Bitter Pill

It’s been a bizarre Thursday—minus the detention I’m on my way to.

Bella hasn’t spoken to me since I made her cry by the lockers, Lacey keeps spreading more rumors and sending me dirty looks, everyone constantly walks up to me and asks me things along the lines of, “hot dogs or cupcakes?”. And oddly enough, I’ve been enjoying it.
It may be the attention, or it may be the fact that I know everyone in this school’s a complete dumbass.

It’s just the truth that bothers me the most…

“Ah, Miss Novak, take a seat.” Mr. Calloway nods from his desk as I reluctantly saunter into his room.

I don’t say anything back; just send him a look of hatred and sit in one of the middle rows of desk. Setting my bag on the desk, I rummage through it for a free-write journal I keep with me.

I’ve kept one ever since I was sent to the school counselor back in 3rd grade for constantly ripping scabs off of other kids’ legs. She said I should keep a journal where I could doodle and ramble on about random thoughts—I guess I thought it was a good idea.

“Um, what are you doing Taryn?” Calloway peers over his glasses at me.

“Writing.” I respond quickly.

“Well, that’s not what we really do in deten—“

“Well what do you want me to do? You didn’t give me any orders sir.”

“Taryn, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I just wanna finish the detention and go home.”

“Well I can’t really fight you on that one. I just wanna know; how are things at home? You seem off.”

“I’m not off and things at home are just fine.”

Calloway gets up from his desk, removes his glasses and begins rubbing in between his eyes—He’s much older than I once thought—“Be honest with me Taryn; I won’t send you to the school psychologist. I just wanna help you.”

I don’t want you to help me. That’s what I should be saying. “What are you talking—“

“Taryn, be serious with me. Is it your mom? What’s wrong?” he pressures.
I have to conjure up a lie to keep him from coming any closer. I feel pronged to attack the guy…

“Okay, it is my mom…she’s been working non-stop for months now…and we still don’t have a lot of money. They just cut our gas off last week. I don’t know what to do.”

Damn that sounded good, even to me.

Mr. Calloway doesn’t move. He just waits and stares at me hard and serious. I don’t know what to think. I’m guessing he can see through my charade though.
I almost feel as if I’m supposed to say something more to change the mood, but I don’t know what else to add.

“Taryn, come here.” He says finally after at least 3 minutes of utter silence.

Nervously, I take a few tiny steps forward, “What is it?”

“Don’t be nervous Taryn, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He coaxes eagerly.

“Yeah, the classic line for rape” I think humorously, yet I take a few steps more ironically. I tense up inside anyway in case he wants to touch me I’ll be ready to kick this old guy’s ass.
Reaching behind himself, Calloway closes in on me, whispering, “Don’t tell anyone I did this Taryn.”

And with those words, he brings back his hand, shoving it into my left pants pocket.

“What the hell—“I shriek, but he covers my mouth with his arm.

“Quiet, just check your pocket.” Calloway whispers urgently.

Sliding my fingers into my pocket, I feel around.

He’s jammed a huge wad of money in my pocket!
“What‘s this for?” I question angrily.

“It’s for you—and your mother. Don’t tell her where you got it. Pay your gas bill, please.” My teacher answers almost pleadingly. I don’t understand why he cares so much.

“Um, I don’t know what you want me to—“

“You don’t have to say anything, just go Taryn; detention’s over early.”
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“Holy-shit I can’t believe I got away with that; Thank goodness for rapist teachers!” I think, smiling to myself on the way down the street.

I wish I never had to go back to that death trap. But then again, who the hell says I have to go home? That’s what bothers me the most about my mother: no one has a clue what goes on behind closed doors.
Or either they’re just plain stupid.

Sure, she came to one friggin’ parent-teacher conference, but she was drunk as a skunk! It was a few weeks ago and my algebra teacher kept insisting that Mom go clean herself up in the teacher’s lounge. Of course she refused and embarrassed us both the way I figured she would.

But I guess that’s why they say A for effort.

“Yo, Terri, come over here!” Casey Beckham bursts into my thoughts, screeching from across the street.

Glancing across at her quickly, there she is with Nash and Lydia. Turning away from them as quick as I’d looked, I continue on walking, pretending to ignore them. “Hey, you! I know you hear us over here girl!” Lydia chimes in.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Nash standing there with his arms crossed, grimacing and at the same time, smiling.

“Damn it…” I smile to myself sarcastically, remembering what I’d told him earlier.

“Why’d we invite her?” Lydia groans, smacking ignorantly on a big wad of gum.

“She’s a lesbian; I thought it’d be fun.” Casey smiles fiendishly, adjusting the straps on her tiny black purse.

“Ha…Well I knew the chick was weird, but not that fucked up.” Lydia replies, throwing me a wicked side-glance and swinging a dark purple handbag over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah, definitely a lesbo. You saw her yesterday morning all over your cousin didn’t you? That’s why today at school she was tellin’ everyone about how aggressive this one is towards the chicks. I hear she’s even worse than you Nash.”

