They Never Meant a Word of It

"Oh my god, Cathy! I adore your skirt! I wish I had half your fashion sense," Some lame freshman squealed. Okay, so I'm not the best with names. "Where-o-where did you get it?" she continued.

I looked down at my pink and black plaid skirt and thought about the question. Truth is, I got it at Hot Topic, but no one needs to know I shop there. Alright, come up with an excuse...

"I-"

"I fucking hate you, William!" a scream cut me off.

"Yikes," Jacob muttered. "Looks like there's some emo bullshit going on." I looked over at the table of freaks. The kid I was paired up with in English was standing there, and some other girl was marching away with tears swelling in her eyes and spilling over. I almost felt bad for the poor thing. I'm sure I would've looked longer, until I caught sight of my neighbor among the group and looked away quickly.

"Aren't they just the funniest?" the lame freshman giggled. "I love emos. They are soodramatic."

"Yeah, they're awesome," Jacob agreed with a huge smile on his face.

"Uh... yeah," I stuttered. I should... go talk to her. "I have to pee," I got up from my seat at the "popular kids" table and strolled to the bathroom.

Yeah… don’t ask why I would do this. It’s just… she seemed so sad. I’d like to know the reason. Yeah, that’s it. Curiosity. I don’t actually “care”, I’d just like to know.

“Hello?” I called making it seem like it was to no one in particular.

“What do you want?” I heard between sobs in a bathroom stall.

“Are… you okay?”

“Why do you care?” The door of the stall ripped open revealing a small girl with mascara tears streaked down her face.

“I’m…curious.” I tried to use my own excuse.

“Well, no. I’m not really okay. My step-brother really set me off.”

“Aw, what’d he say?”

“He said it’s no wonder why my old family didn’t want me.”

“Ouch,” I said flatly, without thinking.

“Yeah.” She mumbled.

“So, you wanna come out now? I’ll even help you fix your make-up,” I did my best to sound reassuring.

“Thanks,” She smiled weakly and walked out of the stall. “I’m Clarissa, by the way. Call me Claire,”

“I’m Cathleen. People call me Cathy but I hate that,” I told her, she laughed

“I won’t ever call you Cathy, I swear,”

“Good. Now let’s do make-up. Great shirt, by the way,” I motioned to the Green Day logo that decorated her top. She looked at me like I had three heads.

“I wouldn’t think you’d like Green Day,”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,”

***
It took a little bit of work, but I fixed Claire up back to normal.

“Thanks a million,” She thanked me as we walked out of the bathroom.

“Anytime,” I replied with a smile.

“Thanks,” she repeated “So… uh… I was wondering if you were like doing anything today? Cuz I was maybe gonna hangout with some friends…if you wanna come…”

“Oh, Claire. Listen…” I stuttered. C’mon, think about it Cat. You have a reputation to live up to. “I…don’t think it’s best if we’re…seen together, ya know?”

Her mouth formed a big “O” and she looked upset.

“I’m sorry. We can still be friends though…if it’s like… just the two of us.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’ll complicate things, Claire. I’m wicked sorry,” I put a hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it off.

“Yeah. Okay. See you round.”

“Bye.” I smiled weakly. Hello feeling of being a gigantic bitch.