Mark My Words

19 | Fight The System

"On a Lamborghini. Insert me lathered up in baby oil out in the sun—"

"Okay, surefire way of getting skin cancer, but all right."

"Can you picture it?"

"Yes, I can picture it," Rosalie droned. "Back to what we were talking about."

"Ah, yes. I picked soccer because you said you still played," Joanna said. Rosalie wondered how much of Joanna's soul was sold to The Actual Devil to make her capable of saying such a thing so shamelessly. Rosalie slapped a hand over her face, covering her mouth in fear of squeaking out loud, because she sure as Hell was squeaking internally. "You're awfully quiet over there, Rosie."

"You—You can't just say shit like that," she cried, flinging her arm out. "What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?!"

"'Course not. If you die before our date I might actually lose my mind. So much is at stake...!"

"I'm sure there is," Rosalie laughed, shaking her head. "Are we still on for studying?"

"Yeah I just had to stop home and—Oops, gotta skedaddle! Lieutenant Colonel Spencer is on the lookout," she said, and the line cut off as she was greeting her father.

Studying with Joanna went much the same way as last time, though Rosalie became increasingly more and more aware of how fast her heart sped like it was readying for a kick of adrenaline. It did just this when the doorbell rang, and she raced to beat Khoshekh to the door. She paused at the door, touching the handle before preparing her insides for what would inevitably be a crash and burn of emotional and social exhaustion.

She pulled the door open, Khoshekh nestled under one arm. Her smile dropped at the sight of Joanna's eyes. The glasses were long gone after the match, and were replaced by faint red and purple bruising around the bridge of her nose.

"Hey," she said, pursing her lips together into a firm, straight line as Rosalie stared. The cut on the bridge of her nose was scabbed over. "I've got a few hours before the Lieutenant calls me back."

"Oh. Yeah, sure. How's your nose?" she asked, pulling the door open further and stepping aside. Joanna slid past her and toed her shoes off. Joanna shrugged off her jacket, flicking her tangled ginger curls over her shoulder.

"Fine," Joanna said, staring at one of the empty black frames on the wall. Rosalie's mother liked to call it minimalism.

Rosalie frowned and wasn't sure why.

***

Rosalie held up the hat up over Whitney's head. Whitney reached in with an eager look in Sami's direction, who decided to sit in at the Stud.Co. table during lunch that Thursday. Homecoming grade themes were entertainment for the entire school, so as Whitney unraveled the seniors' theme from the hat, Ray chanted to herself, "Please be Scott Pilgrim, please be Scott Pilgrim."

Whitney put the microphone to her lips, much to the excitement of the entire senior class scattered amongst the lunch room. "The Senior's theme for this year is... Scott Pilgrim Vs The World!"

"What?" Dylan whined from the football team, thumping his forehead onto the table.

Rosalie turned to Ray with an excited gasp. They clasped their hands together overhead, beaming at one another. The senior class whooped and hollered, and some people stood up on their benches and started dancing until the teachers came by to scold them. Amidst all the ruckus, Rosalie caught sight of Lennie trying desperately to get Jamie-Lee off the table, but the man was adamant on fighting the fact that he was suffering from a sprained ankle. He struck a pose on the top of the lunch table, and the soccer guys all roared with dramatic applause. "FIGHT THE SYSTEM!" someone cried, only to be told to knock it off by a teacher.