There are plenty of more harrowing situations to be a part of, like. . . I could be on one of those crime shows my dad used to watch. Yeah, well, my corpse could at least make a cameo, and the cause of my death.
No, my brutal slaying!
My lover would be responsible for my murder because he's the one who stabbed me to death with an eyebrow pencil. His motive; I wouldn't pass the "damn rose pink lipstick." The best part is the name a room full of writers would call our tragic love: A Crime of Glitz and Glamour.
I raise my left eyebrow, resisting the urge to jump out of Lexie's moving car onto the hard pavement. I'm aware this little idea will definitely leave gnarly bruises scattered across my body and might even shorten my life. But I'm going freaking mental with each conceited breath Roxane inhales, and have I mentioned that her existence drives me insane.
Ughhhhhhhhhhhh!
I must've tuned her out three times now, and in each fantasy, I imagine Brandon either stabbing me to death or drawing my eyebrows on perfectly. I'm not exactly a fan of spicy Brandon or the brain cells I'm losing just by sitting next to Roxane. No, seriously, I can feel my brain dwindling into absolute nothingness.
Oh shit, I think I forgot my name.
"Seriously, Atomics, a crime of glitz and glamour, would totally be the shit." Roxane squeals.
I don't believe the galaxy could write anything worse than the nonsense spewing out of Roxane's mouth. After all, the first thing to know about Alexis and her brigade of girlfriends has to be how Roxie aspires to be a fashion journalist this week. Not that anyone would applaud her endeavors, she can't even write to save her stuck-up chihuahua.
Honestly, I think it's cool Roxane is always trying to succeed at something different, I wish she would skip ahead to next week's new obsession. But if anyone is crazy enough to upset her, they'll see Princess bearing her full smile. No kind of misery on earth can compare to getting bit on the ass by a service dog on the same day as a pop quiz.
"I would kill a bitch for my lipstick." Sienna chimes in with her thick Chicago accent.
Lexie rolls her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Of course you would, Sienna; you girls lack imagination."
"I wouldn't kill her," Lexie clicks her tongue, gripping the steering wheel as she swerves into the school parking lot. "I'd help her do her makeup."
"How is doing her makeup getting even?!" We all ask simultaneously.
You know I'm bored when I combine my whole intellect with the likes of Baby Looney Tunes.
I roll my eyes, gripping the door handle, daring myself to splatter across the pavement. Chloe sees this and yanks my hand away from the door. Then she whispers with a deadly grimace, "If I can't leave, then no one can."
Because of my desperation, I do what any self-respecting person would do. I blow my brains out with my handgun and fake collapse for attention. Princess licks my cheek; a smirk forms on Chloe's lips as Sienna scrunches her face in disgust.
"One word," Lexie draws out, driving into her usual parking spot. "parabens."
"Oh my god, I have to add this to my script." Roxane steps outside the car, scrimmaging inside her bookbag.
Chloe stays silent, looking up from her cup of coffee with her signature glare. "Fuck this; the next time I'm riding the damn short bus." She scoffs between sips of her coffee, earning an eye roll from her friends as she storms outside the car into the parking lot.
"Yeah, you lost me, Lex!" Sienna finally laughs.
"Some studies show a link between parabens and cancer." Lexie walks outside, standing in front of her car.
I clear my throat, balancing Princess as I close the car door. "Can you get your friend's dog, or is being a diabolical genius too important?"
"Aye, I think ya sister and Princess got sum goin' on, Rox," Sienna yells out loud, attracting a larger crowd.
Another courtesy of hanging around Ravenwood's infamous Atomic Sluts is unwanted attention. I knew I should have walked to school today, especially after Lexie's little announcement. Now, she's using her right hand, Sienna Johnson, to do her dirty work. Sienna gets her alias Hothead because when she's upset, it's like watching a rocket take off explosives.
Roxane gapes at me. "Ew, Princess only deals with pedigree." She frowns, trying to take Princess from my hands, but she bites in Roxie's direction.
"Girl, you might as well give that up. Ebony got her head gone." Sienna says to Roxie as she pouts.
"Hey, old classmate," I call as Sienna sneers. "You should watch your temper on school grounds. You wouldn't want a repeat of freshman year unless you want to be a senior citizen graduating."
Alexis stands in a crowd of teenagers, smiling profusely at my misfortune, but the smirk on her lips is more diabolical than anything these people can whisper about me. At this point, I have to fend for myself while Ravenwood's anti-heroes take turns ripping my confidence into shreds. The only comfort I have is knowing I'll have the last laugh because when my mother passed, part of my soul died with her.
"Aye, I'll give 20 to any man, woman, or hell rat that wants to pop Ebony's cherry!" Sienna chants over and over again, flashing a crisp twenty-dollar bill.
"Sienna, if 2k25 is the class to beat, then your future class, 2k89, must be the class to beat and cheat death!"
"Hey, Ebbs," Roxane says, putting her phone down. "Princess may be the dog, but you're the real batch."
"Hey Roxie, when it's lunchtime, do you feed Princess, or does she feed you?" I close the gap between us as her blank expression gets crowded with numb tears.
My heart skips when I realize I took it too far when insulting Roxane. I mean, it's one hundred percent her fault she has the Banks fooled into believing she has an actual eating disorder. Plus, everyone knows Roxane's parents run this town.
