On a Monday

11:38 am

Philadelphia PA

Ronald McDonald sat at his usual table, staring at his female tablemate. Her blonde hair was wavy today, her nose in a book, her back brace making her look trapped in a cage. The flightless bird stuck in the metal cage, Mac thought metaphorically.

"Are you staring at me?" Dee asked, using a dry tone. She was one of those people who you couldn't pick a mood from her voice. It was one of the few qualities she liked. Not just tone wise, but the way she spoke in general.

Mac changed the subject. "What the fuck are you reading 1984 for? It's 1996, Sweet Dee. Keep with the times."

"It's a school assignment, dumbdick." Dee perked up. "It's actually really good! There's technology we haven't even come close to-"

"Whatever. It's not like we'll be reading it 10 or 20 years from now."

Dee shrugged. If she were a teacher, (which sounded like hell; kids were sticky assholes) her students would read 1984. There were some significant lessons to be learned, if the kids were smart enough. Dee was one to talk, though. She wasn't reading, though; she was musing over the past 2 years.

Dee Muses in an Angsty Fashion

By the end of freshman year, Dee had become suicidal. She would starve herself some nights and cut herself every night. Her mother, Barbara, was no help to Dee's self worth. Looking back, she wasn't even fat; she wasn't as thin as she was now, but certainly not fat.

Over the summer, Dee had conflicting thoughts; part of her said to die already. It wasn't like anyone would miss her and she already gave up on any religious beliefs. Something kept her away from it. Suicide would be how Nikki Potnic and those assholes would win and the Aluminum Monster would lose. Dee was not one to lose without a fight.

So she shed her frumpy exterior in favor of a cooler look. She gave up the innocent look and went for a more rebellious look. She learned to apply eye makeup and give good hand jobs. She went to parties, one in which she had the best make out session of her life. She swore and drank more, building a resistance to both. Her cuts faded, becoming lines only she saw. Sophomore year was much easier, especially because, over the summer, she developed confidence and new friends through Charlie and Mac.

Was she suicidal? No. Did she hate herself? No. Did she love herself? Not necessarily. Dee was able to live with herself. An occasional self harm here or there, a sobbing letter to her diary filled with insults, a stolen can of beer from Mrs. McDonald; those were her coping methods when her stupid self was too hard to take. The insults she was called were always true, other than "slut" or something like that. She realized her faults, but the fact she just rarely cared kept her sane.

Dee heard a familiar voice enter her and Mac's near silent table, save for his chewing and her page turning. "Greetings," Charlie cheerfully half screamed, handing them each an envelope. Mac's envelope said "Mak" and Dee's said "Swet D".

"What the shit is this?" Mac asked.

"They're invitations," Charlie said, deflating his expression and voice like a balloon, as his voice sped up. If Dee was the master of the poker face, Charlie was the miserable newbie. "I'm having a birthday party. It's Saturday at my house. All our friends are invited."

"What friends?" Mac and Dee said at the same time.

"You know, like…," Charlie looked on the next invitation, "Fatty McGoo." Charlie had tried to write "Ingrid" on her envelope, but had misspelled it as "Engred". Mac was secretly proud for Charlie's sake. No one else would call Fatty McGoo by anything but Fatty, Fat Ass, or just poke the invitation between her fat rolls.

"Whatever, alright? My mom won't be there, you're the first people I invited, other than-"

"OK, I'm going to stop you there," Dee said, holding her hand to stop Charlie, "did you mean you invited us before Dennis?"

"Well, I haven't seen Dennis yet," Charlie said. He and Dennis always met under the bleachers when people weren't around. Dennis was more popular than Charlie and was clearly ashamed of his friendship with the gang.

This was misinterpreted by his other friends. "Charlie likes us more than Dennis," Dee explained to Mac, who replied with a "Nice" and a high five. Dee was right; they accepted Charlie more than Dennis does. Mac was his friend since the days they both went to Catholic school and Dee just needed someone to talk to. Nonetheless, they were a lot nicer than Dennis usually was.

"That's not what I-," Charlie started, but decided it was fruitless, "OK, yeah, whatever. I like you guys more than Dennis."

Mac internally smiled, knowing he was still Charlie's best friend. Who else would he throw rocks or grow beards with?

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Dee went in the opposite direction of Mac and Charlie, going to the bathroom before her next class.

#

In the ladies room mirror, there was a note stuck to her back brace. It typically said something like "aluminum monster", but something compelled Dee to read it anyway. It could be something good for once or push her back to complete loserdom. Either way, she was feeling adventurous.

It read Meet me in Bonnie's room at the party. 8:30. It'll be worth it. PS.

Dee's first thought was "Who the fuck was PS?" It probably wasn't a gag from Mac or Charlie; the handwriting was too nice to be from them. Dennis wasn't even aware of Charlie's party yet, ruling him out. Shit, he didn't even know Charlie's birthday was coming up. It wasn't likely another popular boy or girl either, since they, like Dennis, didn't know Charlie was having a party or Ms. Kelly's real name. Maybe PS was supposed to add more, but forgot? Like, PS: Ditch the brace? It was probably safe, but Dee would bring pepper spray just incase.

Do you think I made Dee a little angsty? It's a master plan I have :)

And if your worried, trust me; Frank comes into play.