Born to Be a Nerd

Chapter One

"Can I get your fries?"

"Whatever." Priscilla pushed the whole tray towards MaryJane, only snatching up the strawberry milkshake.

MaryJane happily grabbed her tray and popped Priscilla's french fries in her mouth, chomping down with satisfaction.

Priscilla's lips curled, "You're disgusting."

MaryJane stuck out her tongue, showcasing half chewed remnants of food before putting it back in her mouth, smirking in triumph.

"You're disgusting, y'know that?"

"Then why are you —" her words were cut of by the sound of someone dumping their tray in the garbage, conveniently located right next to their table. Nothing like the hazardous smell of garbage bins to rouse your appetite. 

"What were you saying?"

"Forget it."

"We still on for tonight?"

"Yup, just bring your butt over to my house." MaryJane answered.

The girls sat in relative silence, the occasional sound of Priscilla slurping her milkshake or MaryJane eating her burger, disturbing the peace.

"How can you eat that food, it's probably illegal in twenty five states!" The food there was ghastly, to say the least.

MaryJane rolled her jade green eyes, "It isn't that bad. You just hate lunch in general."

"You're right." Priscilla shrugged.

"It's not that bad, really."

"Really? So you like the irritating sounds of people chewing and munching on food like cows? Or maybe it's the disgusting aroma emanating from the garbage bins next to us? Have you not noticed we are sitting in the loser section or that the food they serve is nothing short of 'dingy motel' standard?" The sarcasm leaking from her words was evident, even to MaryJane who rarely caught it.

Instead of being off-put by Priscillas response, MaryJane laughed at her best friends dramatic mini dialogue. She knew that although those reasons had something to do with Priscilla's intense dislike the cafeteria, they weren't the main cause.

"Yeah, it has nothing to do with a little someone." MaryJane cocked her head towards Delilah Rinsky. Wispy flames of red covered half of MaryJanes face but her smile was very evident before she straightened up.

Priscilla pursed her mouth, looking at Delilah. Her honey blonde hair shimmered under the industrial lights, the way actors in shampoo commercials only wished their hair would, it was inhuman, really. The southern belle had light brown eyes, akin to the color amber but not quite there — an odd mixture when coupled with her hair.

The group around her, consisting of mostly jocks and cheerleaders, leaned closer, clinging to every word that escaped from her pink lips, reminding Priscilla of the way her father, Ray, leaned closer to the TV when watching football — enthralled.

It was sickening,

In retro respect, Priscilla could almost admire the way they gave Delilah exactly what she wanted. Delilah, from what Priscilla has seen throughout the years, is what one would consider a natural born star. She viewed the whole world as her stage and everyone in it as her audience. She adored the attention, anyone on the outside could see that but people gave her it — her very presence demanded it.

"You're glaring at her so hard I'm surprised she's not six feet under." MaryJanes voice snapped Priscilla's attention towards her.

"Huh? Oh. I just don't get what's so special about her."