Status: Finished.
Amazing, Because It Is.
A Little Lower Than the Angels, You Came to Me.
Death - the last sleep? No, the final awakening. - Walter Scott.
“So, do you like it here so far?” my new “friend”, Lauren, chirped interestedly, hooking a strand of bleach blonde hair behind her ear as she nibbled on the wilted leaves of a romaine salad. Like it was really necessary to nibble a salad. I never had understood the trend of skinny girls trying to get even skinnier.
I shrugged in nonchalance, not indifference, having quickly taken to watching the student body’s interactions with each other. It was like any other high-school. “It’s not that different.”
Well, I mean, aside from the pearly white ghost who was trying valiantly to ‘help’ me eat my plate of fries, succeeding only in making me look like I was dropping fries periodically into my lap, without ever touching them. That was a little different, I had to admit.
“That’s cool,” another of my “terrific” new allies, Jen, sighed, her voice croaking slightly. That was just how she talked, actually, and not a direct reflection on how unamused she was by me. Although I wouldn’t have blamed her. I wasn’t that interesting or interested in them and their showy clique. Yeah, they were popular. Who the hell knew what they wanted with me.
“These girls are such bitches!” Alex exploded suddenly, soaring to his feet, towering over the lunch room, on top of the round lunch table with one of his sneakers in my Chinet plate of fries, scowling down at me. “You have no idea how much I hated them. Gosh, do you even pay attention to the things I’m telling you, Brooke? I’ve been here, done this, you know.”
He completed his fevered rant around the time the final component of the trio, Morgan, asked me a question, which I happened to miss, due to my true inability to focus on multiple things at once, especially when one of the things was a radiant, shouting boy.
“Huh?” I inquired brilliantly, my gaze straying from Alex’s unnerving one, which felt heavy as lead.
“Oh, precious,” she laughed with a hint of true condescendence, tilting her head to the side and pouting, as if she pitied me. “I asked if you had met my boyfriend, Collin, yet,” her question was tainted with a certain venomous lilt that warned me about as strongly as it could that she had indeed seen me walking with him and was ready to sink her bubblegum pink nails into my scalp if I didn’t back off.
“Oh, yeah! I think he walked me to my first class,” I nodded hurriedly, gathering every scrap of spare energy I had to inflect some enthusiasm through my words. It was simply exhausting, trying so hard to sound happy. “He told me all about you.”
“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” Alex crowed obnoxiously, raising his voice to the fluorescent lighted ceiling. “That’s my bull shit meter, in case you were wondering.”
I turned to give Alex the most disparaging glare I could manage, without looking too obvious. As we conducted an intense staring contest with each other, I was completely oblivious to the rest of the lunch room, who were all turning none-too-discreetly to look at something else. Or someone. Someones – final answer.
“What are you looking at? Oh, those are the Mayhem twins. Don’t even ask,” Morgan scoffed, her eyes rolling a complete 360 ceilingward before returning to her impeccable, bright pink nail polish.
Confused to the umpteenth power, I followed Jen’s dull, expressionless gaze to two girls who had literally garnered the attention of everyone in the lunch room. They strutted hand in hand together, laughing in an ever so exclusive tenor that made you wonder what or who they were talking about. They were polar opposites, one with stick straight dark brown hair that fell past her shoulders, and one with platinum blonde tresses that were haphazardly wavy.
“Who?” I pressed unintelligently, unable to quell my curiosity, which I now knew was nothing unusual.
“They’ll both answer to Mayhem, but the brunette is Sanchez and the blonde is Dallas,” Jen sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in fabricated disinterest, torturing her Boca burger to the point that it simply looked like chicken feed.
I wasn’t going to lie, they intrigued me.
So much so that I barely noticed them approaching our table until they were looming right above me, sporting identical wry grins.
“So you’re the new girl everyone’s talking about,” Sanchez began, arching an eyebrow playfully, flashing a pair of pointy looking incisors. No more pointy than was normal, but she wielded them like a vampire, causing her grin to look more like a grimace.
I shrugged nonchalantly. I guess I was, although I wasn’t really aware that anyone was talking about me. Honestly, I wasn’t really aware that there was much to talk about.
“And you’re hanging out with these biscuits?” Dallas laughed, tossing back her mane of blonde hair, her voice akin to wind chimes.
“Come on, we’ll rescue you,” Sanchez snorted, holding out her spare hand, wiggling her chunky ring adorned fingers, urging me to complete the gesture.
“Son of a bitch…,” Alex groaned bestially, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly and expelling a monstrous sigh.
I gauged Morgan, Jen, and Lauren’s expressions. Their eyebrows were raised, their features suddenly turned fierce. Apparently, I would not be allowed to belong to both cliques, for some inexplicable reason.
So apparently this was the moment of truth.
