Me, Me & You

Chapter 3

Several weeks passed. High school no longer intimidated me. I never doubted my path to classes, didn't hesitate at intersections, and knew my locker combination without having to check my phone. Even though I was a freshman, Archie and I saw each other three times a day—mornings, after school, and art class, a drawing class we signed up for in hopes of getting the same slot, a gamble that paid off.

The first few weeks of art were uneventful—mere basics, ritualistic drawing of shapes and an introduction to perspective.

After a scuffle of argument as students fought over stools with even legs, the teacher, Mrs. Hong, piped gentle, classical music into the room through an old boombox on her desk. The teacher allowed us to speak as we worked, but only in hushed tones. Better yet, without assigned seating in the art class, we could set up wherever there was an easel, which meant I could talk with Archie. It was an awesome perk, and most people followed these rules out of fear of losing them. Perhaps that is why the girls behind us drove me and Archie nuts.

"Is there a higher-level course? This is too easy," a girl complained to her friends for the third time that week. I saw Mrs. Hong frown and I knew why: not only was the girl annoying but I once snuck a glance of her work—her pyramid lopsided and the shading was all wrong. In my opinion, she was in the right course with the rest of us. I made eye contact with Archie and rolled my eyes. He snickered.

"'I'm so amazing,'" he mimicked quietly so only I could hear. "'I'm an unrecognized genius.'" He brushed aside his imaginary long hair.

My shoulders shook with laughter. "Twiggy's still at it." I used our codename for the talker. Her enablers we dubbed Teeth and Vampire for their craggy teeth and goth aesthetic respectively.

"One more time, and I eat this charcoal." He held up a black-grey stump of charcoal with darkened fingers.

"If you do, you'll—."

Twiggy chimed, "I already know this stuff from drawing my manga. You know, the one I post online. It's super popular."

I lost it. I buried my face into my arm to muffle my laughing. My torso shook as Archie mimed tossing the charcoal in the air, catching it in his mouth, and swallowing it.

"Uh, excuse me, but are you laughing at my friend?"

Archie whispered something to me, but I couldn't hear him as the shrill voice repeated itself.

"Excuse me?!"

Both Archie and I twisted on our stools to see if we were the targets. It was Teeth. Crap.

"Who? Me?" Archie jabbed a finger into his chest.

"I mean, yeah? And whatever it is beside you."

I raised my eyebrows.

Teeth scrunched up her face in distaste. "Who else can I be talking about? You're making fun of my friend, and I do NOT like it when people talk about my friends, okay? I'm a loyal bitch if nothing else. What the fuck is your problem?"

"Okay!" The teacher piped in. "That's enough! Keep it down. Nobody's laughing at anyone in here. Let's keep the conversation to a minimum, starting now."

Archie and I turned to face forward, but I could feel their eyes on me, looming over me. When class ended, something smacked against my back. With some surprise, I looked up to see Teeth's retreating back. She'd gone out of her way to smack me on her way out of the classroom.

Teeth didn't stop there, though, and she targeted my hair ribbons next.

First, I need to explain the drama that is "My Hair." Junior high was my awkward stage. My dull-looking hair made me look like a drowned rat or like I never showered (though I definitely did). Only after watching a Youtube video did I learn about conditioner—apparently not all conditioner is "leave-in." I guess my mom never showed me the right way to rinse.