The Bitch War

With a huff of exasperation, I take a seat in an uncomfortable school desk. A school desk property of Trayton High School. The oh-so great Trayton High School. A girl with sits in front of my on a desk. I look up.

"Oh. Its just you," I say with sarcasm.

"Hey!" She hides a grin, pretending to be hurt.

"I'm kidding, Elly."

"Yeah, I know," she blows the words out in a breathe. She sits up straight and tucks her dirty blonde, shoulder length hair behind her ear. "There's a party tonight. At Brooke's. Tonight."

"When is it again? I didn't hear," I tease about her emphasis on 'tonight.'

"Ren, seriously. Will you come?"

"I don't wanna!" I say like a five year old. Ever since I got here, Elly Jenson has been my only friend. She's one of those people who fit in perfectly, but doesn't get talked about. She's right in between on the scale of popularity - normal. Brooke, on the other, is up top.

I'm down low on the popularity scale. I'm not welcome here and I've been here only a week. On my first day, Brooke accidentally dumped her soda all over me. She's the typical prep of the school and dresses like a slut. Provacative, low cut shirts, short shorts that could be underwear, or short miniskirts that don't cover anything. Occasionally, when there is cheerleader practice, she struts around in the trampy red and gold cheer uniform.

"Come on, Rena! Please!" Elly begs.

"Fine, fine, fine," I say, wanting her to shut up. "You''re picking me up, though 'cause my dad probably is going to have the car tonight."

"Um, okay." Even though she's my friend, she doesn't know a lot about me. For instance: how my mother is dead or how I have to go live with my brother sometimes when my dad gets abusive. Yeah, he goes through phases of being abusive. But one things is for sure, my father is almost always drunk. She doesn't know about my situation or even why I moved here.

The bell rings conveniently, breaking the awkward silence between her and me. I stay in homeroom because my next class is already in here.



I set my tray full of food down. I pick up a fry, and plop it into my mouth. Elly sits in front of me along with her other guy friend, Kyle. Elly talks about Kyle a lot, but this is the first time I'd seen him because he skipped the whole week except for today.

"So this is the famous Kyle?" I ask with a small grin. I eat another fry.

"The one and only," Elly smiles at him. "He asked me to be his girlfriend. This morning."

"That's what I did," he smiled back, grabbing her hand. A pang of jealousy hit me. Why don't I have any guy friends? That's right. I'm not fucking welcome here because I'm new.

"So, why'd you move here?" Kyle asks.

I sigh, looking at my food. Nobody knows why I moved, nor do they care. Besides, I don't want any sympathy; but regardless I explain myself.

"My dad got in trouble with a gang back in New York," I say in a unphased, unemotional voice, "so he hauled me all the way over here with him to California, where I am now closer to my brother. Which means I can occasionally stay at his place while my dad is drunk." I didn't add 'and abusive' because, once again, I don't want their pity.

"Oh," Kyle and Elly both reply simultaneously.

I smile and add on, "But I'm completely fine. It's just annoying because I get calls saying I have to pick my dad up from a bar or at some tramp's place."

"Oh," Elly repeats. "So, the party tonight. Wanna come over an hour before to get ready?"

"Sounds great."

We eat in silence, then, until Kyle looks to me. "So, whats your name again?"

"Serenity East," I reply, "but Ren or Rena for short."

"Cool name."

I smile pathetically and look down at my food. Silence hangs over us one again.

A guy runs past singing, "Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday!"

Another guy shouts, "Fag!"

People laugh. It wasn't even funny, but for some reason a smile slips onto my face. Kyle and Elly try and make small talk with me, but every conversation comes to a dead end. Lunch finally ends, and I head off to face the rest of the day.



"Ugh!" Elly growls. "Why the hell are you so pretty, Ren?"

"No, no, no," I laugh.

"Uh, yeah. Have you looked in a mirror?"

"No, Elly," I laugh again, "They break because I'm so ugly."

"M-hm. Boys are going to be crawling all over you tonight."

"Yeah, 'cause that's a good thing."

She does my makeup; then I do her's. I grab my bag and take out my outfit. It's a gray tank tob with ripped jeans and some accessories. I go into the bathroom to change. Elly's ready too by the time I get out of the bathroom. She wears a red tank top and a a dark navy blue mini skirt.

