Hey, :D thanks for reading!
The water is way too hot when I stick my hands in it, so I hiss and jerk away, shaking the heat from my fingers. I’m warm enough from my anger, if my internal thermostat rose anymore I’d probably die of heatstroke.
I turn knob to the middle, so it’d be cooler. Then I shove my arm under the lukewarm spray and start wiping off the pudding.
Ugh! I think after I’d glanced up in the mirror. All over my face! I look like I just shoved my face in a puddle of fudging mud! My glasses were smudged over with brown nastiness, the pudding was deeply in my left ear (cuz he gave me a fucking wet willy with it!), it was plastered in my hairline, and even on the collar of my green polo.
God, Sebastian’s the kind of person I wanted to hug.
With my hands.
Around his throat.
I remove my glasses and cup my hands under the spray, fuming and imagining the things I’d do to Sebastian if he wasn’t so freakishly large and ten times stronger than me. I’d get a bowl full of nasty pudding and shove his face in it! Hell I’d drown him in it!
I lifted my hands to my face and splashed it across my skin. I did a couple more times, wiping sludge away. I heard the door open, heard girly voices. Two girls came around the little corner and then stopped when they saw me. My back was to them, but I was eyeballing them in the mirror. Slowly, I turned my head and glared at them over my shoulder with a look so dark it said go ahead and enter bee-yotches.
The two girls smartly left the bathroom.
I continue washing away slime, and was suddenly assaulted by the memory of Sebastian’s menacing words to me:
‘I don’t like you, psycho. And since you’ve been a bitch to me, I’m gonna be a bitch to you, and help Karma bite you back in the ass. Hard.’
I literally almost flinched as I remembered the steel in his voice, how he’d snapped out the words ‘bite’ and ‘hard’. He’d been pretty damn angry. I thought about what he’d said as I scrubbed.
1. He didn’t like me. Surprise surprise. Like I didn’t know that already? 2. I was a bitch to him. Psh, hardly! I was the one who simply stated my requests! He just pushed me too far. 3. He’s going to be a bitch to me. Maybe I should have mentioned that it’s been a repeated occurrence lately. 4. He’s going to help Karma bite me back in the ass. Hard. I’ve done nothing for karma to punish me for! He’s the one who’s started everything! And as for the ass thing, if he so much as gets within three feet of my butt I swear I’ll shove –
I heard the door open and glared into the mirror, watching the spot where I knew someone would come in. A small figure slowly stepped around the corner, and I sighed.
Scarlett.
Her soft rain gray-green eyes met mine in the mirror, and she surprised me by giving me a little scowl. I relaxed my expression and so did she. Jeez. Didn’t know she could even do that. It was odd to see such a firm look on her gentle face.
“Oh, Clarisse,” She muttered quietly, and then marched up to me. She grabbed a paper towel and then wetted it in the sink. Then she handed it to me. “You’re just getting your shirt more wet. Wipe it off with the towel,” I could hear that she wanted to end her sentence with some sarcastic word like dumbass or genius but she bit her tongue. Damn her goodness, it really makes me seem like the Geek from Hell.
I snatch it from her hand and then started scrubbing my face. “Thanks.”
She crosses her arms and frowns at me. “How are you?” And it wasn’t the natural, everyday hey-how-are-ya questions. She was questioning my feelings. Again.
“Fine.” I mumbled.
Her expression nuanced to annoyance and her eyebrow quirked. “Right,”
I blinked at her, feeling a little more than agitated. Where did she get off with the attitude? “Exactly.” I quipped back. The paper towel was flaking because it was so drenched and I’d been scrubbing so hard. I kept going though.
Scarlett’s jaw clenched. “Clarisse, just get off your pedestal for awhile and talk to me would you?” Her tone had been sharp, and had artfully pierced me.
Damn. I was pissed now. I whipped the paper towel into the sink. Telling me to get off my pedestal was a metaphor for ‘stop being a superior bitch and actually let out your feelings you asswipe’. It stung more because I knew it was true too, that I was just avoiding talking about it too anyone else. Ooo man, Scarlett was inches away from being told off, but a second before I stopped myself. She’s just being a friend, Clarisse. Probably your only one, so you might as well keep her. I thought. And yes, the damn Inner Voice was right.
Damn logical consciences.
To keep myself from telling her to get out, I angrily said the first question that came to mind. “Why the hell were you named Scarlett?”
Scarlett blinked at me and seemed to relax, but still confused. She must’ve been readying herself for the nuclear explosion that usually happens when I’m pissed and I open my mouth. “Huh?” was her response.
I exhaled through my nose and closed my eyes. “Why were you named Scarlett, Scarlett?” I paused but spoke before she could. “It doesn’t match you at all. People think ‘Scarlett’ and they think some sexy, vivacious redhead with a clever mind and temper. Not small, sweet, calm and too god damned smart for their own good.”
