valentine's Day 2022 Contest Story.

Note 2: Thanks to BlackRandi1958 for the contest idea and Tex Beethoven for editing the story.

Do you remember the first time you fell for someone?

The first time your body betrayed you?

The first time you felt things you couldn't control and didn't know if you wanted to?

Well my first time, and the awakening of a sexuality I hadn't anticipated, found me not only confused, but it sprang at me out of nowhere.

At eighteen and a virgin, I knew I wasn't like everyone else.

I wasn't popular.

I wasn't special.

I was just some girl on the periphery.

In a school of only 240 students in a town of less than 10,000 residents, I wasn't able to be invisible, but I wasn't popular either.

I'd attended school with pretty much all the same kids for thirteen years.

Then one morning my English teacher pulled out a fishbowl filled with small slips of paper and set it on top of his desk with a flourish.

"Who believes in Fate?" he asked the class.

"You mean how me and Beth are destined to be together for all eternity?" Joey, a smart-ass jock asked, which got laughs from his small legion of followers.

"Only when Hell freezes over," refuted Beth, the most popular girl in our school, who was dating a college guy.

"It's feeling kind of frosty right now, don't you think?" Joey quipped, always able to come up with some witty, or witty in his and his cohorts' minds. If he was the standard for popular, it was pretty easy to see why I didn't fit in at this school.

Each and every boy around here was a moron.

I couldn't wait to leave them all behind, go to college, and start meeting sophisticated people. Unlike Wallacetown, where a gun rack was the most popular accessory for a vehicle... even in the cars.

I was a vegetarian by choice, or rather a pescatarian, since I hated the thought of eating something that had once been alive and walking around, but I wasn't willing to go as far as giving up fish. I didn't really tell that to people... just my friends... both of them... since I'd get teased relentlessly if the Neanderthals found out about that oddity of mine.

Mr. Parker said, "Well, today Fate is in your hands. Or at least in the hands of the brave souls among you willing to place their hands into this bowl and withdraw Her decrees. Which in fact will be precisely half of you."

"Ooooooooh," some of the boys moaned spookily, as if he'd said something eery about ghosts, unable to be mature for even a second... while I began worrying what this could be about.

"What's in the fishbowl?" Daisy asked.

"Each of your names," he said.

"Why?" Daisy asked a little impatiently.

"Because..." Mr. Parker began, then paused dramatically like he often did, he'd been a theatre major and an English minor in college, which he'd mentioned about a hundred times throughout our one-and-a-bit semesters with him. Our school was small enough to have a single English teacher for grades ten, eleven and twelve. For obvious reasons, the dating pool was quite small. "Your partner for a two-person, three-minute creation of a scene will be decided by Fate."

What the fuck? I thought to myself...partly because I didn't swear out loud, but mainly because I'd already picked my best and most trusted friend Jamie to be my partner for this anxiety-riddled assignment he'd foreshadowed last week, my other bestie Cameron having graduated the previous year.

"Seriously?" Gretchen asked antagonistically, the blunt bitch of the class.

"Of course I'm serious," Mr. Parker said. "The human experience is all about overcoming challenges, and about working, hopefully harmoniously, with people who have different thoughts and opinions than ourselves, and thus joining together to create something beautiful."

Mr. Parker had always seemed a bit hippy-ish, if that's a word, but this newest venture was on an entirely different level of 'You've got to be kidding me!'

"Why can't we pick our own partners?" Jamie asked, glancing at me briefly, she being a lot more talkative in class than I was.

"Because that wouldn't be tempting Fate," he said, as he picked up and brandished the fishbowl as if it were the Holy Grail.

"I'm fine with picking my own partner," Joey said. He happened to be seated in the front left corner of our rectangle of school desks.

"I'm sure you are," Mr. Parker said, and he stuck the fishbowl in front of him. "So reach in and pick one."

"Whatever," Joey said. "But I'd better not get Gus." Gus was the social outcast of the school. I mean who else came from a family of nine and wore hand-me-downs from the entire community? He also often wasn't at school... like today.

