Going Under (Going Under 1) - Page 5

I was self sufficient, but not because I was bestowed with the motivation of being an overachiever. I called it being genetically motivated, which meant I didn’t have a single family member that gave a damn enough to do anything for me. Earl, my boss at the garage, was the only person in my life that had ever helped me with anything and he felt more like family to me than the woman I was genetically tied to.

As I got closer to East Franklin High School, I dreaded the stares I’d get when the rich kids saw my old truck parked next to their expensive beamers and benzes. They’d probably see my ride and move their vehicles out of fear their luxury cars might catch something from my old jalopy.

I didn’t really couldn’t care less about what people thought of me, but it pissed me off when they thought they were better than me, so I expected problems at this school. It was over populated with doctors’ and lawyers’ kids after the school board redistricted to send the trailer park kids on the South side to Collinsville and replace them with kids from the neighborhoods on the North side of Franklin. I’m not even sure that’s legal, but it’s what they did five years ago when the new school was built.

It was by accident alone that I would be attending East Franklin since I was forced to move in with Rita during the summer, and although I’m certain they wouldn’t have a problem with releasing me, Collinsville High School refused to take me back without tuition because we lived just within East Franklin’s school district.

We didn’t have the money for tuition and Rita wouldn’t part with it for me if she had a million dollars. She made it very clear I was unwelcome and the only reason she allowed me to stay was because I agreed to move her merchandise for her. When I graduated, I would promptly be shown the door. The feeling was mutual, so she didn’t have to worry about it hitting me on the way out. She treated me just like my mom, Twyla, had my entire life and I wasn’t plagued with wondering where my mom learned her amazing parenting skills.

I shoved the thoughts of my mother out of my mind and pulled into the parking lot of my new school. I parked on the second row and turned off my truck’s deafening motor in need of a new muffler. Come payday, I’d have to come off the wallet if Earl couldn’t find a decent used one at the junkyard.

I didn’t want to admit it because I saw it as weakness, but my nerves were rattled, so I lit a cigarette before I was forced to enter the gates of my new personal hell. While I sat in the refuge of my truck smoking a much needed stress reliever, I watched the returning students around me as they met up in the parking lot. As expected, they got out of anything from tiny two-seater sports cars to gigantic sport utilities I couldn’t afford to fill with gas.

My truck’s clock was busted, so I looked at my watch and saw I had ten minutes until my official day of torment started. I wondered if I had time to squeeze in one more cigarette after I finished the one in my hand and as I took a long drag, I watched a fancy white Lexus pull into the parking spot behind me.

I watched my rearview mirror to see what a high schooler driving a Lexus might look like and I wasn’t shocked when I saw it was a couple of cheerleaders I’d seen during football practice-one of them being Forbes Henderson’s girlfriend.

The friend looked more like a Barbie than the Mattel doll herself. She had long blond hair and a pair of killer legs in a short denim skirt exaggerated by a pair of tall wedge heels. As I wondered how she would get away with a skirt that short on school grounds, she straightened it and gained a little length, but not enough to pass inspection where I came from. I was use to strict rules-it’s how they kept the barbarians in check.

Henderson’s girlfriend had on a short, ivory floral dress with a long, peach-colored scarf around her neck and a pair of weathered brown boots I assumed were made by some designer I had never heard of. Damn. A chick in a dress with boots was hot so it was too bad this one was taken, but because she was his girlfriend, it let me know a little about who she was as a person. She was with the enemy and therefore against me by association.

With the enemy or not, these girls weren’t like the ones I was used to at my old school. Chicks like these were untouchable for someone like me and I could picture the Barbie incarnate giving me the two finger salute over her forehead in the shape of an L to remind me of my loser status.

When I saw Henderson’s girl in my rearview mirror walking toward my driver’s door, I tossed my cigarette butt out the window and felt an overwhelming need to jack with her. Okay. Maybe I just wanted to talk to her and see her up close to convince myself she wasn’t all that. With perfect timing, I swung my door open to prevent her from passing. This was going to be fun.

4 Princess

Claire

We pulled into the parking lot of the school and Payton parked behind the sexy badass’ junked out truck. He was still sitting in his old clunker and I thought I saw a cigarette in his hand, then he confirmed my suspicion when I saw him raise it to his lips for a drag and the tip glowed fiery orange. Gross.

“Why did you have to park behind him?” I huffed as I felt heat rise to my neck and face.

“What’s your deal with him, Claire?” she asked, then looked at me and said, “You’re face is beet red. What is wrong with you? Are you blushing?”

Getting out of the car at the same time meant walking into school next to him and that wouldn’t make Forbes happy. Payton didn’t understand the ruckus this would cause because she didn’t have a boyfriend and it didn’t help matters that she couldn’t stand Forbes. She thought I was weak and trying to please him, but the truth was that I just didn’t feel like hearing Forbes whine anymore.

“I want to avoid the need to explain to Forbes why I’m walking into school with the guy he hates. It will just start an unnecessary argument I don’t want to have first thing this morning.”

“With the risk of repeating myself, screw Forbes. I’m not parking in the back of the parking lot and walking an extra mile to spare his insecure feelings and if you have to explain that, then you should dump his ass.”

I knew she was right. I was a poodle jumping through hoops to keep the peace and it was ridiculous in addition to exhausting.

“I’m not arguing how ridiculous it is, but can we at least get ahead of him so I don’t have to explain why we’re walking in together?” I pleaded.

She huffed and said, “This is friggin’ ridiculous, you know that, right? Your life might revolve around what Forbes Henderson wants, but mine doesn’t.”

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