Ozwald

Chapter 2

2

The man of understanding finds everything laughable –Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Rebecca was short with long, greasy hair. She always wore boots of some kind, even in the summer. She wore a pair of leather boots during first period one day, and when it started raining she changed into a pair of rain-boots lined on the inside with the fabric from her dog’s old rainbow snuggie. During first period on Monday, though, the monday after Anne’s wedding, she was wearing a pair of awesome converse knee-high lace up boots. She had her dark almost-blue black hair curled up in tight coils that fell stiffly from her head and ended at her shoulders. Makeup was lightly slathered on to her eyes and mouth, as well as the whole layer of concealer and foundation that was probably packed on her cheeks and chin. I’d learned not to notice that stuff, it was better when I didn’t, because when I did I usually made some comment that accidentally hurt her feelings. Once she feels more confident and stops reapplying her eyeliner every ten seconds I could totally picture her being the cool city scene girl, maybe even modeling, not because of her face but because of how she wears things and her air. 

When I stepped into first period, twenty seconds early, I saw her there, with her boots and tight black leggings and large red button up plaid, and I didn’t even sigh. In front of her was Ozwald, and I had my eyes glued. As soon as the bell rang he got up to go to the bathroom, and that’s when Rebecca took her chance. The teacher was giving us a period to work in groups on worksheets, so there wasn’t a chance Mr. Math-teacher would catch her. 

“I hear there was a little commotion between you and blue-hair at the wedding.” she drawled. I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Tell me again why I wasn’t invited.”

“I’m sorry, I really wish I could have invited you. It would have been so much better.” I sighed. 

“I don’t think it had anything to do with the budget if Ozwald was there.” she said flatly.

“My parents said no, I can’t convince them on anything.” I stated truly. “Now, I’d like to ask how in the world you found out that he was there and what you heard happened.”

“Marcia was there catering.” she sniffed. Ah, right. Marcia. The most awesome older sister who just happens to be a total gossip and sometimes a bitch. But still cool. “I heard you totally were getting molested by him so you jumped out of your dress and into the river, then he dragged you out and totally felt around your stomach and brought you into the house and raped you.”

“That,” I replied, “is not true.”

“Figured. Now give me the real story.” she demanded. I sighed.

“Well, he came and said hi and I made a complete idiot of myself talking to him by telling him his crotch was ‘cyan’ and then I tripped and rolled down a hill and started drowning in the river until my straps got stuck and he ripped me loose and the top part of my dress fell down and he preformed the heimlick maneuver. Then he carried me inside and helped me put a shirt on and then jumped out of the window.”

“Wow.” Rebecca commented. Then she confirmed, “You were wearing a bra, right?”

“She was.” someone said. We both looked. And there he was, the pervy super-ninja. Then he clarified, “It was white.”

“You are such a pervert, no wonder I believed that you raped her.” Rebecca bluntly admitted.

“No, no no. I would never do such a thing as rape someone, to invade someone’s privacy under any circumstances would be completely inhumane.” He stated hypocritically. 

“But you completely invaded my privacy.” I pointed out.

“Yes, yes, but that was looking only.” he declared.