Shy Girls Eat Words

I arrived at my large house to find it empty. Surprise, surprise. As I said earlier, my parents were away on business. It didn’t bother me immensely that they were gone a lot. It just annoyed me that they were never home, as in at all.

It was something I couldn’t complain about, though. They worked and I got nice things. Even if I would rather trade it all in for a family dinner every night, we all want what we can’t have, right?

I walked into my large room. It was a metallic purple, a favorite color of mine. The bed spread was the same color and the floors were white.

I set my bag down and went into my walk-in closet to change. I guessed I could be popular if I wanted to. I had the assets. Money was not a problem. And I had been told I had a pretty face before. My breasts were a decent enough size to attract guys attention if I decided to wear a skimpy tank top. I was thin because I never really had much of an appetite. I guessed I could be popular, but I’d just never had the desire. I didn’t crave attention.

I pushed my square-framed glasses up my nose carefully as I walked into my bathroom. I stared myself in the mirror. I looked into my metallic blue eyes. They were set in a good position on my pale face. I had a long nose with a heart shape face, but it all worked for me. My hair was kind of straw. It was flat and dull, almost yellow.

I sighed and brushed through it, still not feeling that desire of popularity. I went into my room to get started on my homework.

***

I sat patiently in first period. Arizona Greene was next to me. He was laughing with his friends while a slutty girl behind him begged for attention. She was sticking out her chest which looked very much out of place on her petite frame.

I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temples while she continued to compliment the already egotistical god in her whiny baby voice. This girl was trying way too hard. Her chest was practically in his face and she was obviously flirting major with him.

“Arizona, how do you get so strong? My God!” She rubbed his arm.

“It’s just a natural thing.”

I scoffed and chuckled.

Arizona looked at me from the corner of his eye.

I began to write something down in my planner as my face held amusement.

“You got a comment, nerd?” Arizona asked.

“No,” I muttered. I blushed and began to scribble my comeback on my paper.

That’s what I did. It was a peculiar thing I had started in middle school. Since I didn’t have any nerve to say my comebacks, I wrote them down in a journal. The comeback that time insulted his grammar.

He laughed. “Whatever, nerd.”

The popular girl cackled happily.

Popular girls eat nothing. Shy girls eat their words.

The teacher walked in and immediately began passing out tests. She laid mine down on my desk. The one hundred stood out in bold red pen. I smiled. It was a fairly simple test. The teacher had simply been making sure we knew our parts of a sentence which I sure did.

Arizona peered over at my desk. He chuckled. “Nerd.”

I looked as his test was dropped. He had a sixty-four.

I gave him a look and muttered, “Idiot.”

He looked at me self-consciously. This was strange because Arizona was never self-conscious. He was very secure, at all times. What was up with him?

***

I went into the bathroom at lunch time. As I walked in, I saw Jess.

Jess was your average everyday – to put it simply – slut. She had overdone blonde hair. She had a spray tan and wore so much foundation that it was surprising she didn’t melt in the rain. Her dull brown eyes were played up with mascara, eyeliner, and obnoxious green eye shadow. She was currently wearing a low-cut, lime green tank top with a blouse that was wide open over it. For bottoms, she had what was arguably the world’s shortest black mini-skirt. Her shoes were tall as she strived to reach model height.

She was reapplying her ridiculously red lipstick as I strode over to the mirror.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the nerd,” she asked in her squeaky soprano.

I stayed quiet ignoring her.

“Hey bitch, I’m talking to you.”

I was still quiet.

“Whore!” She grabbed my shoulder.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

“Aw…is the little virgin girl frightened?”

“No.”

She cackled. “How long do you think you’ll be virgin, prude? Are you saving it for Jesus? Or are you just too afraid to admit that you just can’t get a guy to bang you?”

I fought the tears inevitably tried to make their way into my metallic eyes. She smirked with satisfaction, but her vicious eyes said that she wasn’t quite done harassing me. Why couldn’t I just learn to stand up for myself? I was frozen solid to the ground. There was no hope for me in defending myself.

“Have you ever even had a boyfriend?” she asked.

I didn’t answer.

“I asked you a question, bitch!” she said.

“No,” I murmured.

She smiled devilishly. “I knew it. Wait until the girls find out what I found? Thanks, nun.”

She strutted out of the bathroom, swaying her hips more then necessary.

The tears flowed over. I ran into the stall and began pouring my eyes out.

I hated people. That was the only conclusion to my condition. Everyone I had ever known was two-faced. I wished I could just disappear and become a wall. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with people.

I began punching the stall. I bottled up my emotions. Constantly. I had no confident. There was no one in this world I could ever go to. I was alone. Once alone, always alone. So, I figured, might as well just suck it up and get used to it. That was going to be the rest of my life.

I was in there for roughly fifteen minutes before my eyes finally stopped releasing tears. I opened the door and splashed water on my blotchy face. I grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and gently pressed it to my hot skin. My eyes were swollen and red. I sniffed.

Some girls were just plain evil.

I walked out of the bathroom to the lunch room. I didn’t bother getting any food. My appetite had disappeared. I sat down at my usual lonely table. The sluts all cackled as I looked toward them. I figured Jess had spilt her latest news by now.

As much as I hated these girls, I was always curious as to what it was like to be them. They had looks that were perfectly manicured to make them look appealing to boys. I watched the jocks all give them side stares. There eyes did what I had classified as the triangle stare. First they look at one breast, then the other, then their face. It was a typical guy thing. They never wanted a girl for their brain, only their bodies.

The sluts also had money courtesy of their parents. They actually wanted to use this cash to provide themselves with self-fulfillment. They love to buy nice things and show them off. It was like in some sort of code they had.

They had self-esteem that let them flaunt it without feeling like the whores they really were. They were practically falling out of their clothing. Their faces looked like they had just smeared on entire tubes of cosmetics that morning. Even the ways that sat were slutty. It was as if they had all been teaching themselves these things since they were kids.

Most importantly, though, they had power. They had power over their parents. They had power of boys. They also had power over the entire “nerd” population. They knew how to intimidate, to make us feel inferior. These girls were a special breed. They were something I always wondered what it would be like.

Would I even make a good slut? Probably not.