C is for Caroline

2 | occasional well-spoken degradation of others

Okay, so I'm trying to figure out how to tell my story in a way that will make you like Caroline.

I obviously like her—the woman's my damn dream girl—but I can't lie...she's mean. Like, really fucking mean. And maybe I get off on that and just don't know it yet. I can't deny that her heartlessness does bring me some sort of strange pleasure... You see, Caroline is the kind of girl that doesn't give anyone the time of day unless they have something valuable to offer her in return for it (example: Caroline is feeling horny, and along comes Jeremy, offering up free sex. A match made in heaven. How could she say no to that?)

Well...pretty easily as you'll soon find out, but that's not the point of the story.

So, you're probably wondering how exactly I know Caroline, right?

Well, Caroline and I went to high school together.

We were in the same grade and so we graduated together (although I didn't really get to do as much 'graduating' as I did 'sitting-in-the-back-of-the-room-and-watching-my-entire-grade-graduate-without-me'). I wasn't allowed to walk during graduation since I was on probation for—well the reason's not important. What's important is that I had to receive my diploma before the ceremony and then watch bitterly from the back of the gymnasium as everyone else got an applause alongside their diploma.

This all happened two years ago (yep, class of 2014), and I can still remember in great detail the moment they called Caroline on stage. I'm pretty sure the entire audience took a collective gasp when she got up there because my God she looked hot.

And how does someone look hot in a shapeless gown that is way too blue for its own good you ask?

Easy. They don't wear it.

And so Caroline Machingaidze became the first person ever in the history of Roosevelt High to graduate wearing ripped black jeans and a grey crop top that, if you were wondering, was very cropped.

The principal was clearly surprised when he saw her walk onto the stage. His face got all red and I was sure he had some choice words for her, but what was he going to do? Not give her her diploma? Everyone was watching and she was already up there, so all he could do was give her a tight smile—which she did not return, might I add—and hand her the damn thing.

Caroline honestly looked like she couldn't have cared less as she accepted it. As if it didn't matter that she was making history in the most badass way possible because she could never get in trouble for it. I could have learnt a thing or two from her because I was dumb about my troublemaking, as you've probably already gathered since, as we know, I didn't get to graduate.

Throughout our four years in high school, I only talked to Caroline once—maybe twice. She didn't really bother herself with going out and making friends, and honestly, if I were her I wouldn't either because people just naturally came to her. Yes, she was uncompassionate and—if you crossed her—extremely cruel, but in high school, that was also the definition of coolness. Plus, in the right situations, she could be extremely funny.

She was the person people loved to hate, and it was even more frustrating because everyone knew that she didn't care if they hated her. Caroline openly hated everyone back anyway, so it didn't make much of a difference in her life. In fact, throughout the whole four years she only found one person that she seemed to genuinely like, and I guess she just didn't see the need to fake it with anyone else. Caroline and Anika Chopra became best friends somewhere around 10th grade and it confused the hell out of just about everyone.

It was interesting because the two of them were complete opposites and so it was hard to see how or why they vibed. I was always confused about their friendship since Anika was hands down the nicest person I'd ever met and Caroline was the kind of girl who would kill you after bad sex.