“This chick’s hungrier than me huh? Impressive.” Nash nods his head, smiling at me for a quick second, and then looking away.

“Oh yeah totally. I mean, too bad no one wants her. I mean, she can’t just go around pouncing on other girls like that. It’s gross!” Casey tosses her hair, looking from me to Lydia.

“Yeah, I’d kick her ass if she ever came onto me.” Lydia follows up.

“I’m not gay it was just a rumor.” I sigh angrily.

“Oh yeah? Then explain yesterday.” Casey challenges.

“It wasn’t—“

“Yeah, explain yourself Little Miss Chick-Licker. You callin’ my cousin a liar? ‘Cause I know she ain’t no gay like you.” Lydia adds, staring me harshly in the face now.

No time to vent over realizing that Lydia and Lacey are cousins, I retort, “Lacey came onto me!” Seething, I bawl up my fists hanging at my sides.

“Wrong answer!”—Lydia pushes me back—“Like I said, my cousin ain’t no gay.”

Not saying (or thinking) a word, biting down on my bottom lip, I bring my fist forward and aim for her stubby little nose.
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I’d never felt so pressured to inflict pain on someone else, rather than my own parents. It was like a whole new person had consumed me and decided it was time to break loose of the waste of space that was my normal self. I feel like a boy.

I had never engaged in a physical fight before, and I wasn’t the type that you’d see arguing all the time with someone else around my age. Precocious, I guess some would say.

But that’s just the way I am. I see no reason as to why I need to jab someone in the mouth just to get them to shut up.

Why can’t they just do it on their own accord?

“Easy now, relax kid. You”—he points to Lydia—“Keep your hands to yourself. She didn’t do anything.” Nash interferes, restraining my raging left fist with one hand, his other around my waist constricting the rest of me.

Personally I don’t think it’s necessary for him to have to grab my waist, but I’m so lost in translation that I don’t even bother arguing it.

“Whoa, someone’s defensive.” Casey giggles.

“Whatever, it’s not like she was gonna hit me or somethin’.” Lydia smirks, heading off down the street—to the lake I presume—with her bag repeatedly slapping her in the back.

“Sheesh, I thought it was funny.” Casey sighs in response, slowly beginning to follow after Lydia’s trail.

“Yeah, lots of fun.” Nash says low and sarcastically, slowly releasing me.

“…Well I came. You happy now?” I glare back at him.

“Yeah.” His eyes light up. Quickly getting unnerved, me and him both hurry catching up to Casey. I feel reluctant about hanging with them all at once, but I don’t want to give Nash the impression that I’m actually attracted to him.

Because honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m not.

“Soooo Terri, right? If you swear you aren’t gay, what exactly are you supposed to be anyway?”

“Does it matter? Gay, straight; queer, orange, yellow, green, blue? Who the fuck cares about that shit anyway?”

Lightly laughing at Nash’s response, she answers nervously, “No, I guess it doesn’t…So…
I’m sorry about what happened back there I guess…She can be a bit of hothead. It’s best to just back off.”

“Um—“

“She shouldn’t have to; and her name’s Taryn.” He sneers, “…Besides Casey, what’s it to you anyway?”

“I…don’t know…Just tryin’ to make conversation? Geez, don’t be such a dick Nash.” Casey complains as me, her, and Nash make a right corner.
The first thing we’re greeted with is the pathway to the city lake, Thomas Ridgeley. I guess it’s okay that everything in this town happens to be named after some dead guy who used to live here.

I’ve only been to the lake once. It was one of the rare times when me, Bella, and Lacey had all decided to hang out at once. We were in the 6th grade and thought it’d be fun to go after school and hope to be noticed by the popular high school kids.

Epic failure it was, but I liked the lake anyway. It has a huge view (who cares about the Great Lakes anyway?), it sparkles if you catch it on the right day, and the tides don’t get too strong—so it’s actually okay to put your feet in the water every once in a while.

“Hmm, that’s funny. You were just begging for it yesterday.” Nash teases, sticking his tongue out at Casey.

“Shut up! I told you it was important. Besides, you know you enjoyed it.” She replies comically.

“Uh, sure.” He nods as he inches closer to the edge of the lake.

“I suppose that’s better than the response he gave me yesterday.” Casey shrugs, nudging me to my dismay.

“Oh…Um, what did he say?” I ask awkwardly.

“He was all ‘it was alright, but could’ve been better’—typical guy behavior. Geez, chicks are doin’ you a favor when they get down on their knees. You ought to enjoy every second of it, you hear me Nash?” she rambles, brushing a hand through her hair for dramatic effect.

“…Would you pipe down? Why do you talk so much Case? No wonder no one’s plowin’ you now.” Nash sighs, plopping down on one of the bricks, closest to the lake.

“Do you always have to sit that close?!” Casey continues to bicker, walking up behind him and resting her arms on his shoulders, “Hey, come over here will ya?”

