The Average Lives of Above Average Teens

Chapter Four - Bad Decour and Rules

“I mean, I personally don’t see it,” Trixie said, stuffing another fry into her already-full mouth. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment and then swallowed. “He’s good-looking, yeah, but he’s an ass from what I hear.”

                “He is an ass,” Charlotte confirmed. “He’s in my writing class and he grabbed my ass when I walked by his desk.”

                “Jerk!”

                “It’s okay. I punched him.”

                “Nice,” Trixie giggled.

                They were in the on-campus café which was decorated like a fifties diner, with tall tables, red barstools, checkered floors, and neon lights. It was cheesy, Charlotte decided, but kind of charming all the same. They were gossiping (an action Charlotte rarely took part in) over a plate of greasy fries and scouting boys, and it was Alex Myer that had fallen victim to their current conversation topic as they snuck glances at him from over the heads of other students.

                “Wait, so that’s where he got the black eye,” Trixie said suddenly. “I heard him telling some other boys that he beat up a Freshman.”

                Charlotte snorted and immediately began choking on her current bite of fry. Trixie began to pound her on the back, anxiously offering her sips of Diet Coke between coughs.

                “Man,” Charlotte gasped, tears swimming in her eyes, “maybe this is karma!’

                “No, him getting punched was karma,” Trixie said firmly, turning her attention over to Alex once more as Charlotte drew in deep, wheezing breaths. “Are you okay?”

                “Not at all,” Charlotte managed to say. They looked at each other for a moment and busted out laughing.

                “So you’re in writing class?” Trixie said once they’d calmed down. “Me too.”

                “Really?”

                “Yeah, and I think it might be my talent!” Trixie said happily. “Miss Dixon called my short story ‘interesting.’ I was pleased, she looked pretty enlightened.”

                “Oh, well, good for you.” Charlotte another fry and took caution in chewing it thoroughly before she swallowed. She was reaching for her Sprite when Trixie frantically nudged her arm.

                “What?”

                “You see that girl over there?” Trixie asked, pointing discreetly (or at least, she thought she was being discreet) to a petite teen roughly their age with hair blonder than Trixie’s, which was dyed with two streaks on either side of her face, one of black and the other of hot pink.

                “Yeah, what about her?”

                “That’s Roxanne Palmer, she’s one of our housemates. I talked to her this morning. She seems pretty cool. I heard she throws a mean party.”

                “Huh, I didn’t meet any housemates yet.”

                “Well, not surprisingly, considering the time you get out of bed.”

                “Ha, ha. Did you meet any others?”

                “Only three. The other room was completely empty, no one knows why.”