She was quiet for a while, and I eventually looked over. I’ve always wondered this but never asked, and thought it was a cover for my raging anger, I’m glad I asked. I’m curious.
“My dad’s favorite color,” She said, and I opened my eyes to stare at her. She was staring off into space with this little smile on her face.
I couldn’t hold off my snort. “Your dad’s favorite color? That’s…yeah I don’t even know what to say to that.”
She just smiled a little wider. “My older sisters’ names are Rose and Ruby. He liked anything red, and wanted all the kids to have red names. My mom agreed. Then came Poppy, and then Marigold. And then, when we finally got Crimson, and at first mom was gonna name him James after dad, but she said it didn’t feel right. Crimson James Bilger. My poor little brother.”
I could only stare at Scarlett in shock. I didn’t even know what to feel, but the shame I felt for throwing that diss about the names almost made me sick to my stomach. Her father was dead. I’d never known that. Five kids left alone. Granted, the two oldest were out of the house and Scarlett would soon be, but the youngest, three…
Swallowing, I said to Scarlett, “So, um, when…?” I’m very obviously not good at the whole sentimental thing.
She just smiled, understanding. “Four years ago. A couple months before Crimson.”
Four years. She’d have been an eighth grader. Oh God, I feel so horrible, but what the hell can I say? I utterly suck at apologies and understanding and crap. “Um, how come…?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Scarlett glanced down at first but then look up and straight into my eyes as she answered. “Pancreatic cancer. He’d been fighting it for a few years.”
I could feel the awkwardness settle like a very heavy rock on my shoulders and back. I’m seriously not good at these situations. Like, if someone cries, I will leave, because it only makes me feel uncomfortable and stupid and useless. I reached out and barely patted her shoulder. “Sorry.” I muttered.
Scarlett suddenly laughed. “Thanks Clarisse, its fine, really.” She picked up my glasses from the side of the sink. “Better start on these before it gets caked on.”
I gladly welcomed the change of subject, and was also surprised that my anger was completely gone. I suppose talking about loosing a father would do that.
As I wiped at my glasses, Scarlett waited awhile. I, of course, said nothing. Though I wasn’t mad at her anymore, I saw little point in relaying what had happened. Like I wanted to live through it again? Yeah, no thanks.
“Clarisse, just tell me what happened.” Though it was a command, her voice was back to being quiet and reasonable. I grunted in frustration but repeated the whole damn thing, from his pencil ticking to the pudding fight. After I was finished, Scarlett just stared at me like a kid who just learned where babies came from.
“Cl-Clarisse!” She spluttered. It was obvious how flabbergasted she was. “You are insane!”
“You ever heard of the old saying? ‘I don’t suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it-” Scarlett interrupted me, which proved how truly agitated she was.
“You said all of those things to Sebastian MacCrain! You slapped him! And you’ve even let him set some sort of vendetta against you!”
I rubbed the last bit of pudding from my glasses and then squinted through them. “I do believe I slapped him twice.”
Scarlette groaned. “Whatever. But this is Sebastian MacCrain we’re talking about here. The best linebacker we’ve ever had. I don’t think you want to mess with him.”
Again, I snorted. “Yes, Scarlett, I know who he is. I’ve had to unfortunately hear everything about him since he’s been a freshman. But, honestly, I don’t care. Yes, maybe he’s big, but one of my favorite old adage’s is ‘The bigger they are, the harder they fall’. Besides, I doubt his attention spand’s long enough to hold out a decent grudge anyways.”
I glance and the mirror after my mini speech and inwardly groan. There’s still pudding all over my shirt and in my hair. Ugh, damn that sick bastard to hell, preferably the room where he’s dunked in pudding to death. Scarlett looked too.
“I have my PE t-shirt if you want. It hasn’t been washed in a while, but…”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I have another shirt.” I am always prepared.
She stood beside me and started plucking at the dried pudding in my hair. “I don’t know what to do about his, unless you run to the gym and stick your head in the shower quick. And it’d have to be fast, lunch hour’s probably done in like ten minutes.”
I glared at the pudding in my hair, hoping it’d get scared and go away. No such luck. I sighed. “Well, if I do have some portable shampoos, and if you can get me a towel-”
Someone walked around the corner and when I saw who it was I literally had to bite my tongue to keep from saying ‘GET OUT NOW!!!’ But, I should have known, Nyssa Randy and her little flock skanky canaries always came to this bathroom after they finished lunch (if you can call it that, since I’m sure none of them eat more than three forkfuls of salad anyhow). Nyssa is very pretty, and so are her friends, but they’re all hoes and sluts who blow for show as I say.
Nyssa pinched her nose when she saw Scarlett and me. She was particularly directing her frosty eyes at me, and I guess it’s because of what I did to her bed buddy, Sebastian. She tossed her fakely colored brown hair back from her shoulder and raised a way-to-plucked eyebrow.
