Promises Made, Promises Broken - SYTYCW (Bad Reputation)

Present Day (Chapter Four) Saturday

Tucker

My alarm had malfunctioned yet again and the majority of the prime locations at the Student Market were taken.  The most coveted spots were the ones on the outside because they were the biggest and got the most traffic.  The ones in the middle of the market were practically stacked on top of each other, and only the customers who wanted to make an actual effort would reach the area.  That's where I was stuck.  But as I put the finishing touches on my table, I began to think I'd had a small stroke of luck.  The vending space beside mine was empty.  If it stayed that way, I'd have considerably more room to move around, and maybe even get away with using the extra table.  

I was just stacking the last of my pamphlets in a tidy pile when my whole table shook.  I groaned as the pile teetered and slid sideways onto the grass.

"Oops, sorry." The voice made me cringe.

I picked up the pieces of paper and braced myself to face the girl who I knew would be attached to the apology.  I plastered a smile on my face.

"Oh my God! Chipper!" squealed Amber, and then she giggled. "Oh no. I just realized I don't even know your real name. How terrible. How long has it been?"

Not long enough, I thought immediately, but kept my smile in place.

"Since high school," I answered.

I automatically inventoried my former classmate's appearance.

She hadn't changed much.  Her brown hair now boasted a few blonde highlights, and her make-up was a little more sophisticated, but aside from that, she looked like the same right-side-of-town snob.

It took serious effort to keep from curling my lips in disgust.

In the back of mind my, I knew I should've left all of those feeling behind the second I crossed the stage for graduation.  But looking at her perky face brought back a lot bad memories.  She was one of a big group of kids who refused to accept me because of where I came from, who were never able to see past my postal code and accept that I had the brains to attend the upper class high school.  

"Chipper?"

The nickname topped my list of reasons to never forgive or forget.

"I was just saying I never understood where that came from," she replied. "No offence, but you never seemed all that chipper to me."

I assessed her expression carefully.  Had she really forgotten the clothes that never measured up? The years of torment?  I couldn't easily dismiss my own feelings about it, but I had been in the receiving end.  Maybe it never really mattered to Amber at all.  Or maybe it didn't occur to her the experience had been traumatizing for me.

Just something else to occupy her time.

Her eyes were wide, and she was smiling innocently at me.

"Buck teeth," I muttered.

"Pardon me?"

I decided not to elaborate.

"It's Tucker," I said.

"Oh." She sounded like she didn't know quite what to do with that information.

I decided to change the subject.  I gestured to small bin she'd set down on her table.

"So…What are you selling?"

Amber giggled. "I'm not selling anything."

Right. It would just be silly of me to assume that you were selling something. At the market.