Who would it be? The Mayhem Twins, or the “popular” girls?
“So, do you like it here so far?” my new “friend”, Lauren, chirped interestedly, hooking a strand of bleach blonde hair behind her ear as she nibbled on the wilted leaves of a romaine salad. Like it was really necessary to nibble a salad. I never had understood the trend of skinny girls trying to get even skinnier.
I shrugged in nonchalance, not indifference, having quickly taken to watching the student body’s interactions with each other. It was like any other high-school. “It’s not that different.”
Well, I mean, aside from the pearly white ghost who was trying valiantly to ‘help’ me eat my plate of fries, succeeding only in making me look like I was dropping fries periodically into my lap, without ever touching them. That was a little different, I had to admit.
“That’s cool,” another of my “terrific” new allies, Jen, sighed, her voice croaking slightly. That was just how she talked, actually, and not a direct reflection on how unamused she was by me. Although I wouldn’t have blamed her. I wasn’t that interesting or interested in them and their showy clique. Yeah, they were popular. Who the hell knew what they wanted with me.
“These girls are such bitches!” Alex exploded suddenly, soaring to his feet, towering over the lunch room, on top of the round lunch table with one of his sneakers in my Chinet plate of fries, scowling down at me. “You have no idea how much I hated them. Gosh, do you even pay attention to the things I’m telling you, Brooke? I’ve been here, done this, you know.”
He completed his fevered rant around the time the final component of the trio, Morgan, asked me a question, which I happened to miss, due to my true inability to focus on multiple things at once, especially when one of the things was a radiant, shouting boy.
“Huh?” I inquired brilliantly, my gaze straying from Alex’s unnerving one, which felt heavy as lead.
“Oh, precious,” she laughed with a hint of true condescendence, tilting her head to the side and pouting, as if she pitied me. “I asked if you had met my boyfriend, Collin, yet,” her question was tainted with a certain venomous lilt that warned me about as strongly as it could that she had indeed seen me walking with him and was ready to sink her bubblegum pink nails into my scalp if I didn’t back off.
“Oh, yeah! I think he walked me to my first class,” I nodded hurriedly, gathering every scrap of spare energy I had to inflect some enthusiasm through my words. It was simply exhausting, trying so hard to sound happy. “He told me all about you.”
“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” Alex crowed obnoxiously, raising his voice to the fluorescent lighted ceiling. “That’s my bull shit meter, in case you were wondering.”
I turned to give Alex the most disparaging glare I could manage, without looking too obvious. As we conducted an intense staring contest with each other, I was completely oblivious to the rest of the lunch room, who were all turning none-too-discreetly to look at something else. Or someone. Someones – final answer.
“What are you looking at? Oh, those are the Mayhem twins. Don’t even ask,” Morgan scoffed, her eyes rolling a complete 360 ceilingward before returning to her impeccable, bright pink nail polish.
Confused to the umpteenth power, I followed Jen’s dull, expressionless gaze to two girls who had literally garnered the attention of everyone in the lunch room. They strutted hand in hand together, laughing in an ever so exclusive tenor that made you wonder what or who they were talking about. They were polar opposites, one with stick straight dark brown hair that fell past her shoulders, and one with platinum blonde tresses that were haphazardly wavy.
“Who?” I pressed unintelligently, unable to quell my curiosity, which I now knew was nothing unusual.
“They’ll both answer to Mayhem, but the brunette is Sanchez and the blonde is Dallas,” Jen sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in fabricated disinterest, torturing her Boca burger to the point that it simply looked like chicken feed.
I wasn’t going to lie, they intrigued me.
So much so that I barely noticed them approaching our table until they were looming right above me, sporting identical wry grins.
“So you’re the new girl everyone’s talking about,” Sanchez began, arching an eyebrow playfully, flashing a pair of pointy looking incisors. No more pointy than was normal, but she wielded them like a vampire, causing her grin to look more like a grimace.
I shrugged nonchalantly. I guess I was, although I wasn’t really aware that anyone was talking about me. Honestly, I wasn’t really aware that there was much to talk about.
“And you’re hanging out with these biscuits?” Dallas laughed, tossing back her mane of blonde hair, her voice akin to wind chimes.
“Come on, we’ll rescue you,” Sanchez snorted, holding out her spare hand, wiggling her chunky ring adorned fingers, urging me to complete the gesture.
“Son of a bitch…,” Alex groaned bestially, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly and expelling a monstrous sigh.
I gauged Morgan, Jen, and Lauren’s expressions. Their eyebrows were raised, their features suddenly turned fierce. Apparently, I would not be allowed to belong to both cliques, for some inexplicable reason.
So apparently this was the moment of truth.
Who would it be? The Mayhem Twins, or the “popular” girls?
♠ ♠ ♠
Title Credit: Dependence - The Less.Thanks to everyone who commented :)