Robin, Boy Virgin: Original Series

After school, I kissed Cora before she could leave the practice room. Once she was gone, I told Minnie very sadly that I would be ditching Jazz band. She asked why and I told her it was because God hates me. She didn't really appreciate that and smacked my arm. I grinned half heartedly and then dragged my ass out to the parking lot, over to Amanda's shiny, stupid little Acura.

She was waiting for me, I guess, and talking with Erica. Man, this was like rubbing salt into an open wound. No Cora and instead I get Amanda and Erica. God, please, I've been a good kid overall, haven't I? Why do you hate me? Why??

Amanda didn't say anything to me while Erica was there. She unlocked her car and I slumped in the passenger seat. I watched, my face down cast, as the Charger drove away on the other side of the parking lot. I'm sure you can imagine how badly I want to be in that passenger seat right now. A moment later, I got a text message from Cora.

"Be productive. Don't be a dead beat partner," She teased me via technology. I snorted unhappily. Amanda climbed in her car, calling good bye to Erica.

"Sorry about that," She said, turning on her car.

"S'alright," I mumbled. Honestly, on the chain of shitty things right now, her ignoring me because her popular bitch friends were around was waaay down at the bottom.

Amanda drove us to her house. It was one of those houses that's nice and huge and all that, but it was too big for the lot it was on, you know? Anyway, Amanda pulled into the driveway and we walked up to the front door. Amanda unlocked it and stepped inside. I followed her, looking around out of habit.

Nice spacious foyer, some kind of granite flooring. I heard a small dog bark from somewhere in the house and a moment later a curly-coat, shih tzu type of dog came scuttling over to Amanda and me. It started sniffing my legs urgently as I took off my shoes. This was a no-shoe-wearing house, I could tell, even if Amanda hadn't taken off her boots.

"This is Jet," Amanda said. Ok, point for her: that was an excellent name and I was glad she hadn't named the little white dog "Maggie" or something typical like that.

"Hi Jet," I said, petting the little dog on its back. It growled the most nonthreatening growl at me but I stopped patting it out of respect. It finished its preliminary sniffing of the intruder and then moved on to greet Amanda and wag its fluffy tail.

"Hi bitch," Amanda said in a baby voice that actually made my throat clench and my stomach turn. Amanda smiled nicely at the dog, though, and picked her up. I guessed Jet was a girl, since Amanda had just affectionately called her 'bitch'.

"Come in. Are you hungry?" Amanda asked, carrying Jet and walking through to a huge-ass kitchen. I looked around, stupidly impressed with her wealth.

"Nah I'm ok," I said honestly. Amanda scratched Jet on the head and then put her down.

"K, well I'll grab our poster and shit. We can just work on the island," Amanda said and then left the kitchen. I sat down on one of the bar stools at the island. I felt something poke my foot and looked down to see Jet was still sniffing the crap out of me, her nose right near my person. I wanted to pet Jet, but didn't want to offend her either with my patting.

Amanda returned with our poster supplies and her laptop. I took the supplies from her and spread them out on the table, taking my time doing it since I didn't have anything to do while she plugged in and booted up her laptop.

When it was fully on, Amanda brought up a music downloading application (a shitty one, but she'd made do it seemed) and turned on a Bon Jovi song of all freaking things. Amanda turned to look at me.

"... my friends like Ke$ha and shit like that. I'm more into this," She said, like she was confessing a secret to me that she thought I'd understand. I raised my eyebrows a little. Amanda kept looking at me, like she expected me to say something. It was making me uncomfortable. This was weird, but I think what was going on was she recognized the major music geek/snob label I fit under and was like... trying to impress me or something with her good taste in music?

The thing is (and Amanda couldn't possibly know this unless she really looked into the background) but, compared to the other music of that era (the Zeppelin, Floyd, even Aerosmith and Black Sabbath), Bon Jovi is a little... uber gay. Back then, being into Bon Jovi was a little like being into Miley Cyrus today. Like, yeah obviously the artist is a huge pop sensation, but it's embarrassing to be openly into them. Maybe not as embarrassing as Miley Cyrus, but you get the idea. However, in all fairness, if Miley manages to pull off similar longevity or look half as good as freaking Jon Bon Jovi does today, I will be impressed, I'll admit it.

"Oh yeah?" I finally managed to reply, not satisfying what Amanda had been looking for at all. I looked away awkwardly and reached into my backpack for my Geography notes. Amanda, looking a little dejected and displeased, started arranging the cardboard paper on the poster board.

"... So, uh, what did you get on the Geography exam?" I made myself ask. I felt kinda bad for pissing on her attempt at bonding with me over music. What the hell she was thinking, I don't know. But anyway.

"Meh, not bad. I got a B -," She said with a shrug. She glanced at me, pushing her red hair off her face in quintessential "I'm so hott" girl-like fashion. I wasn't buying what she was selling, but whatever. That, that doesn't really matter.

"What did you get?" She asked me back.

"An A," I admitted. Another fucked up thing about high school and teenagers: when under both influences, you become embarrassed about getting good grades and being smart. If you're even, like, a smidgen happy about a good mark you receive, you get accused of being a nerd, kiss up, or just plain cocky. That sucks.

"Really? Smartie," Amanda accused. You see?? Although, in this instance, it was pretty obvious her teasing wasn't meant to be taken too seriously.

"That's what Erica got too," Amanda went on, starting to cut out the sun for our poster.

"Really??" I asked, my shock slipping out. Amanda looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Fuck you, popular bi-otch, put that back down.

"Uh... yeah," She said obviously. I nodded; playing it off like it wasn't a big deal. But, come on. Erica's just too popular to actually be smart. I guess hogging all of Mr. Jeffrey's time and attention could really benefit a person. I suddenly felt bad for the stupid, unpopular kids because they had to compete for a teacher's attention with girls like Erica, against whom there really is no competition. They will win, because they hold the belief that they always should win.

And, er, yeah I'm unpopular and I'm stupid in lots of ways too, but not academic stupid, thank God.

Amanda and I worked on the poster for the next few hours, mostly talking about the project and only occasionally making idle chatter. Jet kept sniffing me, distrusting my presence completely. As for the music, I didn't bitch, because at least Bon Jovi is a step up from fucking Ke-dollar sign- ha. And in my in love and sexually deprived state, I kind of enjoyed the songs on a superficial level. Ha.