It All Started With A Tampon

(2)

I head home, deciding that I have suffered enough public humiliation for one day. I should count myself lucky. Usually, he would let everybody watch. I scrub harder, trying to get the lipstick off my face. I wash it down my sink, my bathroom a mess, tissues everywhere. Why did he have to use the good lipstick? 

At least no one is home, I didn't have to come up with an excuse of why I'm not at school. Not like anyone would care much. My parents like to act like I don't really exist, I distract them from there highly important doctor jobs, and I like to avoid my brother as much as possible. He goes to UCLA, but when he was home, he used to help Mark out. They're friends.

 I collapse on my bed, getting ready for no sleep, as I have to redo the notes, and do all the assignments. One more year. My senior year, and then I'm leaving. I've saved up, from working at Kenny's. It's a small diner, five minutes away, in a shady part of town. The staff there are like family, and it's great because no one at school would step foot in that part of town. I turn on my computer, and start the research. 

I'm so involved in the work, that I jump when my computer sounds. My email light dings, and I log on to my school email. My heart drops when I see it's from Mark. I open it, to find a picture of me, covered in lipstick, a tampon stuffed in my mouth. Someone must have screen shotted it from the video. Oh my god the embarrassment. I mean, I'm not exactly the most popular in the school, but nothing as public and as embarrassing as this. Under the picture, there's only one sentence.

'Do as you're told, follow orders, and the video won't go viral.'

You don't have to tell me twice.

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I work late, until about eleven. By then, I've done the minimum amount of work required not to get me toilet swirlied tomorrow, and I pack up, and head to the kitchen, starving. I grab some oreos, and start eating, spreading nutella in the middle first. I watch T.V, and keep eating. After watching a lot of Friends re-runs, I hear the door click open, and I look up to see my parents walk in. 

"Hi." I said.

"What are you doing up?" My mom demands, taking off her coat.

"Just watching T.V." I answer, sighing, knowing where this is going. My Dad storms over, and turns it off. 

"You should be doing homework." He says angrily. "Not wasting our time down here."

"I was just-"

"Stuffing your face as usual." My mother says, picking up the oreos. "Do you know how much sugar are in these? You're big enough, these aren't going to help." I look down, rolling my eyes. I'm not even surprised, I'm used to it. I weigh lower than the normal size for a girl my age, but it won't matter what I do, it will never be good enough for my family. My brother was the same, always ridiculing me, then justifying themselves, by saying it's what's best for me. 

"I finished all my work already." I say. "I'll just go to bed." They barely glance at me, as they walk into the kitchen. I wearily go back upstairs, and climb into bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.

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I yawn, as I finally leave English. I couldn't care less about narrative convention codes, I learnt them in year five and now I'm stuck in a class with kids who thought the capital city of Japan was Toronto. So many idiots, not enough rocks to to throw at them. It's only first period, and I'm exhausted. My dreamless sleep was interrupted pretty early, as the people who just moved in next door, decided it would be a good idea to throw a party, so I didn't get to sleep until about four, waking up at six. 

My day isn't going to get any better now, because English is the only class I don't have Mark in. I get to Calculus, and slump into my seat, resting my head on my arms, knowing I only have a couple of seconds. I realise I'm right, as my chair is kicked from behind me. Hello Mark. Glad you're here. Feel free to keep kicking me. NOT. 

I sit up, and start taking notes. Mark kicks my chair again, so I turn around to face him. He grins at me, and I just stare, annoyed. These notes are difficult, and I don't have time for this.

"Hi." He says, tapping his pen on his desk.

"Hi." I say, slowly. What is he up to?

"Our assignments are due to me by the end of the day." He says.

"I know." I whisper, glancing back at the teacher. "I've finished them all, there're in my locker."

"Good." He praises. "We will meet you there after school then." I nod, hesitantly. "Don't leave until we get there." 

"Ok." I say. I'm not sure what to do, so I just stare at him. This is so out of the ordinary.

"Well go on." He says. "Those notes aren't going to write themselves."

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The rest of the day goes on as usual, just more work, and more work. At lunch, I holed up in the library and have a nap. If those neighbours don't shut up tonight, I will literally explode. It's finally the end of the day, and I dump my stuff in my locker.

My locker is slammed closed, narrowly missing my hand. I hesitantly push up my glasses and look up, to find half the football team grinning at me. Right on time. 

"Hey Loser." Mark says. He's the school quarterback, and the ringleader of his little posse. "Here's my English assignment." He hands me all of his homework, and his team follows suit. I take down all the information they give me, like what grade they want, and when they need it done by. I shove it in my locker, and close the door, to find them all still standing there. I start to back away, not liking the look in Marks eyes. Before I can get away, Mark grabs my arm. 

'That's not all today." I groan, completely forgetting. I open my locker and grab their calc assignments and give them to Mark and Brian.

"Thanks." Mark says, putting it in his bag. "But that's still not all." I look at him curiously, slinging my bag onto my shoulder. Before I can react, him and Brian grab my arms and haul me forward, into the empty corridor ahead. They chuck me into the corner, and the whole team surrounds me. They grin at me, and I cower further away. 

"So Gemma.," Mark says. "You are going to run an errand for us." I snort, and laugh. 

"Why would I do that?" My eyes widen, realising what I just said. Shut up you idiot. Mark laughs, and hauls me to my feet. 

"Yes you will." He says. "Unless of course you want that video to go on facebook." He lifts my chin up with his finger. "And I have a lot of facebook friends." 

"Ok." I rush, as quick as you can. "Of course, Mark. Whatever you say." He smiles deviously. 

"Good."