"Pft! Damn, girl!" I laugh. "You're smokin'!"

"Yeah, yeah, Ren; tell me something I don't know," Elly replies with sarcasm. "Ready? Lets go."

And we're off. After turns, lights, and stop signs, we arrive at Brooke's house. Music blares, and the smell of alcohal lingers in the air. I don't like it. Because of my father, I refuse to be like him.

As we open the door, without knocking, Elly spots Kyle. They sit on a couch, as I stand and watch drunk teenagers ruin their lives by sniffing, snorting, and drinking. I look to Elly and Kyle. They're making out; tongues attacking, and Kyle's hand moving up and down her sides. Jealousy hits again. Not about Kyle or anything, but the fact that I've never even been kissed.

A drunk guy, bumps into me. "Hey there, pretty!" he shouts over the music. "Wanna get a room with me?"

"Go fuck yourself, manwhore."

"Aw, babe, c'mon!" He comes back toward me, really close. His breathe reeks.

"Go the fuck away!" I shove him again. This time he grabs my ass and licks my cheek. Disgusted, I knee his balls, he leaves probably to go lick someone else's cheek. But there's a commotion going on across the room.

"Get out of my house, Kora!" A girl with blond hair shoves another girl with black hair.

"Why the fuck were you kissing my man?!" The girl with the black hair screams back.

"I wasn't. He kissed me, you slut," the girl retorts. I realize that the blond is Brooke. Brooke Harris, the prep. I assume the other is Kora.

"I'm going to shove your head up your own fucking ass! Bitch!" Kora yells.

By now, a circle has formed. The girls continue shouting, arguing, fighting. Some, like me, are laughing their heads off. Others are chanting, "Fight! Fight!"

I see Kora walk over to a guy, and totally make out with him. She wipe's her lips with the back of her head, grinning.

"There. You kissed my guy; I kiss your...guy." She laughs. The girl has layered hair, and blue eyes. I recall Elly now talking about how this emo chick, Kora, is always fighting with Brooke.

Then, Brooke punches Kora in the nose. People are all shouting now. Kora with a bloody nose, storms out, pulling another guy with black hair with her. I assume that's her boyfriend.

Brooke stands triumphantly. "Yeah, go run away to your daddy!"

"I think I will, Brooke! That is, after I call the police!" Kora flicks Brooke off and pulls out her phone at the doorway. With a devil's grin, the chick answer's into the phone, "Hello, officer, there's a party...Yeah, there's a lot of alcohol." With that, she leaves the house, giving the address to the receptionist.

Brooke yells, "That's war, bitch!"

Shit, shit, shit. I have to go. I do not want to be caught at this party. As if on queue, Elly pulls me out, along with the mass mob of other teens not wanting to be caught. As I'm pushed out the door, Brooke is crossing her arms. A complete look of a bitch plotting revenge.



Elly is driving me home. As I was being shoved out the door, I recall Brooke's menacing, prefect face. It gave me an idea, and I tell Elly. She's laughing so hard, she almost hit a tree.

"So, you're telling me, you're going to right a newspaper-blog-like thing about Brooke and Kora fighting for popularity? I think they might murder you," she sums up.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure everyone at the school hates me already. So why not?"

"Hey, I don't hate you!" She says, laughing. "But I guess I see you're point."

"So, you're going to help me? Y'know, get it out there for people to see?"

"Hell, yeah! You can do the writing, I'll get you publicity. I know you can put the articles/stories in an empty locker. We'll sell the code combo to people who want to 'suscribe.' They can pick up the issue or whatever when you get it done...and...it's going to be great."

"I hope so."

She drops me off, and I walk into my empty, dark house. Dad's probably out sleeping with other ladies. I put on my pajamas, grab my lap top, a bag of Cheetos, and I start typing.

Thirty minutes later, I produced a one page introduction. I talk about me, the future of this, and lastly about what happened tonight. I wrote about the unending hatred between Kora Deys and Brooke Harris, the backstabbing bitches who will sleep with the other girl's boyfriend just to cause hell.

I stare at the header of the page, seeing a blinking cursor. I do not, however, have a title for this all. Then, like a light bulb turning on, I type in the my creation's title: