Like To Be You ✓

two

Here's what I have on Miranda Alderson:

-Completely stoned most of the time

-Was a cheerleader in junior year but then got kicked off after she broke a girl's arm

-Wears kohl under her eyes to the extent that she faintly resembles a raccoon

-Has the same therapist as I do

So when she approaches me during lunch on Thursday, I'm slightly surprised but mostly dreading what's going to happen next. She used to be part of Obnoxious Group, and then wasn't. I'm glad she finally came to her senses (or whatever she had left of them after all that pot).

She simply stands next to my table for a few moments, looking somewhere into the distance. Zayne hesitantly bites into his burger, his eyes glued up to her face. He's probably on high alert, with the look in her big eyes and massive silver rings on her fingers.

"What are you doing?" I ask. She doesn't answer. I shrug and go back to my food, which consists of a green apple, two turkey sandwiches and a half-eaten bag of Cheetos.

Miranda starts clicking her nails to a rhythm on the table, and only now do I notice how long and scary they are. Her hands eerily resemble those of an animated witch-you know, the ones with mottled skin, a hooked nose, a mandatory mole on the chin. They're frail and veiny and look fully capable of strangling me to death.

What I do next only worsens the situation, though I do it out of good nature. I pull a can of orange soda out from my bag and hold it up to her.

"Looks, it's you." I jerk my head at the can, which is turned so the explosive word Mirinda faces her. She peers down at it, then swiftly turns towards Zayne, who's trying to muffle his laughter behind the two fries he's holding up.

The glare she's directing at him only intensifies by the rings of black kohl outlining her eyes. Zayne clamps a hand over his mouth and looks away, his body still shaking with laughter. Miranda resumes her extremely essential and fruitful duty of staring into the distance. The clicking of her fingernails increases, like when suspenseful music plays while the climax of a movie approaches. I wait for the words to spill out of her mouth; the punchline.

I couldn't have been more let down than with what comes next.

She stills, the clicking ceases, and then she intently stares at me. "You wanna come to a party? It's tomorrow, and you losers look like mediocre company."

Zayne and I plainly stare at this mess of a human.

"There's also weed." She adds, like it's a bonus that will convince us to say yes.

"Oh, fuck off." I pop open the tab of my soda and down a third of it in two large gulps.

"Okay." She shrugs and walks away.

I look at Zayne, who's raising his hands in a 'what the hell just happened?' gesture. I inwardly agree with him but continue eating. That is my current priority.

x

"So," Mr Blackwell begins, folding his hands together, "There's been a change in schedule. This class will now be shifted to last period." I lean back in my seat as Blackwell goes on and on about the shift in AP classes and assigns us our new schedules. I briefly look over mine and then fold the sheet and put it in my bag.

I'm disappointed, because now I have AP Chemistry and AP Calc as my last periods, both of which consist of my arch-rival: Tyler Big-Head. My temperamental self can only take so much of that... that thing.

Today, said thing is sitting in the seat next to mine. I am unhappy about it, and he knows it because there's a triumphant smile on his face.

My hands are itching to slap his pretty little face and leave a furious red handprint. He aggravates me, and his smug self is fully aware of it, which only aggravates me further and then it turns into this cycle where I'm ready to rage and he's bursting at the seams with complacent laughter.

I hate him. I truly do.

Talking about people I hate—

A paper-ball hits my shoulder. I turn around, only for another to harmlessly strike my ear. "At least try to aim right, egghead."

Titters arise around us.

"Is there a problem, Mr Mahajan?" Mr Blackwell raises a brown eyebrow at David Mahajan, certified homophobe and a despicable human with a misshapen oval head.

"Nothing, sir." He grins charmingly, and when Mr Blackwell turns his back to the us and starts explaining the trigonometric graphs on the board somebody had a doubt in, Egghead opens his nasty mouth again.

"Fâggot." He says low enough to the backbenchers to hear. Tyler turns around sharply and glares at David.

Well, that's a first. He usually doesn't pay attention to what anybody says in class.

"Dude, that's not cool." A guy's voice pipes up. The people around him send him dirty looks. He smirks proudly, ignorant to them. 

I pick up both of the balls he'd previously tossed and put them on my desk. I turn around and to David, as dumbly as I can, say, "What?"

"You're a fâggot." He says with more clarity now.

"I'm a what?" I feign obliviousness.

"Fâggot." Egghead says loud enough for Mr Blackwell to turn around and slam the Bullshit Book on the table. We all flinch.

"Mr Mahajan," Blackwell grits his teeth and says, "what is the next step?" He points to the half-solved equation behind him on the board.

I watch, amused, as Egghead fumbles for an answer. His eyes dart from the board to Blackwell's stoic face.

"Uh... you, uh, divide both sides by cos?" he finally says.

"Wrong." Mr Blackwell purses his lips while I furrow my brows. "Detention for you, Mahajan. I'm out of slips so go get some from the reception." He points towards the door. "And don't slink off. I have eyes everywhere."

Seething, Egghead pushes past me forcefully. I take the two paper-balls and aim them at his back. When they hit the target, the class erupts into snickers. Next to me, Tyler says, "Bye."

Egghead glares at me and slams the door behind him.

I cast Tyler an odd look, and he looks back at me, gaze unwavering. Scowling, I continue glaring at him till he wistfully shakes his head and shifts his gaze to the front.

"So," Mr Blackwell spins back to the board and uncaps his marker. "You divide both sides by cos, and then they all get cut." He makes two slashes over the values.

I smile to myself.

o-o-o