Fatal Attraction

Popularity. People seem to think that popularity is what defines you in high school. In a way, it kind of does. If you aren't popular, then you're a loser. If you aren't popular, people judge you so much harder. But those kids who are "losers," even though they're just as good as popular kids, judge the popular kids as being sluts and whores. This may not be true but most people label others in the way they portray them. For instance, I label Stephanie and her friends as sluts because that's how I view them. All they do is party and get wasted and I'm sure they have sex at every party or something close to it. But, they may not. I wouldn't know. They could be completely virginal.

The cafeteria is always the perfect place to see who's popular and who isn't. Right off the bat, you can tell that Tony and I are at the bottom of the social food chain; "emos" and geeks are always on the bottom. Then the band geeks are on top of us since some of the popular people are in the school band. Then come the art students and drama geeks. Then there's the wannabe jocks, AKA the ones who play the lame sports like basketball and volleyball and do tennis and swim. Then at the very top are you cheerleaders, kick liners, football players and lax bros. In most cases, this is how it goes. At lunch, they always sit together and cause havoc. It's disgusting.

As I sit down at my lunch table, I scan the lunchroom. Stephanie and her cronies have yet to arrive and I'm sure when they do, they'll have some lame line they took out of Mean Girls or something to feed to me. Honestly, their insults are so unoriginal that I can actually name where they stole the jokes from. They think they're being funny but they just further their stupidity.

I feel the lunch bench dip down a bit as Tony sat beside me, discreetly kissing my cheek. I glance at him through my dark lashes and smile, knowing that I'm blushing. He greets me the same way every day and I'll never get over it. "Hello." I say and then look down at my sketchbook. I had decided to draw a fairy today; a fairy with large wings and a small frame. I love supernatural creatures; demons, zombies, vampires. Anything of the sort. I find it so fascinating.

"Hi. How are you doing?" I hear him take out his lunch and bite into his sandwich. He begins to shake his leg, causing the whole bench to shake with him. This includes me shaking and although it annoys the shit out of me, I opt out of saying something. He does it without knowledge, I'm pretty sure.

I shrug and glance up as I hear the cackles of Stephanie heading in our direction, "I was good up until now." I straighten up as Stephanie stops in front of our table, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. She's dressed more appropriately for school today, with long pants and a long-sleeved blouse. She is showing a fair amount of cleavage, though, and I'm glad to see that Tony is more focused on his food. "May I help you?" I sneer in a bored tone, crossing my arms over my chest.

Stephanie lifts her chin and stares down at me in a demeaning fashion, "You and your boyfriend here really need to keep your hands and lips to yourself. You're scaring the freshmen." She flicks her eyes over Tony for a brief second. I know she still wants him; her feelings for him when he moved here haven't changed. She had been all over him. I think she's jealous. She's not used to not getting what she wants but this isn't something that daddy can't pay for.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll keep that in mind the next time he kisses me on the cheek. It's quite surprising though that your dry-humping with Brian over there doesn't frighten the freshmen even more," I stare at her with the same cold gaze she's firing at me, "Unless you think that our PG actions are more disturbing than your R rated ones."

Stephanie bites her lip and I can see that she's struggling to find a come back. Finally, she digs her nails into her water bottle and curtly snaps, "Whatever" before walking over to her own table. She's quick to gather up all her sheep and begin to gossip about us. How do I know it's about us specifically? Because every five seconds she's glancing and or pointing in our direction. I so desperately want to give her the finger but I have to remain under control. I don't want to draw any more attention to myself than I already have.

Tony and I are silent for a few minutes. He knows it's best to let me calm down before speaking to me. We usually encounter the judgmental bitch every day, and we have to listen to whatever complaint she has about our minimal PDA. However, she never fails to get my blood boiling. What Tony doesn't know, though, is that Stephanie and I had been really good friends back in middle school.

That may come as a shock but we could even be considered as best friends, back in the day. It was always Mayella, Stephanie and Sam, causing chaos in whatever classes we had together. We would have sleepovers every weekend and do whatever young teenage girls do that that age; mostly we gossiped and talked about our crushes. We were never allowed to have mutual boy crushes because the boy wouldn't be able to like both of us or all three of us back. That's essentially what caused our friendship to fall; we both had this huge crush on the class clown. The class clown just so happened to be Mike. Needless to say, Stephanie and I got into a huge fight over him and then years later I was the one who actually ended up with him.

