It is 7:45 am and she is sitting at her desk with her head resting on her arms. First period study hall - great for studying, homework or sleeping when you have not properly roused yourself yet. Her hair is still damp from her shower and she has been awake less than an hour. Play rehearsal ran late last night and by the time she got home and finished her math homework it was almost one in the morning. Could Quadratic Equations be any more painfully tedious? She is tired, rarely getting to bed before the wee hours of the morning lately. She's barely making her 10:30 curfew on weeknights, either working or at play rehearsal most nights until after 10 pm or sometimes later (her parents will allow concessions with the rehearsals). Then it's time for studying and homework, gotta at least make a half-hearted attempt at keeping up that G.P.A.
And weekends, well she does her best to stay out until her 12:30 curfew. These are supposed to be the best years of her life, are they not? She must take advantage. And the less time spent at home with nagging parents who fight constantly and her younger brother and sister who seem intent on making their presence as annoying and intrusive as possible, the better. Her sister has even been wearing her underwear lately? Why on earth would you wear someone else's underwear? It's not like her sister doesn't have any underwear of her own, and seeing she's made a point to write her name in ALL of her underwear it's not like there's any confusion.
She sighs loudly and closes her eyes. She doesn't want to think about her sister right now. Nor does she want to do any further studying at the moment. She should sleep, but her mind will not let rest. Either that or it's the damn fluorescent lights that are keeping her awake. God, they're bright even when you have your eyes closed. There are girls whispering in back of her. She can hear her name and Amanda's being mentioned together. Great. She doesn't know Amanda, has no classes with Amanda, has no friends or extra-curricular activities in common with Amanda. She knows Amanda only by name and until recently, only knew that because her father is a teacher at the school. The only thing that now connects her to Amanda is Damien, Amanda's not-so-ex-boyfriend. You'd really think that would be yesterday's news by now. It must be a slow gossip week.
It was months ago. She had gone to a CYO dance with a friend and the night had gotten rather interesting. She's rather certain that Damien and another boy, Brian, had a bet going on her that night. The bet must have consisted of who was going to get further with her or something to that effect, because they both came onto her rather aggressively. Not that they were rude, but their constant attention, one asking her to dance and then the other, and then there had been their suspicious skulking in the corner together - she wasn't blind or stupid. They'd been something up. And she knew that she should have been insulted, that any other girl, a good girl anyway, would have confronted them on it. But she's never been like the other girls and rather enjoyed the attention and was curious to see how the night would unfold.
Brian had been a bit more determined and forceful with her than Damien, and at one point he had picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and carried her into a back room. They had kissed, but she refused to let him go any further, constantly pushing his roaming hands away from her breasts and ass. He was only the second boy she had kissed and she wasn't quite ready to allow him access to her body. And they were in the basement of church for God's sakes. Not that she was religious or anything, but somehow being felt up in a church still didn't sit right with her. He took it well enough, was playful in trying to coax her further. She found him amusing, really. He told her a joke and made her laugh while he kissed her. But she was well aware that he was not looking for anything more than to hook up with her just for the moment, which was fine by her. She was not looking for a boyfriend. She appreciated the direct and candid way he let her know exactly what he wanted from her and that he mostly respected her boundaries, if trying to push them a bit. And soon enough they were kicked out of the back room by a chaperon and Brian seemed to move on to greener pastures. There might after all, be a girl easier than her at the dance. Or perhaps his time was up and it was Damien's turn with her, because it was not long before he found her again. Damien had asked her to take a walk outside with him.
She did not really keep up with the latest gossip, who was dating whom. She had her small, but close group of friends and outside of them she could really care less what everyone else was doing. Besides, they all switched partners so often they might as well have been square dancing. She just didn't understand how you could cry real tears after the boy you'd been dating for a week broke up with you. Especially when he'd probably broken up with your friend to date you the week before. Wasn't the whole point of adolescence to date and kiss a bunch of people and gain some experience anyway? Hopefully they're not all screwing each other because that would be great breading ground for STD's. Maybe they're all sharing syphilis or gonorrhea. Yeah baby, feel the love. But she does not live so much under a rock not know that Damien is Amanda's boyfriend. "Aren't you going out with Amanda?" she had asked him.