Rather than skittering away like I’m sure she expected me too, I met her icy glare with a heated one of my own, and I can proudly say that I’m sure I saw her take a step back. That’s right, back down, skanky bee-yotch.
“Hey, you,” Sabrina Wommry, 2nd Bitch in Command, said to me, “the crazy girl bathroom’s on the other side of the school.” Nyssa and the other two cronies cackled like stoned ravens.
Scarlett frowned deeply, but I kept my annoyed expression in place and said, “Hey, you, if you were too stupid to read, the sign on the door said ‘No Dumb Bitches’.”
Sabrina gasped, and so did Nyssa and the other two. I don’t know their names. I’ll name them Dumb Slut 1 and Dumb Slut 2. While Sabrina was stammering for a retort, Nyssa snapped:
“Shut your mouth you ugly little freak! I’d rather be dumb and pretty than smart and ugly!”
I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. Completely red-faced, Nyssa demanded why I was laughing at her. “Because you just admitted to being stupid! That proves just how stupid you are!” And then kept laughing. It isn’t that funny, but it’s nice to see Nyssa’s face turn from red to purple. I was hoping for blue so she’d pass out.
“Well you didn’t deny to being ugly!” Dumb Slut 2 said, and then they all laughed again like it was the funniest thing in the world.
“Yeah, if by ugly, you mean amazing,” I said smoothly, remembering when Sebastian had used the same type of retort on me. It makes absolutely no sense but annoys people nonetheless, so I like it.
“Not even close,” Nyssa said, glowering at me. “Now get out, freak, your presence isn’t wanted here.”
“You think I want to be so close to someone as stupid as you? Of course not! The stupidity is so high in here because you’re all so freaking dumb that I’m afraid it’s contagious.” I said, and then shut off the water faucet I just realized has been running this whole time. I started walking towards the exit, Scarlett beside me. Sabrina and Dumb Sluts 1 and 2 were red in the face and floundering for something to say back, but Nyssa was just giving me a dark stare. As I passed her, she stopped me.
“I have some advice. Perfect for someone like you.” She was smiling cynically at me. I wanted to wipe that smile off with a hammer. “What I have to say is this:
‘Feel power for one hour and loose it like an autumn flower.’ I’m sure you don’t need me to explain its meaning, you knowing everything and all,” Her voice was so sarcastically sweet I wanted to break her jaw so she couldn’t talk anymore!
“So, just listen to my little saying will you? And keep in mind, someone like you should just stick to the grassy meadows and leave the flowery gardens to me.”
I understood. Her saying meant that anything like power is only fleeting, not permanent. And her second little jibe at me was telling me to back down and let her keep what she wanted.
Yeaaaaaaahhh, no.
I stepped up close to Nyssa (we’re about the same height) and gave her an openly sarcastic and mean smile. “I’ve got my own advice for you, Nyssa,” I said.
Her expression darkened again, but I spoke before she could.
“Just to tell you, life is not a garden. You don’t need to be a ho.”
And then I breezed passed her with her completely shocked and angry look on her face. Oooo, how priceless!! Hahaha!
As Scarlett and I headed to my locker, she said to me, “Oh my gosh, Clarisse…”
I laughed. “I know, right? Ohh, her face!”
***
I’m sitting in my Economic’s class, my hair wet and dripping down my clean, yellow polo. Stupid Coach Mrag, catching Scarlett and I in the locker room and kicking us out. I’d still had conditioner in! But I rubbed out most of it, but it was still dripping and now my hair was cold.
For the last ten minutes I’ve thinking over Nyssa Randy. It had surprised me how quickly she’d gone from dumb comebacks to such a calculated warning. She must play stupid with her friends and other people, to hide how smart she is. She actually concerned me a little bit. Sebastian? Psh, no. He probably only said what he said trying to be manly and tough.
The teacher, Mr. Grover, began writing on the marker board and ordered us to copy down what he’d written. I lazily started to take my notebook out, and just as I began writing, a little balled up piece of paper landed on my desk out of nowhere.
I jumped and almost squealed but didn’t. I snatched the paper before Mr. Grover turned around and carefully opened it. It read:
Dear Psycho,
I’d ask how you are, but I really don’t give a damn. Just saying. Anyhoo, I hope your hair frizzes out and you know that I can see your red bra through the wet stain on your shit.
Bye bye ;)
And that was it. No signature or initials. But I didn’t need that to know who had written it. No one else called me Psycho, and I recognized the handwriting. My face burned red with embarrassment and anger because he couldn’t be lying about the shirt thing (because my bra is indeed red).
My temper flared up and I imagined strangling Sebastian.
Ooo, that bastard better run fast.
Vote and comment and message if ya want too :))