The Good Girl Squad

Chapter 7

I woke up the next morning to my phone buzzing quite annoyingly. I lifted my head from my soft pillow and sighed, running a hand through my messy bed head.

Patricia: We're going to Rebecca's game after school. Don't make plans.

     I rolled my eyes at her abruptness. She was always like that.

Her abruptness was sharp like a knife. She could stab someone with it. Pierce straight through their chest. End their life with one slice. Make their beating heart turn into a dead, wilting kabob. Death. It's a weird word, when you think about it. Death. If you say it enough, it becomes almost meaningless. Death. Death. Death.

I'm being morbid, I know. It's that kind of day.

Anyways, after school, Patricia, Jasmine, Grace, and I marched our Mary Janes down to the game field for our last squad member.

     I was one step behind them, somehow they were always slightly faster. Always a step ahead. "What sport does she play?" I asked, struggling to keep up. My over the shoulder backpack was filled with books and hurt my arm. I switched shoulders.

     "Field hockey and lacrosse," Jasmine answered, straightening out her skirt. I could tell that there were a million other outfits she was mentally planning that she'd rather be wearing, like always. Who actually does like uniforms? Not I said the fly. Not me said the flee. I can't remember what comes next said the text. I'm hilarious.

     "What's the game today?" I asked.

     "The one with the cool canes, right?" Grace asked.

     "She means field hockey," Patricia corrected. I rolled my eyes. Oh, Grace. I had to say that she was growing on me. They all were. They were my best friends. At least, that's what I believed.

     "Why do they call it feel hockey? Do the players grope each other? But they're all girls. They can't all be lesbians, right? That'd be weird." I don't think I have to mention who said that. Grace started cracking up at her own conclusion, as she watched the girls warm up.

     "It's field hockey, Grace. F-I-E-L-D," I answered.

     "Oh, because they play it on a field! That's makes so much more sense."

     "Grace please stop talking. I can feel my brain cells dying," Patricia said. Jasmine and I laughed.

     We reached the bleachers. There were butt pads set up, four seats. I don't know who set them up or when, but they were for us apparently. We took our seats.

      A sophomore walked around selling bags of popcorn. I bought one and cracked it open, immediately bringing a handful to my mouth. I was starving.

     "You're really going to eat that?" Jasmine asked, eyeing the bag with disgust in her eyes.

     "Yeah, I'm hungry."  I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

     "Do you know how fattening that is?" Patricia said.

     "Who cares? It's delicious. What, do you guys only eat cotton balls, like on Scream Queens?" I laughed at my own comment. I crack myself up.

     They glared at me. Patricia knocked the bag out of my hands. It hit the floor and spilled out across the grass. Then they turned away, like clockwork.

I pouted, but didn't pick up the bag. It would only be knocked out again. I kicked the bag away from me. I guess it was too fattening. They were right. They were always right. I just had to follow Patricia's advice, and I would be fine. Right?

I felt someone staring at me. I looked up, and my eyes connected with Caesar's. He waved, and I smiled.

Patricia nudged me. "Who are you looking at?" She asked accusingly.

I didn't answer, just dropped my gaze, but it was too late. Patricia saw him. She glared daggers at him, her eyes like venom in a snake. Caesar gave her a goofy grin and wave. Patricia mouthed 'f*ck you' to my boyfriend. I clenched my lips together. The Good Girl Squad wasn't supposed to swear like a sailor.

Caesar rolled his eyes. Patricia whipped around to face me once again. "I told you to stop seeing him. You guys aren't dating are you?" She spit her words out, like they physically made her sick just thinking them, never mind speaking them aloud.

"No way. We hardly even know each other. He's weird," I lied through my teeth.

"Good." She looked at me like she didn't quite believe me.

I risked one last glance at Caesar. He winked, and I dropped my gaze. I wanted to talk to him badly. I wanted to sit with him, but I needed the squad. So I ignored him, like a good girl.

     I turned my attention to the field. Rebecca was racing across the grass gracefully to get to the ball. She blew by people like nobody's business. She even managed to look super photogenic while doing it. Only Rebecca. It was unfair how perfect she was. How perfect they all were.

     I felt my phone buzz. I looked down to see a text from Caesar. Patricia turned to look at me, but I flipped my phone over just in time. Sorry, Caesar, but you would be ignored for the time being.

     "Tomorrow after school we're going to my house to get ready for Homecoming," Patricia said, eyeing my phone suspiciously. I quickly nodded, a polite smile on my face.

     "Sounds fun. You have my dress, right? Is it pretty?"

     "I picked all of ours out myself, so of course," Jasmine said, smiling as if proud of herself and her work. Her fashion sense was something to be proud of, I'll give her that.

     "What color is mine?"

     "You won't know until you put it on tomorrow." She smirked secretively. I rolled my eyes. I really wanted to know.

     If I had any sense at all, I wouldn't have gone to that stupid homecoming dance at all. It was a mistake. The whole situation was a mistake. I regret it, but it happened. It all did.