A story where a boy meets a girl. Where secrets and lies are always exposed and where the past comes out to play.
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"Alexandra, were you just checking me out?"
"I'd much rather shit in my hands and clap."
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"Welcome to Hellington High School," read the sign pasted against the entrance door to the school. I chose to read it as,"Welcome to Hell."
I don't know about you, but I find that quite fitting. I was never very fond of school. It was all quite pretentious to me. For years on years you're stuck in the same class with the same obnoxious people and every once in a while you're joined by a new kid. I'm my case, I was the new kid.
I'd never had the opportunity to attend any high school while raising my daughter. I was homeschooled since I was thirteen for obvious reasons. No one really wants to be responsible for a teenager going into labour right in the middle of a math test.
But this year, my senior year, was going to break the cycle of continuously staring at my computer, because it was time for the real high school experience. You know, the make friends, cut a mean girl, meet a cute boy and fall in love kind of experience. Minus the falling in love part.
The butterflies in my stomach were not subsiding. In fact the closer I got to the front office, the more nauseated at the thought of high school I became. Deep breaths.
Finally building up the courage, I make my way to the front desk expecting to be met by a frail old woman, named Esther, with early on-set rheumatoid arthritis and smells of gingerbread men, but instead, I was surprised to be met by a Legally Blonde doppelgänger. I'm talking bleach blonde bimbo. Hair extentions that ran down her back, long hot pink acrylic nails and a tight-fitting baby pink wrap dress, that I'm pretty sure breaks every dress code rule set up by the school district. I'm honestly to see that her cleavage hasn't tried to suffocate her yet. It's just so...there.
She wore a small name tag that read ''Patricia''. I clear my throat to get her attention, to which she just ignores me and continues playing her game of Minesweeper.
At this point I've murdered her and planned out her entire funeral in my head, but instead of freaking the fuck out, I suck in a deep breath of air and maintaining my ever-present expressionless face I ring the small desk bell in front of me. Incessantly.
I start noticing a slight crease in her brow. A dead giveaway that she's becoming irritated and quickly. I feel the corners of my lips begin tug upwards. I am a self-proclaimed sadist. I start noticing little eye twitches, leg shaking and heavy breathing. Is Patty mad?
