Her Name Was Katrina

I was born a Shelly. My name at birth was James Shelly, but even since I've been dubbed, simply, "Shelly." Since I was born into a family of ten, no one ever said "James Shelly made the football team." My whole life, it's always been "A Shelly kid made the football team." And being #6 of 8 kids, my parents didn't need to buy me a crib, clothes, or toys for me when my mom was pregnant. Heck, they didn't even need to buy diapers, my older sister, Loretta, was only about a year older than me, she was still using them. To my parents, I was just another seat in the van. Another burger to cook at dinner. Another college fund to save. To my siblings, I was the another person to get into an argument with. Another poor sap forced to listen about their latest achievement. Another kid to blame their actions for. And to everyone else, teachers, friends, adults, I was Shelly. All four of my sisters went by their names, Lucy, Anne, Loretta and Katie. All three of my brothers went by their names, David, John and Mark. But I was the only one labeled Shelly.
There was only one person in the world who ever called me James.
Her name was Katrina.
Besides growing up with all those kids and two overworked parents, I also grew up in a farm house in a tiny, 3-mile town called Pennyten, Minnesota. It was the kind of town where everyone was the same. White, Christian, Republican. Everyone considered themselves a "redneck" and was proud of it. All the boys planned on playing for the Texas Cowboys, while all the girls dreamed of being the next Taylor Swift with five kids.
There was only one girl who didn't go along with all that.
Her name was Katrina.
In Pennyten, the only music worth listening to was country singers like Faith Hill, Tim McGraw and Kenny Chesney. Pop was silly, rock and roll was too rebellious, and alternative/indie was "weird."
There was only one person in all of Pennyten who broke that unspoken rule.
Her name was Katrina.

"I'm THIS close to banging her," Brad McGuffen said at lunch on the first day back from summer.
I had spent my summer having water gun fights with my brothers, riding my bike, playing football and getting in as many Call of Duty hours as possible, locked away in my room with only a Mountain Dew bottle as my companion. But it looked as though Brad had spent his entire summer with his girlfriend, Angela Miller.
"Luck-ieeee!" moaned Brett Daniels. "Carrie don't wanna do a damn thing."
Connor, my best friend, and I turned to each other, thrilled to have each other. We were probably the only juniors in all of Pennyten High who may have wanted to, but didn't plan to "bang" a girl.
Just then, Angela herself came over and sat on Brad's lap, as though he was the mall Santa. Her skirt flew up slightly as she sat, and Brad grinned. I, personally, thought that was kinda trashy.
"Hey sexy," Brad greeted, kissing her lips.
Angela smiled slyly. "Hey baby," he replied. And then turned over to a brunette girl who had followed her. "Guys, this is Jessie."
"Hey, Jessie," most of the guys greeted, realizing Jessie was almost as... big upstairs as Angela was.
"Jess, this is Andy, Brett, Jeremiah, Connor, Bryce and Shelly," Angela introduced all of us.
"Hey, guys," she greeted with a toothy smile, seeming to be aimed at me. I awkwardly looked away.
"Me and Jess gotta go," Angel said, turning towards Brad, as though she was asking for permission. "But I'll see YOU later,” she continued, kissing Brad once again and blinking. Brad only grinned and slapped her on the a_s as she and Jessie walked away.
"You got yourself a baaaaaaabe!" Jeremiah cried, high-fiving Brad.
"I do, I do," Brad said, patting himself on the back. "The chick thinks I love her, she sending me all these texts that say like "ily" and making that stupid little heart with the three in it. I'm like, as soon as I get you in the sack, I'm gone, babe. Unless she's good in the sack, then maybe I'll keep her for a while."
I rolled my eyes, making sure Brad couldn't see. Technically, Brad was my friend, but he could be a real a_shole.
"The other one was really into you, Shelly," Brad continued, turning towards me.
I shrugged. "Not into her."
"You're not into ANYONE," Bryce commented.
"Even Connor here has had a girlfriend," Jeremiah added, slapping Connor on the back. Connor rolled his eyes and smacked Jeremiah back.
"Are you queer?" Brad asked, and all the guys started laughing. I never really thought the gay/queer/homo joke was all that funny, mostly because I thought it was kind of offensive, but I didn't say so.
"No, I just don't want a girl easier than Mario Kart," I shot back at Brad, which got some laughs of it's own.
And even though the guys returned to their lunches, I knew deep down there was a lot more truth to that statement then I had let on.
A LOT.