"I don't understand why she's so mean to you." Tony states as he bites into his sandwich. He tugs open a small bag of barbecue chips and takes a bite of one once he swallows his sandwich. I shake my head, silently telling him that he wouldn't understand. He simultaneously nods and continues to eat his lunch as I begin to sketch away in my sketch book.

"I had an interesting conversation with Mike today," Tony states. I don't lift my head to look at him, but I raise an eyebrow as I press a little harder with my pencil. Whenever Mike is brought up into the conversation, it's not usually a good one.

"Oh yeah? What do he have to say?" I question and erase a line frantically. Drawing is so tedious.

Tony laughs nervously. I sneak a glance at him. He's rubbing his hands under the table and his eyes are focused on his food. His eyes shine with fright, probably from the way he anticipates I'm going to react. This probably won't be good. "He asked me, if I was, um, afraid of dying." I snap my head towards him and narrow my eyes. Even though I don't show it, those rumors piss me the fuck off. People these days figure they need to come up with a reason for everything. A lot of people in my life have been cremated or are buried six feet under. Who the fuck cares? Get on with your life.

"Huh." I click my tongue and straighten up, "And what did you say?"

Tony chews his lip, "I said that, that is a ton of crap. He told me that he's glad that you guys broke up when you did because he could've been next." He slips my hand into his, "Don't dwell on it too much, May. He's stupid. There's no way that you attract death. Tragedies like this happen to a lot of people." He runs his lips over my knuckles and I smile a little. It's a small smile but it fills me with warmth, more so when my boyfriend smiles back at me.

"I've learned to ignore it." I say and go back to my drawing. I shake my head slowly. Attract death, I scoff inward, un-fucking-believable. I begin to furiously shade my drawing. I'm pretty sure that Mike is in this lunch period and I desperately want to confront him about this whole ordeal. But, I stop myself because I don't want to draw unnecessary attention to myself. It wouldn't hurt to threaten him a little bit though.



At the end of the school day, I wait next to Mike's locker for him. I told Tony that I would call him when I got home and that he didn't have to wait for me. He had looked at me oddly but agreed anyways, leaving the school grounds on his skateboard. I hadn't exactly told him I was pulling a scare tactic with Mike but I figured he would get a laugh out of it later.

I look down the hallway to see Mike heading this way. I see his eyes land on my and him freeze a little bit. He continues to walk after a second of hesitation. The corner of my mouth tilts up in a small smirk. It's good to know that he's a little intimidated by me. Intimidation is good. It's great. It's awesome. I'll gladly have people intimidated to approach me rather then them confidently approaching me and saying shit to my face.

Mike doesn't let his eyes fall on mine as he begins to unlock his locker, "Mayella," He greets, throwing his locker open. I turn my body toward him and watch him shove some books into his backpack. He seems angry or nervous, I'll choose the latter. He finally lifts his eyes to meet mine and shuts his locker, "Can I help you?"

I clear my throat and nod, "I heard you told my boyfriend that he's probably gonna die," I see Mike flinch at the word boyfriend and I force down another smirk, "And I want you to know that that's complete bullshit. He's not gonna die just because he's with me. If your goal was to scare him into dumping me, then you failed. Miserably. I don't know what game you're playing Michael, but you better knock it off because I'm done." I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder, "Stop spreading rumors about me that aren't true because karma will probably bite you in the ass."

I turn away, the frightened look on Mike's face permanently branded in my brain. I really hope that karma gets him because he deserves. I shake my head as I climb onto my bus, music blaring through my headphones. What a fucking dumbass, I think as I find an empty seat and sit down, telling Tony he's gonna die. A couple minutes later the bus takes off and I'm still furious. I hate Mike. I really fucking hate him. I don't know how I found him so appealing last summer but the only thing I know now is, is that he's a fucking scumbag. And, I don't particularly like scumbags.