"You're in the Hands of Fate," Mr. Parker said.

"Yeah, yeah, so Fate and my subconscious mind are in complete control of my destiny, blah, blah, blah," Joey said, "and even if I'm walking around outside someday and an airplane wheel falls on my head, somehow Fate and I collaborated in making that happen," and he reached his hand in the bowl and pulled out a name. He unfolded it and said, "Cool! Fate gave me the GOAT!"

"Sweet," Mike, his best friend said. He then added unnecessarily, "He means 'Greatest of all Time', for anyone not with it."

Joey showed the name to Mr. Parker. "I picked myself."

Mr. Parker laughed. "You should buy yourself a lottery ticket today, Mr. Jones. The odds of that were quite slim."

"Yep, 4.5%," Ben, our class math genius said, since there were 22 students in the class.

"You're such a nerd," Joey accused, shaking his head and looking at Ben disparagingly.

"Those are a lot better odds than Ben ever getting laid," Mike joked.

"Boys, enough," Mr. Parker said sternly, not willing to allow any bullying in his class... which was good of him, after our tenth grade English teacher Mr. Marks had seemed way too happy to encourage it.

"So now I do the project by myself and get double the grade?" Joey asked.

"No, Mr. Jones, you reach in and draw another name," Mr. Parker said, the only teacher who called each of us by our surnames... a practice he claimed evened the playing field in a class... another of his hippy weirdo ideas.

"Okay," Joey said, as he stuck his hand in the fishbowl again.

"And as this process continues," Mr. Parker explained, "if you draw your own name, or someone who's already drawn from the fishbowl, you'll set it aside and draw again."

"Yeah," Joey said, as he pulled his hand out and fist pumped Mike as he showed him who he'd chosen. "Jill!" Jill Simmons was a very pretty girl and she had a nice body, but she wasn't the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. Which to Joey's eyes, was probably perfect.

"Then I guess Fate has decided to fail you two," Beth quipped, this getting quite the laugh from the classroom, since she was always able to make witty comments that were actually funny. She was the prettiest girl in the school. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a pretty smile that seemed to get the attention of every boy here, and since her boyfriend was in college and had gone to a different high school in a different district, she even attracted attention outside of this town.

I'd thought the exact same thing as she'd said, but I would never have spoken out. I wouldn't want to attract any attention, or the possible scorn that could follow my doing any such thing. Instead, I just sat there in my long dress, my ankles crossed, and dreaded my name being called, or If he was going methodically down the row to draw names, I'd be the fifth one to draw. I was funny that way, I guess. I had absolutely no qualms about standing up in class and responding to questions about the subject matter of a class, and I even loved taking part in the school's Debate Club, but the idea of speaking out with any repartee, or... heaven forbid... anything personal about myself, turned me into a quivering wreck.

"Ms. Tucker," Mr. Parker said, moving on to the student seated next to Joey with his 'Fishbowl of Fate', and addressing her in a lot less teacher-ish tone than he had the jock.

"Sorry, Mr. Parker," Sally Tucker apologized, in the way she habitually apologized unnecessarily, only because she feel compelled to, and her tone making it clear she wasn't really sorry. So really, what was the point? Again, not that I'd ever say anything out loud about harbouring such critical thoughts. In any case, she drew Harold Adams' name, who was a quiet boy almost as shy as I was, if that was possible.

As I'd dreaded, Mr. Parker advanced to the next person in my row, Sandra Saunders.

"Do I get at least a mulligan?" she asked, probably joking. Partly because Sandra was a competitive golfer, and partly because she'd just broken up with Adam Whittier, so if they had to be partners, it would get ugly quick.

"Nice play on words, Ms. Saunders," Mr. Parker approved, as he offered her the bowl.

"I try," Sandra said, as she placed her hand in the fishbowl, grasped a piece of paper, began to pull it out, but then dropped it back in and selected another. "That first one just felt wrong."

