The Notorious R(uth) B(arakat) G(rimaldi)

Chapter 36: Ruthie Has a Bad Day

Ruthie knew it wasn't going to be a good day when she dropped one of her favorite earrings down the drain in the morning before school.

"Fuckety fuck fuck," she muttered, looking at herself in the mirror.

Her premonitions seemed to be borne out throughout the day.

"First of all, this weather, I mean, my god, why? I look like I stuck my finger in a fucking socket, look at my hair!"

It was a typical March day in Warren. The sun hadn't made an appearance in weeks, and it was so damp that, if Ruthie let cleaning up after Amal Clooney's piles in the yard go for a few days, she was more likely than not to find them with mold growing on them.

"This does nothing to enhance them, I assure you," she'd told Elliott dolefully.

"I mean," she continued as she walked to her locker before first period, "if it's going to rain, then fucking rain already. What the fuck's up with this fucking drabby drizzle?"

"I don't think 'drabby' is a word," Linda told her. "You should know that, Ms. Future Lawyer."

"Don't fucking call me that," Ruthie implored her friend. "It just reminds me how I'm lying to both my parents and being a fucking awful daughter."

"And you use the F word entirely too much," Linda continued loftily. "You know what they say--swear words are the crutch of a lazy mind."

"Yeah, well that's bullshit. I swear because those words fit the situation best," Ruthie declared. "I've gone over every word in my very extensive vocabulary, and I've chosen that particular word out of every other word. My mind isn't fucking lazy, and is in no need of a sodding crutch."

And Linda, who knew that Ruthie had scored a perfect 800 on the English portion of her SATs, could think of no suitable rejoinder. She settled for, "You spend too much time with your English boyfriend," while laughing comfortably. "Sodding," she repeated, shaking her head.

The doomed day continued when Ruthie flipped her lunch over onto the floor by accident when taking her seat.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ruthie wailed.

"Shh, it's okay, I'll split my PB & J with you," Pepsi said, patting Ruthie's back in what she hoped was a comforting way.

"First of all, PB & J? What are we, five?" Ruthie asked, nearly in tears. "Second of all, look at this mess, there's suiza sauce everywhere!"

Her father had packed two leftover enchiladas from their dinner for her, and she'd been looking forward to them all morning.

"Shh, it's okay," Gordon soothed, crouching to wipe the floor of the drama room, where they were eating. "There, all clean, see?"

Just then, Elliott poked his head in the door.

"What's this?" he asked. "I figured I'd find you guys here, but why do you look so upset?" He put an arm around Ruthie and kissed her on her drooping, sorrowful mouth.

"My day's been shit," Ruthie explained. "It's better now you're here," she declared. "Why, though? What about the cafeteria?"

Elliott shrugged. "Too many people, I guess, they said I could go. I was looking forward to eating some of your lunch, but I'm guessing that's what Gordon's tidying up?" At Pepsi's nod, he went on, asking, "You want to drive through somewhere? We just have time, I think."

"Ooh, sounds great, let's go," Ruthie replied, clapping her hands and smiling as she rose.

"You guys want to come? Or you want us to bring something back for you?" Elliott asked Pepsi and Gordo.