I carefully examined my nails in class as Lizzie, in the desk across from
mine, chattered excitedly to Miranda about how a Junior told her her shoes
were nice. She spoke of it as if it was the most exciting thing that had
happened to her all week; as I thought about it, I realized it probably
was. What a joy it must have been for her, to be recognized by someone that
wasn't Gordo or Miranda. Lizzie was one of those who got lost in the sea of
high school. She had charisma, that was certain, but she was also
hopelessly without grace.
Claire, beside me, was grinning evilly as she listened to Lizzie's pathetic story. I sighed and quickly cut in, "You know, that's just peachy, McGuire, but do you think we could get this going sometime today?"
Lizzie rolled her eyes and abruptly stopped speaking. We had just been assigned a group project in Mythology. My group was responsible for the Greek gods and goddesses, and it consisted of Claire, Lizzie and Miranda.
"All right," said Lizzie. She glanced quickly at Miranda; they exchanged a brief look of understanding. I could tell they were both upset about being in a group with me. I grinned inwardly with the knowledge that they feared me. Lizzie continued. "Let's go ahead and divide up the research." She pulled out our rubric and started skimming down the list.
"Aren't you just a natural-born leader," Claire snarled. "I think we can divide the work up for ourselves, thanks." She snatched the paper from Lizzie's hand and leaned towards me. We looked over the list and chose what we wanted, and handed it back to her, leaving what was left for Lizzie and Miranda. Miranda pursed her lips to spit out one of her snappy retorts, but she stopped herself. She had always had a persistent attitude, but she had been extremely subdued since coming to high school. Some people just failed to live up to their own hype.
While we were supposed to be digging through encyclopedias, Claire and I discussed the details of our "glamorous" lives. I made a point to touch upon subjects, like Ethan and cheerleading, that I knew would get under Lizzie's skin. I snuck glances at her every now and again. Blonde strands of hair fell across her face, and her soft lips were trying to conceal a frustrated pout. I felt myself wishing I could just freeze time for a moment, so I could take a moment to examine the complexity of Lizzie's features. But that wasn't the way it worked. I had to avoid looking at her, had to make her feel like I was completely unaware of her existence.
"We'll have to meet afterschool one day," Lizzie interrupted. "To put everything together."
"We'll do at my house, naturally," I offered, careful not to even glance in her direction. "I certainly don't want to be caught dead in McGuire's neighborhood."
Claire laughed and nodded in agreement. I looked over and realized what she had been doing for the past few minutes; I had been so caught up in my thoughts I wasn't even paying attention to her. "Claire!" I snapped. She been drawing decorative hearts and stars all over my hand with a pink gel pen. I tried to rub it off. "I have to go the rest of the day with this mess all over my hand. Who writes on theirself, Claire?! How skanky."
Miranda shifted slightly in her seat, trying to conceal the history notes she had marked all over her own hand.
"Sorry," Claire mumbled. "I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing."
"I'll say you weren't."
The bell rang. Lizzie and Miranda gathered up their books quickly, obviously eager to get away from us. I pulled out my compact and re-applied my lip gloss. I glanced over and saw that Claire really did look sorry. "Ugh, quit looking so pitiful," I told her, snapping the compact shut and shoving it back into my bag. "It's not that big a deal. Let's try and go wash it off." She nodded and we left the classroom, flipping our hair as we turned the corner. I was pissed off at Claire for writing on me, but I couldn't really stay mad at my partner in evil. Besides, anger makes hideous wrinkles in my forehead.
* * * *
I got off the bus that afternoon and walked up the winding cobblestone sidewalk to my house. When I unlocked the door, I heard the echo of my entrance throughout the silent house. There was hardly ever a time when I didn't come home to an empty house. It was one of the feelings I detested more than anything else. Getting off a bus crowded with people and conversations, and then stepping into my house where I was completely alone, made my emotions plummitt. I craved socialization. I needed to be with people. Occasionally Amy was around, being the one who took care of me and all, but she was usually out with her friends.
I tossed my backpack in the middle of the floor. What did I care? It's not like I had a mother around to tell me not to leave things in the floor. Sometimes I wished I didn't have as much freedom as I did. I wanted my mother on my case all the time, asking me questions. I wanted her to want to know things about me. Keep track of who I was hanging out with. Ask me how my day was.
I slid onto my bed and wrapped my arm around one of my pink pillows. I never got used to the silence. Most people my age liked having time to themselves, but there was something in me that always itched to have people around. People fascinate me. If you pay close enough attention to them, you begin to see patterns in the way they act. You start to learn how to say exactly what people want to hear, or don't want to hear, as the case may be. If you understand people well enough, you'll know the things to do and say that will get them to feel however you want them to feel. That's what made me such a powerful person in the high school world. I knew people, I knew how all these games were played.
Of course, things weren't always perfect. No one's that good. There would always be some things out of my reach. I had to accept that, even though I pushed the limit whenever I could. The side of me I never let anyone see, is that there are always some things I hold back. I have extreme ambition, and I hate not having my way. But there were some things... There were some things I simply had to keep secret. My games were simple to play, if you understood the rules, but I knew that some of my desires threatened the entire fabric of it all. There were some pieces of Kate Sanders that I could never let anyone see.
