Page 4 of Curves for the Crass (Rejected 8)

“Don’t mind them. They would literally rather do anything than mess up their perfectly styled hair or caked-on makeup,” a skinny punk-looking girl says from the locker beside me. She rolls her eyes that have bright pink eyeshadow amazingly applied in a weird swoop design. Her hair is long and blonde with Pink stripes throughout. She looks like Avril Lavine. Well, maybe her little sister. Avril is one of my all-time favorite singers.

“I’m Lexi, by the way. You must be new here,” Lexi says, looking over at me and giving me a sympathetic smile. “Must be hard changing schools so close to the end of the year.”

“It is, but I’m used to it now. I just wish I could have had enough credits to actually graduate, but what can you do?” I chuckle, lifting my shoulders in a shrug, “I’m Mercedes, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

I look around, ensuring no one is paying attention to me as I quickly start undressing. I’m just pulling my shirt down over my soft belly when someone walks behind me.

“So, new girl. Are you really that comfortable changing in front of people when you have…”

“Bitch, finish that sentence, and you will be pulling rhinestones out of your ass until graduation. I will plant my spiked heal so far up your ass.” Lexi says, barely even turning around.

“What? I was just saying…”

“Saying how much her body rocks? That you wish you had amazing tits like hers? Or that her ass is her best feature because DAYUMMM. I bet she has guys falling all over her trying to get even a second worth of her attention. She’s every man's wet dream, and you’re jealous you look like a soaked alfredo noodle?” she says so casually that I actually start believing her.

“No? That’s not what you were going to say? Well, then you probably want to move along. Anything you say right now will just come off as snarky and jealous.” She continues to put the girl in her place, and I swear I almost cry tears of joy.

No one has ever stood up for me. No one has ever cared that I get picked on about my body nearly every day. Those comments come from home half the time, but that’s my burden to bear. I came to this school thinking it would be like every other one. I would keep my head held high and my voice low. Not necessarily blend in because, let’s be honest, I was born to stand out. I’m not even mad about it, but… kids are cruel. Except for this one. I watch as the skinny skank takes one more look at me before she rolls her eyes, stomps her foot (yes, actually stomps it), then walks away from the girls’ locker room.

“Thank you.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Eh, you look like someone who can handle themselves, tough as nails type. But it never hurts to have people behind you.” She gives me a bright smile before shutting her locker, waiting for me to finish up, then we walk back out to the gym together. I swallow hard, not only now realizing that, other than my brother, I don’t really have someone at my back, and I always try to take the brunt of shit, so he doesn’t have to. Preferably without him even knowing.

“So, you’re new,” Lexi states it like a fact, not a question.

“Yeah. Military dad, we move around a lot,” I say, shrugging.

“Damn, that sucks. Do you like PE? Is that why you’re taking it this late in the year? Or is it just an easy course to get you to graduation?” she asks, and I must make a face of disgust because Lexi laughs. “Ahh… you hate it too.”

“Yeah, I was told it was necessary to graduate even though I’ve taken this class every year of high school,” I grumble.

“Honestly, they probably just stuck you in here because you were ahead and didn’t know what else to do with you. Plus, they always have fewer girls in this class because Mr. Orlane, the PE teacher, is creepy, and none of the girls like him. So the girls always pick other classes, and it’s a room full of guys. They need more girls to fill up the class. I tried getting out of it, but no luck,” she says, growling. This girl is both badass and cute at the same time.

“That sucks. I hate that you have to take the class, but I won’t lie; I’m glad you’re here with me. You have no idea how much you helped me back there.”

“Oh, no worries at all. We have to stick together, right? Oh, speaking of, do you want to get out of here?” Lexi asks, and I raise my brow.

“You mean like skip class?” I ask, raising my brows at her.

“Well, technically, yeah, but no one will know we’re gone. Trust me,” she says, getting an excited look on her face. I laugh nervously, about to decline, but her words stop me. “You only live once, you only go through high school once, and you only ever meet your new best friends for the first time once. How about we make this meeting a big one?” she asks, smirking.

What the hell! I’ve never done anything wrong. Always the perfect student, perfect sister, perfect child. It’s time for me to live.

“Alright, what’s your plan?” I ask. Lexi holds her fingers up and starts counting down.

“Three, two, one,”

“Coach! Coach! Someone is streaking across the football field! Come quick!” A girl in what looks like a fluffy white, old dress, I swear it looks just like the one in the phantom of the opera, screams as she holds the sides of her skirt up and runs throughout the gym screaming about a guy streaking.

Lexi quickly grabs my hands and starts pulling me in the opposite direction.

What the hell is going on? And what kind of madhouse did I get myself into by walking into this school?

Chapter Four

Canaan

I search the cafeteria, knowing that since I didn’t find my brothers by their lockers, they are probably going goo goo eyes over their women here. We never used to come here. We always left school to grab lunch or just ditched, but times have changed. With the girls joining our group, we decided to stay at school with them throughout the day. Well, my brothers did. I still usually leave, but my little pixie is somewhere in these walls, and I won’t stop until I find her. I see Dean before anyone else. Of course, he’s the biggest out of our group, so he’s kind of easy to spot. I walk their way but stop dead in my tracks when I get closer and realize my smart-mouthed pixie is sitting at the table with my friends. Well, if that isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.

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