In English class that afternoon, Mrs. Bambi assigned us books. Normally the smart, stuck-up kids got thick books about World War I while the dumb kids got easy books about friendship or whatever, while the middle kids, where I usually was, got realistic fictions books about being yourself or something. But today, Mrs. Bambi split the class up by boys and girls, and both books where by Judy Blume. The girls got "Are You There God? It's Me, Margret," while the boys got "Then Again, Maybe I Won't."
"The point of these books is not only to increase your literature skills, but teach you all that you aren't alone in the confused feelings you have about growing up," Mrs. Bambi informed us all, passing out books.
Everyone rolled their eyes, and no one more than me. If this woman thought a bunch of football-playing, Playboy-reading boys and gossipy, catty girls where going to share their feelings because of a middle-school book, then she was crazy. Then again, Mrs. Bambi has been teaching in this town longer than most of us have been in school, and she still has yet to understand any of this.
"So everyone, begin reading chapters 1 and 2 of your books and be ready for discussion by tomorrow," Mrs. Bambi told us. "I'm going to make a few copies, but I want all of you to be absorbed in your books by the time I get back."
I almost scoffed out loud. Yeah, RIGHT.
As I predicted, everyone tossed their books down and broke off into their groups. The girls broke into three or four different cliques, while the guys basically became two different groups with maybe one or two guys still reading.
I made my way over to Connor, who was talking to Brett and Jeremiah.
"Yeah, Brenda wants me," Jeremiah was saying, his signature cocky smile across his face. The gold "player" chain around his neck blinded me more than his annoying confidence about girls.
"She obviously hasn't seen your d_ick then, Mia," I told him, using his nickname. (My-a, not Mia) Connor and Brett burst into laughs, but Mia raised his eyebrow and his cocky smile grew bigger.
"Why, have you seen it?” he asked. "Checking me out in the locker room?"
Even I had to laugh that one off as Brenda, a girl from one of the many groups shuffled over to the four of us.
"Hey, Shelly?" she called my name.
A part of me was terrified she was about to ask me out. It would only bring drama because Jeremiah would be p_ssed, and I would have to turn Brenda down.
"Yeah?" I tried to appear as casual as possible.
"Did a girl move across the street from you?" she asked.
My eyebrows raised. "Not that I know of. But there were a few moving trucks this morning."
"Well, Sally heard from Jane who heard from Amber who heard from someone in Oklahoma that a girl is moving to Pennyten, and she's living across the street from you," Brenda babbled.
I didn't roll my eyes, but secretly longed to. Oh, so if Sally heard from Jane who heard from Amber who heard from some random girl in Oklahoma that we didn't even know the name of, it MUST be true.
"Lemme know, k?" Amy finished, and turned to Jeremiah before I could say another word.
"See ya," she said goodbye to the whole group, but the way she gazed at Jeremiah, it was a pretty safe bet she was only talking to him
Jeremiah grinned and nodded, playing the cool guy. "Bye."
As Brenda rushed away, the group she originally lefted from giggled and squealed upon her arrival, only certifying that Brenda liked Jeremiah. She tried to quiet her friends down, but from the blushing and grinning she was doing, it was clear that Brenda enjoyed all the attention.
"Told ya," Jeremiah said to us, his cocky smile once again across his face.
A few minutes later, someone shouted that Mrs. Bambi was coming, and we call rushed back to our seats, terrified of being the idiot who gave it away by not being in his or her seat when the teacher came in.
"Such GOOD kids," Mrs. Bambi praised us, setting her copies on the table. She was so oblivious to the obvious.
And as I pretended to read the troubles of some kid who was moving or whatever, all I could think about was the girl who was apparently moving across the street. I wondered if she was like all the other girls.
She wasn't.