And of course he had lied to her and said no, that they had broken up. This story had seemed plausible. He was at a dance sans said girlfriend. And really, would it have mattered if he had told her the truth? She honestly didn't know. He had leaned into her and kissed her slowly. Damien was a good kisser, his lips were soft and light, and for the first time she had not felt like she was being mauled in one way or another. Kissing him was like a tall, cool glass of lemonade. He tasted sweetly of Dentyne gum. His tongue in her mouth was teasing and left her wanting more, rather than almost gagging her. They had kissed for while and then had walked back to the dance. He had not tried to grope her. He had played the act of the gentleman better than any she had experienced before and then he had turned out to be the biggest liar and cad. She had not spoken to him again after that night. She had not expected him to date her, as she had been aware that she had been the pawn in some game. Obviously, his intentions could not have been honorable. But why act as if they were then? Why lie to her about Amanda? Why kiss her at a dance when Amanda would surely hear about it? She had been surprised to see him walking down the hall with his arm around Amanda the following week. Amanda had not confronted her, only glared at her whenever they passed one another in the hall. She couldn't blame her really, but perhaps her anger would be better directed at her boyfriend.
So to hear the girls whispering about Amanda and herself can only mean they're talking about her indiscretion with Damien. Yes, she is a slut. She has kissed another girl's boyfriend. Big deal. You'd think the term would be more aptly be directed at the girls who fucked their boyfriends and then switched partners every other week. How many guys do you'd think they'd slept with by the end of the school year? At least she was only kissing them. Sampling the market, in her mind. Not that she was frigid or disinterested in sex. No, she was very interested. But no one had seemed right to her yet. She detested the boys like Damien who put on an act with her. The type of boy that will profess his undying love to you on the first date, hoping it will get you to drop your panties only to dump you a week later telling you, "It's not you, it's him."
She had much more respect for boys like Brian, who played no games, were honest with you about what they wanted and promised to show you a good time. She really didn't doubt he could, but still there was something missing. The passion she had felt with that first kiss. Perhaps not passion driven by quite so much anger and hostility. And that was over anyway. Funny, how all it took was that one kiss for her to put him out of her mind almost completely. She had kissed him several times after that, but it had been rather anti-climactic. Wasn't it possible to find the honesty, the fun and the attraction all with one guy. She had yet to find it.
The bell rings and still she sits, not wanting to move ahead in the day. A blonde girl is now standing in front of her and her friend stands, books clutched to her chest, a few steps behind. They're the two that had been whispering about her. The blonde girl's face is pinched and the tag-a-long giggles nervously. They are both dressed in the latest fashions, their looks complete with mascara and earrings, matching shoes. She glances down at the black lace jumper and leggings she threw on from her floor this morning and momentarily wishes she were more pulled together. "You know," the blonde says, " Damien only kissed you on a bet. He really loves Amanda," she states. Her tone is superior and the words are weilded like a weapon. They are meant to draw blood.
The smile on her face is saccarine. "Is that so?" she asks rhetorically. Her eyebrows are raised in mock surprise. She rises and pulls her book bag over her shoulder, buying time to forumulate an appropriate retort. "Then what I'd really like to know is, what I'm really curious about is," she pauses dramatically, "Did he win?" she asks, simply.
Her sarcarsm and cavalier response has the effect she had desired and both girls are staring at her, mouths open. She starts to walk out of the room and then thinks better of it and turns back. "Tell Amanda that I really hope that things work out for her and Damien," she says innocently. "He's a really great kisser."
And this she knows will not help her reputation. It is her sharp tongue, dripping with sarcarsm that has all the girls hating her more than anything else. She doesn't understand them though, and so the hatred is almost cherished by her. And anyway, it's just so easy to make them squirm.
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