"Hey you, Poindexter, nerd girl!"
"Huh? Are you talking to me?"
"Yeah, she's talking to you, teachers pet!"
"Like, we're tired of you making us look bad, you shouldn't even be here, this class is for seniors."
"I'm sorry Brittany, but they put me in this class because I knew everything in the sophomore class."
"I think she was calling you stupid, Brittany."
"Heather, you might be right. You're making us Seniors look bad, and you really need to stop," she demanded.
"I could tutor you, if that would help."
"O-M-G, Heather, I think she's totally calling us dumb!"
"That's not the case at all."
"Save it, nerd! Oh and I think I heard she was dating some chick, Brittany."
"So you're a smart lesbo, huh? Think that makes you special?"
"No, not at all, actually I'm not a-"
"Not as smart as you think you are, duh, I can see that," she guffawed. "You think you're so smart, doesn't matter… you're still just a faggot."
"Hey!"
"You need to like; chill the fuck out, before you really piss her off, don't you know Brittany is the cheerleader captain? Not that smart are you?"
"Thinks she's Ellen or something," Brittany laughed, "get yourself together if you know what's good for you… or the whole squad is going to make your life hell."
"What did I even do to you?"
"Shut it, before we do something to you," Brittany poked her in the head, "and your little girlfriend."
Marcie grumbled, turning away.
"You wanna go right now, Ellen," Brittany threatened.
"Shh… the teacher just came in, Brittany."
"So, how's you and Charlie," Frieda asked.
"Still great, I love him so much, you and Schroder still good?"
"Yeah, we rounded third base," she grinned mischievously."
"Really?! Oops… sorry ma'am… nothing to share."
"Sorry ma'am."
"What, no, I'm fine… why's my face red… I'm on the you know."
"She was asking me for a you know what, ma'am. Sorry for the disruption," Frieda handed her a tampon.
Once the teacher turned back to the white board, Frieda leaned closer; "girl he knows more than just playing the piano," she whispered.
"You harlot," she whispered back.
"You don't know what your missing. I'm sure Charlie wants to do it too."
"We're taking it slow, enjoying each others company, accepting that we even happened."
"You'll really enjoy the company once it happens," she winked.
Lucy got redder, "ma'am, can I go to the bathroom, please… thank you."
She ran to the nearest bathroom, locking herself in a stall, trying to calm down.
"I wish I was on my period for once," she muttered, staring at the tampon in her hand, "trust me Charlie; I want it as bad as you do, I wish I was as patient as you are. I'm not that kinda girl. I bet he could play me like that guitar."
She opened the tampon, staring at it for a moment.
"It's all plastic," she whispers.
Two girls walked up to the bathroom door, reaching for the handle, stopping at the sound of groaning, looking at each other. The sound turned guttural, backing them up, before a bang sent them running for another bathroom.
"You did what?!"
"It's you're fault, you made me think about it, now hush."
"Look there's Patty," Frieda strutted over.
"Don't you say shit," Lucy chased.
"Frieda, Lucy, whassup?"
"Not much, just going to next period," Lucy explained.
Frieda chortled, Lucy rolled her eyes.
"Umm… Well I was thinking…"
"So yeah, we were about to go in that bathroom by Ms. Craigs room and there was screaming and banging, it was so weird," some girl walked by.
Frieda burst out in laughter, Patty was confused, Lucy was red and embarrassed.
"Auugh," she screamed, walking off.
"Lucy! Lucy, what is it?! Why are you laughing?"
"Okay, don'tsayanythingbutthatgirlwastalkingaboutLucymasturbatinginthebathroomwithatampon," she exploded with laughter, chasing after Lucy, "Lucy wait!"
"Huh," Patty stared, confused.
"You think I should get a motorcycle, Chuck," Peppermint Patty wondered.
"A motorcycle? Aren't they-"
"It would be cool, right?! Wind in my hair, Marcie wrapped around me. You think she'd like that?"
"She doesn't seem-"
"I'm sure she'd love the idea, plus the vibrations from sitting at a light, on some monster of a Harley."
"Trish! Your dad is not going to let you have a bike."
"Oh sure he-"
"And I really doubt Marcie would agree, or ride on it," he glared.
"Damn… you're right, Chuck. Would be hard to do it on a bike anyway, the bed of my car is plenty comfy."
Charlie grew red in the face, "good grief, I'm going to class," he walked away.
"Watch it, four-eyes," Brittany shoved Marcie.
"You had to do it again," Heather drove her finger in to Marcie's forehead, knocking her glasses down.
"There's no need to be degenerates," Marcie growled.
"What," Brittany whipped around.
Her and her friends surrounded her.
"You're acting pretty tough, for some lone little mouse," Brittany got in her face, "anything else you wanna say to us degenerates?"
"We're going to be late for class, if you'll excuse me," she tried to walk away.
"We're cheerleaders, fuck class," Heather yelled.
Some other cheerleader yanked her by her backpack, and another grabbed her glasses.
"There's no need for this shit," Marcie cried.
"You are messing up the grave curve, you and the other nerd," Brittany held out her hand.
"Then talk to them!"
"Oh we are, or our boyfriends."
The girl handed her Marcie's glasses.
"Since you're in such a hurry to learn; let's see how you do without these," she broke her glasses.
"Oh, good one, funny," one said.
They started laughing, catching Violet's attention, she turned, watching them walk away, each one bumping, or shoving Marcie.
"Shit. Aren't we supposed to be friends, what should I do?"
Marcie stood there a moment trying to focus with a sigh, before trying to make it to her class.
"Hey, Marcie, you need a hand?"
"Violet?"
"Yeah, Marcie, want some help?"
"I just got to get to my locker for my spare glasses."
"What was all that about," she held her hand.
"It's nothing I can't handle, Violet."
"They broke your glasses didn't they, I saw the end of it."
"It's fine, I can assure you."
"You want me to say something to them?"
Marcie sighed, "look… there's nothing to worry about."
"They say I'm arrogant," Violet muttered.
"I'm blind, not deaf."
"Sorry, I'm just trying to help you."