"Then Fate decreed it to be wrong," Mr. Parker agreed, obviously appreciating her wit.

Sandra opened the piece of paper and announced, "Jamie."

My heart dropped. My only friend was now chosen, and so was no longer available. Once again I cursed to myself in my head, Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Your Fate is sealed," Mr. Parker declared, amused by his own lame word play.

Jamie gave me a silent I'm sorry look... since she knew without anything being said, I was devastated. Sandra was a great choice for Jamie however, although she could work well with almost anyone, and Jamie was a theatre girl who would excel at this assignment.

"Mr. Anderson," Mr. Parker said, offering the next person in front of him the fishbowl. "May the odds ever be in your favour."

"Please stop trying to be funny," Ken Anderson objected, since Mr. Parker was always attempting to be witty... for instance, he had a lot of dad jokes, and he wasn't even a dad.

Ken reached his hand into the jar and pulled out a piece of paper. "Carter."

I began to feel an anxiety attack rising inside me as Mr. Parker stepped in front of me. He said something to the class, but I was so focused on worrying about what was about to happen, I wasn't listening.

"Ms. Patterson, it's your turn," Mr. Parker said, as I looked up at him with sheer terror.

"Can't I just do this skit by myself?" I asked hopefully.

"A two-person skit requires two people by definition, Ms. Patterson," he pointed out.

"I could do a skit about being bipolar?" I suggested. I knew that was a lame idea, but I wasn't aspiring for anything clever, I was just trying to wriggle myself off the hook.

"Sorry, you're required to have a partner," Mr. Parker said, for some insane reason unable to detect my complete terror.

I didn't immediately put my hand in the fishbowl, but with twenty-one pairs of eyes watching, including Mr. Parker's, actually only twenty, since one person was missing today, I stuck my hand in the fishbowl and pulled out a name.

I was shaking slightly as I unfolded the piece of paper. I stared at it. I didn't even know how to react as I saw Beth Prince's name staring back up at me.

When I didn't say anything, Mr. Parker took the piece of paper from my hand and read it out loud, "Ms. Prince."

"Nice," Beth said, surprising me. She wasn't ever mean to me, but she also didn't really acknowledge my existence. Most people didn't.

I looked over at her and she smiled, which made me smile back.

"It's your density," Mr. Parker said.

I looked up at the Back to the Future reference, my Dad's favourite movie, and someone, one of the girls, called out, "Dude!"

"What? You haven't ever seen the masterpiece that's Back to the Future?" Mr. Parker asked, slightly wounded that the rest of us were silent. In my case I could have said something sensible, but I never spoke out about anything that wasn't strictly academic.

"Most of us were born in 2003 or 2004," Sandra pointed out. "That movie came out way back in 1985."

"Fine, fine," Mr. Parker said, and he advanced to George, the final student in my row.

For the next ten minutes I tuned out while I tried to figure out how I was supposed to work with the most popular girl in the school. Sure, she'd smiled at me, but that could have been, and likely was, just her putting on a brave face. No way was she excited by my picking her, whether because of Fate or just random chance.

Once everyone's partners were chosen, Mr. Parker said, "We have ten minutes left in the period, so why don't you all meet with your partners and start brainstorming your plans?"

"You haven't explained yet what we're supposed to do except to come up with a three-minute skit," Beth pointed out. Do you have any guidelines for us, or is this just a free-for-all?"

"Right, right," he acknowledged her point. "I suppose knowing your assignment would be helpful."

Mr. Parker went to his desk and Beth, in her cheerleading outfit, came over to me. "Move, she said to George, who was seated in the desk to my right.

George hurriedly exited his seat; and Beth pulled it close to me and sat down.

"Hey, Bailey," Beth said.

"Hey, Beth," I said.

"This will be fun," she said, smiling widely, and looked to be sincerely friendly.

Mr. Parker handed out a paper and we both read our copy together.

