This Needle is Just too Sharp

Chapter Two - Radar

I tapped my foot along with the rhythm of the song that blared through my ear-phones. Mrs Gumble was so kind to let me drown out the constant high-pitched giggling coming from the table next to mine. Some students complained, saying it was favouritism that I was permitted to listen to music during lesson, however, they were ignorant to the fact that they had friends in this class- I was on my own. I guess you could say I have friends in high places.

As sickening as it was, I had to force myself to not look left, whatever I do. Franny was shoving her cell in her “friends” faces, showing them the raunchy texts exchanged between her and God-knows who.  I learnt from my mistakes the last time I turned around, searching for my pencil, there, in all its ghastly-pixelated glory, was the sentence that put a blush, not just on my cheeks, but on my entire body. I shit you not; I could see my arms turning red. And everyone found this amusing. Even Georgina, when she heard about it.

I won’t repeat the sentence, but I’ll tell you now… it involved two words that oozed cringe-worthy things.

Moist and tight.

Now, I’m not one to turn my nose up at anyone who decides to have sex, but seriously. Not only is that the most unappealing “sext” I have ever seen, but showing it to people? At least show something that doesn’t spell D-I-R-T-Y-O-L-D-M-A-N. What boy would use the word moist? I hope none that attend this school, for good-ness sake.

Art ended, finally, and as always I was the first out the door, making a B-turn for my locker.

“Can you believe Clinton? We’ve been back a week and he’s impregnated some slut off the Volley Ball team?!”

I sighed. This had been Georgina’s topic of discussion since everyone found out Mandy Matchouchi was pregnant… which was four days ago.  “Look, I just think you should move on. He’s clearly not worth it, and plus, maybe it’s time for you to focus of becoming infatuated with someone new…some one that doesn’t target the Chess Club every day,”

“But he was so hot!”

“Was?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The thought of him being a father hardly makes me want to ravish him,”

Laughing, I nodded over to Franny’s locker, where she stood, applying her fifth layer of foundation. “Unlike some, eh’” I murmured.

“Please just don’t even compare me to that trollop,” said Georgina nonchalantly whilst filing her nails.

I closed my locker door and started down the hall with Georgina when all of a sudden she was yanked back by her hair, and sent sprawling across the floor in the middle of a sea of people. As if that wasn’t shock enough, a foot collided with her side, shoving her body powerfully with a loud crunch.

“Next time you want to call my sister a slut, think twice!” Shouted an unfamiliar face before she stormed off into the crowed. Dropping to my knees, I rolled Georgina over onto her back and cradled her face in my hands. A pool of blood was leaking from the gash at the back of her head, sending the students into a panic, including myself.

“Someone get the nurse!” I screamed, lightly tapping Georgina’s cheeks to see if she’d open her eyes.  Before I could fight back, I was pulled away by two strong hands, and the school nurse and principle were lifting her unconscious body and taking her to the medical room.

*

Three times I had walked by the medical room, and three times I had been told to go away. Georgina had come around, but was under inspection by the nurse and being interrogated by the cops.

There was nothing I could do apparently and I just had to try and get on with my day. Easier said than done when you best friend was out cold from being attacked by an unknown creature. I would say people were whispering about the incident, but they weren’t. The school was going absolutely bonkers about what had happened, yelling, replaying the scene, and even picking sides. That was school for you.

Lunch rolled by and Georgina had finally been sent home and been given the week off of school. It felt weird not having her at school. She was one of those girls that detested school, yet attended every day so she never missed gossip and the exciting things that happened rarely. I was one of those who attended school for the good grades and possibly decent future, shocker, right?

I high-tailed it for the lunch line, reading the scruffy writing on the menu of shit that had on today.

-          Chicken Burger and/or vegetarian alternative

-          Hot Dogs and/or vegetarian alternative.

-          Mac & Cheese

-          Peperoni Pizza and/or vegetarian alternative (Hawaiian without the ham) 

Pudding:

-          Lemon Sponge with honey

Now, for a high school the food was decent. I guess all that hoo-ha about “slops” was just stereo-typical film makers. I doubt a prestigious high school would serve their pupils a pile of brown or grey muck. Or, maybe there’s no stereo-typing involved and it’s just because the most elite families in this town put thousands into this school every couple of months. Yeah, that could be it.

It was my turn to choose what to have for lunch, so as I slid my tray along the counter-top, avoiding eye-contact with the lunch lady and her hideous mole, I scooped up a slice of peperoni pizza and a hot dog, putting them on my plate.

“A girl with an appetite,”

I jumped as I turned to the culprit of the voice. Standing next to me, also getting his lunch was no other than Logan Ellis. Son of Miriam and David Ellis- founders of TORRENCE, the firm that made millions in their first month of opening, the firm that fired my father and caused my Mom to walk out on us. 

“I hope you’re not calling me fat,” I said sharply, placing the bowl of sponge pudding onto my tray and selecting a can of Appletizer.

Logan laughed. “I think a healthy appetite on a girl is hot,” he whispered seductively. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Brenda,” I lied absentmindedly as I tried unhooking my thick, silver, bracelet from the metal shelving cabinet. Logan saw my issue and left his tray where it was to come and help me. I panicked, trying to shove him away and tell him to back off; however, that plan flew out the window when he yanked the bracelet from the shelf, sending my silver chain flying across the floor of the cafeteria.

Logan stood with his eyes fixated on my wrist. I yanked my sleeve down as far as I could until it covered the large purple-blue bruise of a handprint that was on my wrist. Without saying a word, or looking him in the eyes, I grabbed my tray and left for the exit of the school, until I was safely alone on a bench outside.