Tokio Derby

My vomit tasted like rotten vegetables and totally clashed with Hansel’s clothes.

“FREAK!” she yelled, recoiling from me like I had smallpox and trying to shake off the vomit on her blue minidress. “Are you retarded or something?!”

“Just because I vomited does not mean that I’m mentally retarded,” I rasped, picking myself up off the ground. “I’m just drunk, is all.”

“Well you must be mentally unstable to vomit on me!” she snapped, shoving me back to the ground. The partygoers outside must not have had anything else to do so they crowded around. Hansel spit on the ground next to my face. “You must be mentally unstable to think that being here is okay!”

I opened my mouth to reply, but her eyes shut me up. “You know what’s wrong with you?” she yelled, “You’re nothing but a spineless little girl, always trying to follow others so you won’t have to think with your pathetic little brain. You try to make yourself popular so people will like you. But the truth is, nobody likes you. Everyone just pretends to like your stupid American ass so you can go away.” A smirk appeared on her face. “Even Dominic.”

I continued to stare at her, speechless. I know she thought the Dominic part really hurt me, but that crap barely phased me. It was all the other stuff she said that hit me the most. The hole in my heart grew larger, happy to be fed by the words. Of course nobody would like you Clarissa. You’re nothing but a spineless freak whose parents abandoned you. The only reason people would even be around you is because of pity.

I sniffled, willing myself not to cry in front of these people. Just put on a brave face. I found enough will to stand, my legs more wiggly than Jell-O and my body trembling. I started to walk away from Hansel, away from this party, away from it all. But something stopped me.

“You know what you’re problem is?” a familiar voice said from the crowd, pushing people aside so they could get through. It was Davon, looking like she didn’t give a damn about the party with her hair in lazy pigtails and wearing clothes you only wear when you want to be lazy. She walked closer to Hansel, getting almost in her face.

I didn’t even see her hand curl up into a fist until she gave Hansel a right hook to the face.

Hansel crumbled, hands cupping her face and tears running down her face. “The problem is that you’re a bitch,” she snapped, dragging my arm and pulling me away from the crowd. I let myself be dragged, trying not to think of what just happened or why she would even stick up for me when I said those sorts of things to her earlier.

I was led to the kitchen, where Davon slammed me down in a chair and stomped a plastic cup next to her. “What the hell was that?!” she screamed. “Why did I even have to punch Hansel in the face?!” A smile appeared. “I mean, I’m not mad about punching Hansel in the face. I would have easily done that for no reason at all.”

“It was nothing,” I sighed, kicking air and trying to ignore her. Davon wouldn’t have that at all. She kicked the leg of my chair, bringing attention back to her.

“You’re going to tell me what happened,” she demanded, her eyes drilling holes into my brain.

I sighed again, trying to figure out if I should tell her at all. She’s just going to make fun of you, The Voice hissed. She only feels pity for you and is going to make fun of you the minute you leave, Clarissa.

The rugby team got her for me.

Two of the members hauled her up, one taking her legs and the other her arms. Their shirts were a clear sign of who they were, the school logo in the center and the school colors posted all over the shirt. They had the typical buzz-cuts that the team captain made famous when he shaved his head the minute he scored the winning goal in regional game.
“LET GO F ME!!” she screamed, thrashing around.

“Don’t move so much slut,” one of them said, gripping her legs harder. “Besides, don’t you like this sort of stuff?”

“Let her go!” I screamed, jumping on of them and putting him into a headlock. He let go of her legs, and the minute they touched the ground Davon attempted to run. Her arms stretched to follow her, the bones in her arm seeming like they were going to pull from the socket. I slammed the one I was holding to the floor, quickly running to the other and doing the only thing I could think of-biting him in the arm.

He recoiled, letting go of his grip to hold on to the bite mark. It was my turn to grab Davon, and I quickly gripped her arm and ran into the crowded living room. The addition of us into the mass of gyrating, sweaty bodies was easy. We blended easily into the crowd, only stopping when I saw a hand on Davon’s shoulder.

Before I could do anything, five rugby bodies were on top of us. Davon’s scream wasn’t as loud as mine, both of us attempting to get the bodies off of us. A hand dug into my shirt and ripped half of it off of my body. Other hands gripped my skirt and snaked their way up to my underwear.

“Please, stop,” Davon screamed. From the sound of it she started to cry. A hand gripped my mouth to cover it before I could scream again.

We were five seconds away from getting raped before a whistle blew.

The rugby boys stopped what they were doing and quickly got up, like the whistle was controlling them. I saw Davon through the bodies and crawled over to hug her. One of her pigtails was down, her shirt completely ripped off and her bra only on her body from a falling-apart strap. Her pants were ripped in two and her underwear had tears on it.

“How do you feel now skanks?” Hansel’s voice echoed from the microphone. She was standing on the stage, her left cheek bloated from the punch. Dominic was far off in the corner, Selma connected to his hip.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” I screamed, clutching a hysterical Davon closer. “Why would you even do something like this?!”

“Well, it was your idea, wasn’t it?” Hansel replied coolly. I froze. How could I forget that I said Davon deserved a “surprise”? “You told Dominic to give her something. This just happened to be what he had in mind.”

Davon wiggled free of me. “You did this?” she whispered, her eyes filled with tears and fear. She stood on wobbly feet and stared down at me like I was a stain she didn’t want to get on her clothes. “Why would you even think this would be funny?!”

“Davon-“ I started, but she was already out of the crowd and away from me. I grabbed my clothes slowly and stood up. “He’s not worth it you know,” I yelled to Hansel. “You’re better than that lousy piece of trash.”

“And who are you to tell me that?” she sneered. I could only look at her in reply. Here I was trying to help her, and she just rejects me? Who does something like that?

Oh yeah. Me.

Depression hit me hard as I dropped all the clothes and ran. I ran out of the room, out of the party, out of everything. I could feel raindrops starting to pelt me as I ran home. Oh great. Rain. As if my life wasn’t great enough. I couldn’t help but remember things as I was running: how I saw Davon with her rollerblades at that very stop, or how we once pretended we were explorers in that park, or how Davon fell flat on her face when we reached that rock. What kind of person was I, a sweet person or some mischievous, two-timing brat?

I ran up the apartment stairs without looking, the rain so dense and hard it was blurring my vision. I heard a door open and Claude stepped out, doing a double take when he saw me.

“What happened?” he asked, trying to bring me into a hug. I shrugged him off. “Who did this to you?”

“IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHO!” I screamed at him. “IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHAT I WAS DOING TONIGHT YOU ARROGANT PRICK!”He took a step back, confusion on his face. I knew I shouldn’t have said that to him, but it just came out. “Tell me,” I whispered, “Dominic didn’t make that doll for me, did he?”

Before he even opened his mouth to tell me, I was gone. I ran into my apartment, slamming the door. I crumpled to the floor, my back using the door as support as I sniffled. Don’t cry. I swear to God you better not cry.

Familiar hands wrapped around me, wondering where I had been and what I was doing and why my clothes looked like that. I didn’t reply, my face buried in my lap and a single tear running down my face out of view from them. I could never tell them what had happened: what I had done wrong or why I was sad. I could only sit there, a mere speck of what I once was or probably pretended to be.

Two days later I was back in America.