The lonliness and the boredom eventually got to me. I reached over and picked up my phone to give Ethan a call. When I asked him to come over, he asked if he could bring some friends along. I said sure. It's not like there was anyone around to tell me otherwise.
Claire, beside me, was grinning evilly as she listened to Lizzie's pathetic story. I sighed and quickly cut in, "You know, that's just peachy, McGuire, but do you think we could get this going sometime today?"
Lizzie rolled her eyes and abruptly stopped speaking. We had just been assigned a group project in Mythology. My group was responsible for the Greek gods and goddesses, and it consisted of Claire, Lizzie and Miranda.
"All right," said Lizzie. She glanced quickly at Miranda; they exchanged a brief look of understanding. I could tell they were both upset about being in a group with me. I grinned inwardly with the knowledge that they feared me. Lizzie continued. "Let's go ahead and divide up the research." She pulled out our rubric and started skimming down the list.
"Aren't you just a natural-born leader," Claire snarled. "I think we can divide the work up for ourselves, thanks." She snatched the paper from Lizzie's hand and leaned towards me. We looked over the list and chose what we wanted, and handed it back to her, leaving what was left for Lizzie and Miranda. Miranda pursed her lips to spit out one of her snappy retorts, but she stopped herself. She had always had a persistent attitude, but she had been extremely subdued since coming to high school. Some people just failed to live up to their own hype.
While we were supposed to be digging through encyclopedias, Claire and I discussed the details of our "glamorous" lives. I made a point to touch upon subjects, like Ethan and cheerleading, that I knew would get under Lizzie's skin. I snuck glances at her every now and again. Blonde strands of hair fell across her face, and her soft lips were trying to conceal a frustrated pout. I felt myself wishing I could just freeze time for a moment, so I could take a moment to examine the complexity of Lizzie's features. But that wasn't the way it worked. I had to avoid looking at her, had to make her feel like I was completely unaware of her existence.
"We'll have to meet afterschool one day," Lizzie interrupted. "To put everything together."
"We'll do at my house, naturally," I offered, careful not to even glance in her direction. "I certainly don't want to be caught dead in McGuire's neighborhood."
Claire laughed and nodded in agreement. I looked over and realized what she had been doing for the past few minutes; I had been so caught up in my thoughts I wasn't even paying attention to her. "Claire!" I snapped. She been drawing decorative hearts and stars all over my hand with a pink gel pen. I tried to rub it off. "I have to go the rest of the day with this mess all over my hand. Who writes on theirself, Claire?! How skanky."
Miranda shifted slightly in her seat, trying to conceal the history notes she had marked all over her own hand.
"Sorry," Claire mumbled. "I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing."
"I'll say you weren't."
The bell rang. Lizzie and Miranda gathered up their books quickly, obviously eager to get away from us. I pulled out my compact and re-applied my lip gloss. I glanced over and saw that Claire really did look sorry. "Ugh, quit looking so pitiful," I told her, snapping the compact shut and shoving it back into my bag. "It's not that big a deal. Let's try and go wash it off." She nodded and we left the classroom, flipping our hair as we turned the corner. I was pissed off at Claire for writing on me, but I couldn't really stay mad at my partner in evil. Besides, anger makes hideous wrinkles in my forehead.
* * * *
I got off the bus that afternoon and walked up the winding cobblestone sidewalk to my house. When I unlocked the door, I heard the echo of my entrance throughout the silent house. There was hardly ever a time when I didn't come home to an empty house. It was one of the feelings I detested more than anything else. Getting off a bus crowded with people and conversations, and then stepping into my house where I was completely alone, made my emotions plummitt. I craved socialization. I needed to be with people. Occasionally Amy was around, being the one who took care of me and all, but she was usually out with her friends.
I tossed my backpack in the middle of the floor. What did I care? It's not like I had a mother around to tell me not to leave things in the floor. Sometimes I wished I didn't have as much freedom as I did. I wanted my mother on my case all the time, asking me questions. I wanted her to want to know things about me. Keep track of who I was hanging out with. Ask me how my day was.
I slid onto my bed and wrapped my arm around one of my pink pillows. I never got used to the silence. Most people my age liked having time to themselves, but there was something in me that always itched to have people around. People fascinate me. If you pay close enough attention to them, you begin to see patterns in the way they act. You start to learn how to say exactly what people want to hear, or don't want to hear, as the case may be. If you understand people well enough, you'll know the things to do and say that will get them to feel however you want them to feel. That's what made me such a powerful person in the high school world. I knew people, I knew how all these games were played.
Of course, things weren't always perfect. No one's that good. There would always be some things out of my reach. I had to accept that, even though I pushed the limit whenever I could. The side of me I never let anyone see, is that there are always some things I hold back. I have extreme ambition, and I hate not having my way. But there were some things... There were some things I simply had to keep secret. My games were simple to play, if you understood the rules, but I knew that some of my desires threatened the entire fabric of it all. There were some pieces of Kate Sanders that I could never let anyone see.
The lonliness and the boredom eventually got to me. I reached over and picked up my phone to give Ethan a call. When I asked him to come over, he asked if he could bring some friends along. I said sure. It's not like there was anyone around to tell me otherwise.