The STD Trace

15. Attack of the Virgins. They Go HAM!

She got into the car and hummed to herself, applying lip gloss. The girl was legit serious, she really believes that she was super freaking cute right now. Wow, my mind has just been screwed over in every position possible that I haven’t even tried with Winston yet. I turned around.

“Where are you going?”

“To school?” She raised an eyebrow as if I were being a complete idiot or something.

I laughed. “Not like that I hope.”

“Hannah, everyone isn’t a loser at school like you, okay? I lead the Fab Five, I have to look good.  Whatever I do, everyone else does.”

“The Fab Five…” I busted out laughing. “What is this, the old T-Mobile plan? You’re so freaking ugly right now—I’d be ashamed to call you my sister. Look, if people do whatever you do, you could not wear make-up and ditch the slutty clothes and people would follow you.”

“But that’s not cute.”

“Yes it is!”

“No, it’s really not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.” She crossed her arms.

“Is too!”

“It’s not.”

“Is freaking too.”

“Is freaking not.”

I glared at her and she glared back. “Look, Maggie, you’re going to look old by the time you are twenty five. Heavy make-up speeds up the process.”

“Boo hoo.” She rolled her eyes.

I thought about retaliating but then changed my mind, putting the car into drive and taking off for her middle school. That was another thing—she went to freaking Ousley Jr. High. What the hell was wrong with her? I think when I went to middle school—they had a dress code there. I swear I had a dress code. Schools were lenient these days I guess. I parked and she got out the car.

“I really hope you aren’t late this time.” She slammed my car door and stopped at the front, her little clique of friends rushing over, just as trashy as her.

I rolled my eyes, ready to back out and leave when a boy that reminded me so much of Winston it was crazy walked by and latched eyes with Maggie. She blushed, running her hands through her hair and he smiled, continuing on his way. He was cute, wearing a nice sweater, skinny jeans, had a head full of blonde hair and a pair of glasses. All in all, he was the younger version of Winston practically. Her friends asked her what she was looking at and I know she lied or made up some stupid excuse. I know she would never admit to liking a guy like that. Maybe that was my meal ticket into Maggie’s lost soul.

I headed for school, my mind elsewhere. Why was Maggie so mean anyways? Why was she such a bitch? I get at school she keeps up her reputation, but at home there was no need for her to be so horrible. Whatever, I’ll start project Maggie when I pick her up from school later. I parked in my familiar parking spot by the theater room and headed inside.

“Screw hoes!”

“Screw sluts!”

“Virgins rule!”

“Virgins are the best!”

Voices were shouting, signs in the air reflecting the message, and I froze. Violet ran up to me, her camera slung around her neck.

“Dude, these bitches are going HAM!” She pulled her camera around and snapped a few shots of the protesting students.

“What’s the problem?” I whispered.