Everyone has one, a secret fantasy. The bad boy sitting at the back of Math class, tossing pencils and paper planes around the class, that is, when he deigns to grace us with his presence. We stare at him out of the corner of our eyes, watching every little move seemingly coated with oh so sexy badness, every lewd comment tossed our way greeted with a roll of the eye and a smatter of giggles from your robots. . . . I mean friends, while secretly filed away to be viewed later on like old love notes. Everyone has one, but I never knew I did, until he kissed me. It was unexpected, I kissed him first actually, surprising both myself and him in the process but it just felt so unbelievably right, there was nothing else to do. In that day alone I had yelled at him, cried because of him, called him every single name on the face of the planet and almost let him get to third base. It's insane right? I mean, me, the Princess and pretty much ruler of Shermer High falling for its resident bad boy, well, why not? Everything else got turned on its head, God, I never realized detention could cause that much of an impact. Like I said before, everything seemed so perfect that Saturday, everything in its place, what would happen on Monday, when everybody was all back together, smushed in with a thousand other hormone-fueled teenagers like some demented can of sardines. Sometimes I wish, I could go back to Saturday, when everything was right for the first time in my life, freeze everything at that one unbelievable moment when I kissed the bad boy.
I stared around my wide expanse of a room, glaring at the pink frills and ribbons scattered along the floor. God, does everything I own look like the icing from some retarded giant's birthday cake? I kicked at a particularly fluffy pink number with one naked foot, unearthing a swath of black. I dropped to my knees and picked up the garment. It was a black dress, the neckline cut out in a deep 'V', little cap sleeves and reaching to just over the knees. Perfect, I thought with a grin. Well, not exactly, considering the wind howling outside my window like some maniacal banshee, I decided that a dress might not be the smartest option, so I slipped on a pair of leggings underneath and after a slight loss of faith in my new appearance; I added a baby blue sweater. Shrugging into it, I berated myself at sliding back into my old ways. Can't expect me to change completely in one day, I argued. In a flash of inspiration, I grabbed an old duffel bag and filled it quickly with some of my less pink pieces of clothing, what the hell, I thought, daddy will just buy me more. Again, I berated myself that was precisely the kind of thinking I wanted to get away from.
My wooden boot heels clicked woodenly against the dull marble of the school hallways, all around me, conversation buzzed like too many bees shoved into one bee's nest.
"Claire!" someone called. In a rush of pink silk and bottle blonde hair, Denise Sawyer rushed up to me and latched onto my free arm.
"You'll never guess what I just heard" she giggled, flipping her blonde locks over one shoulder. Giving my new look a quick up-and-down, a frown creased her forehead. I inhaled sharply, waiting for the gale of recrimination for dressing below my station. Instead her brow smoothed back and she grinned wide and false.
"Claire, hon, I love the new look. It is so hip, so cool" She picked at her Versace shirt,
"All this pink is so last season" I stared at the blonde girl, trying to decide if she was mocking me or not, but her expression was so full of need to please that it was impossible to think she was. I continued on my way, barely acknowledging her presence.
"Right, so, back to what I just heard. Janey just told me that Mary told her that Andrea said that her brother saw Andrew Clark kiss that weirdo girl, Allison something at school on Saturday." Her barely contained mirth threatened to spill over and she stared at me, with eyes dancing with malicious glee.
"Can you believe? God, by the time this makes the rounds, he'll never be able to walk into this school again." I stopped in the middle of the hall, filled with sudden rage, Denise kept walking and almost yanked my arm out of its socket, but I didn't care. She came back to face me, bewildered.
"Claire, what's wrong?"
"Are you a bitch on purpose or does it just come naturally to you?" Denis giggled nervously
"Sorry?"
"When are you people gonna realize that you can't mess around with people like this?"
"Claire, are you alright?" I pulled my arm viciously out of her grasp.
"I'm fine, now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be" I hurried away before she could stop me, adrenaline surging through my veins, anger pumping in my temples. I rushed through the halls, heels clicking along to my heartbeat. I stopped only when I reached Allison, standing nervously in front of her homeroom, wearing the clothes she had worn after our little makeover experience, glancing at the crowd of people staring at her, anything but oblivious to them.
"Allison" I said, running up to her. She flinched backwards, almost as if expecting a physical blow.
"Claire" she said uncertainly, "What's up?"
"I have something for you" I offered the duffel bag, which she took with a small tremor; I gave her a small smile.
"It won't bite, don't worry" She unzipped the bag and peered inside.
"Clothes?"
"Yeah, I just figured if you wanted to keep up the new look, you might need something to keep it up." Allison looked up at me with the look of a girl to whom surprises came few and far between.
"Thank you" I laid a hand on her shoulder.
"It's no sweat. Look, I'll see you later, okay?" Allison nodded, seemingly unable to talk.
"Okay" I turned on my heel to walk back to homeroom. Today was the first day of the new Claire, it was time for a change.