It takes me a few moments to realize that she’s actually talking to me. But when I do, in fear of an awkward setting, I climb up on one of the rocks around where they are.

“Why are you up there?” she questions, attempting to dig through Nash’s scalp.

“No reason.” I sigh, trying to hold back my laughter as he fidgets and tries to fight her off. They remind me of one of those scenarios where the mother tries to do the daughter’s hair but the daughter keeps whining and trying to stop the mother.

“Ow, stop!” Nash complains when Casey pulls an orange comb out of her purse and attempts it on his hair.

“Maybe if you didn’t move so much, we wouldn’t have this problem! Just…hold still!” she exclaims, her eyes flaring up in amusement and arousal. Obviously she’s having a ball parading around his hair with me watching. Casey loves the spotlight, whether the review good or bad.

“It’s not made for some chick’s play comb…Get that thing away from me before I go bald!” he squirms, biting down on his lip.

“If you be patient I’ll be done in a matter of minutes…!” Casey growls, “…Great, now I’ve gotta go get my hair lotion from Lydia.” Leaving the comb stuck in Nash’s hair, Casey hurries off to the other side of the lake to find Lydia. He instinctively looks over at me with a longing look.

“I dunno what you want me to do.” I laugh under my breath.

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m pretty.” He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, tons.” I plainly state, “You look great.”

“Why do you cut your hair?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you cut your hair?”

“Um…Why do you grow your hair?”

“It’s just my style…Why do you cut your hair?”

“…Because it’s just—“

“And don’t say it’s your style because that would be lying.”

“Ok…Well, I just think short hair makes me different from the rest of the world.”

“Geez it’s like pullin’ teeth with you. Was that so hard?”

“Yeah.”

“Short hair looks good on you.”

“…Um, yeah?”

“It’s called a ‘thanks’.” He smirks, his teeth flashing at me.

“Thank you.” I half-smile, though a real smile tugs at the bottom of my face. He doesn’t say anything back but I can tell he’s thinking of his next sneaky remark. And oddly enough, I find myself actually waiting, anticipating it.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think I actually like this boy.” I sigh to myself, watching him wrestle with the comb in his hair.

“You could help out here, I won’t bite…Promise.”

“No, no I’d much rather watch you struggle.”

Before Nash can squeeze in another word, Casey hurries back over with Lydia not far behind her. She’s got a sucker in her mouth and her hair appears more frantic than the last time. Nash looks over at her too, with a mixture of curiosity, regret, and hides it with humor. After living with my parents for so long, I’ve learned how to master when a person is hiding something and all the emotions that come with it.

“You okay?” he asks first.

“Peachy.” Lydia smiles grimly, leaning back against a rock and folding her arms.

“Sweet.” He arches his eyebrows into a demeaning manner.

“Gosh, if me and Taryn haven’t got enough of you guys’ sexual innuendo—cut it out!” Casey giggles, unscrewing the top of a jar of hair lotion.

“I didn’t know you were serious about that shit Case…” Nash looks up at her, “Hold on a sec, you’ve got somethin’ on the back of your shirt.”

“Oh really?! Hurry, get it off!” Casey whines, shaking around like a 3 year-old. Nash rises up and places a hand on her shoulder to stop her moving, then snatches the can of lotion from her hands.

“Hey, Nash!!” she whines angrily, flailing her arms around his face. He backtracks a few feet away from her, winds his hand with the lotion back and bolts it at the lake with a devilish look in his eyes.

His light brown eyes have flared up, almost appearing to be yellow as he cackles his heart out, watching Casey’s hair lotion soar its way into the lake. The moment is so cartoon-like, I can’t help but not look away. I’ve never seen someone have such a look of intensity and pleasure, both at once. It’s almost as if he’s a whole other person. Like he’s possessed…

“You bitch, that was my best jar of hair lotion!!!” Casey screeches, stomping up and down in her black pumps, causing me and Lydia both to burst out laughing.

“Oh don’t worry Case—there’ll be other heads, I’m almost certain.” Nash smirks, a new look in his eyes now.

“Ugh, why do you always have to be such a perv?!” she continues to complain, swinging her arms around in his face.

“Whoa, whoa; easy there kid calm down.” Nash grins, grabbing one of her arms, “You don’t wanna do that, do you?” He looks her in the eyes for a noticeable moment.

“…You dick.” Casey sighs, dropping her hands down.
It’s so intriguing to watch the way he interacts with her and Lydia both. It’s like he owns them in some sick twisted manner. They obey his every word, even if they don’t like it. I haven’t exactly concluded who exactly he’s supposed to be dating out of the two, but I’m almost definite that it’s Lydia.
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I saunter home awkwardly with a strange feeling of false resolution in my chest. It feels like there’s something I need to get done with, despite the fact that I had a vague attempt at a good day.
Hopefully I missed my mom so I can just get in, do some homework, and crash...