Your task:

Pick any play, novel, short story or movie we have read or watched this year, and do one of the following:

A. Create a new scene that enhances the development of any character.

B. Extend a scene to enhance the development of any character.

C. Create a prologue or epilogue that enhances or alters the ending.

"Oh fun," Beth said, appearing very excited.

"I don't know if that's what I'd call it," I said doubtfully. I was a writer, not an actor. I'd written hundreds of poems, a few short stories, and I was probably halfway through my first novel (because who knew how long a novel would be before it was completed)... but I hadn't read any of my work to the other students, except for Jamie... only she and Mr. Parker had read any of my writing.

"Really?" Beth asked, placing her hand on top of mine... making my eyes go wide. "You love to write."

"How could you know that?" I asked, a little defensively.

"I always see you writing in your journals in class, at lunch, and even at pep rallies," she said.

Everything she said was accurate, and I was surprised she'd noticed. Since as I mentioned, I was the girl out on the periphery. I felt a little guilty about the pep rallies, since she performed at them. "Yeah, I'm sorry; I'm not really much of a school spirit gal."

"No worries, I'm not much of a writer," Beth said, squeezing my hand and then taking hers away, sending a confusing chill up my spine. "But what I am is creative and dramatic. So we should make a great team."

"But this will be acting, and I'm terrible in front of people, unless I'm talking about academic stuff or pure logic," I said. "If there are actual emotions involved, I get complete stage fright, even in front of just a few people."

"No worries, I can help you with that," she offered, her smile so warm, confident and charming... she was more than a little disarming. "For instance, I suspect that whenever you're doing any public speaking or debating, you're hiding your real self behind a dispassionate façade where it's safe. True?"

"Oh? I've never thought of it like that, but I guess you're right," I admitted. And she was right!

"Then whenever you're acting, you could still hide: it can just be behind your character's emotions instead of your real ones. And while we're rehearsing together... just you and me... you can practice doing that, and I can promise not to judge you if you falter from time to time. Do you think that approach sounds promising?"

"Well... yes, actually. And thanks!" I said, somehow feeling able to do something way out of my comfort zone because of her inspiring words.

"Not a problem. And why don't you come by my house after school?" she invited me.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah, let's begin with some brainstorming, or at least we can figure out which work we'd like to pick holes in," she elaborated.

"Okay," I agreed. Beth lived in the nicest house in town, her Dad having been a CEO for some multinational marketing company, and he'd almost never been home until he never came home again, after dying in a traffic accident a few years ago just before Christmas... I'd overheard her explaining all of that to her friends and fellow cheerleaders once. For a girl so pretty, so popular and so confident, I actually felt a little sorry for her.

On the other hand, my parents were always home. My Dad worked at the local hospital as their accountant, and my Mom worked at the same hospital as an RN. My family wasn't wealthy of course, but unlike many kids, I actually enjoyed spending time with my parents. Our Wednesday game night was a tradition we'd missed only once in the last five years... which had been because I was in the hospital with an extreme fever that had ended up being nothing, although at the time it was pretty scary.

"You take the bus to and from school, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," I admitted, living on the west side of town, while the school was on the east side... which was where Beth lived.

"I'll meet you right after school, and I'll drive us to my house," she offered, just as the bell rang. "In the parking lot, just outside the school building; is that okay with you?"

"Okay," I agreed, as she stood up.

"This will be so much fun!" she said, still smiling warmly at me. I wanted to trust her enthusiasm; I wanted to trust her sincerity; yet I still felt this just had to be all a charade... which I realized a bit later was a little unfair to Beth, since she'd never been mean to me. I'd thought she never noticed me, but she'd just disproven that assumption. I also realized I was judging her with nothing to go on, which made me angry with myself, since I hated being judged for any reason, unfair or not.

"If you say so," I laughed awkwardly.

"I do say so," she assured me, turning and bouncing, almost skipping, away.

Jamie came over to me and observed, "Beth seems excited to partner with you."