I'm honestly more concerned that I just insulted the one person who brings their mean-spirited little chihuahua to school with them every day. I take a deep breath, hoping Princess doesn't decide to use my bony ass as a chew toy.
Please, don't bite me in front of these damned souls.
I'm flavorless!
"Bite her ass, Princess," Roxane screams, subtly calling her clique to her side like a wounded animal.
Shit!
Princess starts whining, but before I can throw her to Roxane, she shifts in my arms until she turns around. Her big, soulful, dark brown eyes stare at me as the crowd screeches in the background. Then Princess does the unthinkable she nuzzles against my chest. Roxane gapes at us as if I just turned her innocent dog into a proper little big-eyed whore.
"You ain't gotta worry about shorty, Rox," Sienna seethes, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Ebony, I'm about to beat the fuck outta you."
I freeze in the parking lot as I hold Princess underneath my arm. For some reason, I stretch out my left hand in self-defense because if I can slow down the Tasmanian Devil, I can stand a chance.
I don't know what it is about the urge to force my eyes shut in a time of peril that somehow convinces my brain all my problems will fade away.
But here I am, posing like a glorified Crossing Guard, shielding the enemy's clueless pint-sized service dog. What kind of bad luck do I have if I get someone else's service dog on my side, except for one teensy weensy catch? The service dog's broken! Of all the humongous piles of shit, this takes the cake.
A few more seconds whiz by before I notice I'm still not splattered across the pavement. I allow one of my eyes to slowly pry itself open and then the other because of the sheer concept of depth perception.
I don't trust the picture a part of my vision is painting because there's no way an angelic presence is standing before me. In all aspects, beauty has never been a quality I possess. I once fooled myself into believing I had harnessed its magic in an attempt to find the one.
Not just a better half, I would settle for a partner, a confidant, a friend, even a friendly stranger. Right after my mom passed away, I went on a search to find him, so maybe I got into Alexis's car because deep down, I hadn't stopped searching for him. My arm falls to my side as I gasp for a minuscule breath of air, but I can't capture it. His blue eyes observe me with a twinkle of amusement as he hides his smile.
"Ravenwood isn't a place for oversized rats," Brandon smirks, separating me from a stunned Sienna.
"It's not a rat; it's a dog, a domesticated descendant of the wolf. A canine, hound, tyke, man's best friend, or a pup, which is a shorter term for a puppy. She can also be called a bitch." I try to escape this trance, but my brain is too busy laughing at my ridiculousness.
"That was sarcasm," Brandon chuckles. "you know the use of irony to convey contempt."
Oh, my gawd, sarcasm's my first love; if only I could calm down and talk to him. This moment could be my last shot at speaking to Brandon. My mother, Rose, used to say love is born in all forms, whether platonically or romantically; it always happens at the right time.
Okay, inhale deeply, now exhale and say something that'll make Brandon finally notice me. "Contempt, feeling someone or something is worthless. Worthless, lacking value or purpose. Purpose..."
"Okay, I see where this is going," Brandon says, cutting me off as he spins around to face the crowd.
"Every able-bodied person has exactly five seconds to fuck off unless they want to be handicapped," Brandon yells, causing the multitude of people to disperse in all directions, even Alexis and most of her demon horde.
Brandon breathes hard, running his hand through his dark brown hair. "Are you okay, Ebony?"
My eyes widen in horror. "Name. A word given to a child upon birth that it'll be referred to its entire life."
"What's the matter?" Brandon teases, leading me inside the school. "No synonyms?"
"Smart ass," His head snaps in my direction as I continue speaking, "an individual that thinks they know everything or Brandon Lockwood."
"Hurt, feeling mental anguish or distress," Brandon slams his back to a wall next to a classroom, pressing his hand against his chest. "Ebony hurt Brandon. Brandon is a muscular, charming man with the intellect of a genius, the body of an Adonis, and a package like an erect fossil."
My mouth flies open, and for the first time in my life, I can't think of a single comeback to say to him. Not even a definition or synonym lives in my brain anymore. It's air up here, and even it's flabbergasted. But to clarify, I can't imagine a world where my brain and innocence will actually let me drool over Brandon Lockwood with my words.
My insane mind is already picturing uncovering the world's largest fossil, but NOT his manhood. I'm so dumb I'm actually imagining a crew of Palaeontologists finding an actual fossil.
So, not to further my embarrassment, I mentally shove my eyeballs back inside their sockets and pick my unhinged jaw up from the floor. Brandon notices me retreating further into myself before he gives me a bright smile and opens the door to the classroom.
Brandon traps me in the doorway. "Do me a favor, Ebony. Never change for any of these assholes." He pushes the door open, waiting for me to walk inside the classroom before he shuts it.
I just had an encounter with greatness.
It takes five minutes before I turn around to face my classmates when I realize who am I kidding. Brandon will never fall for someone like me. I talked to him for two minutes and couldn't tell him anything that proved my intelligence or social skills. So it's no wonder he walked me and Princess to where I'm currently standing.
I glance around the classroom and stop when I see a poster that reads: Math Problems for Special Education. 2+3 =5. A room of students stare into space, with some moving their heads from side to side as if dancing in their seats to a song only they can hear. The special education teacher clears her throat, patiently waiting for me to notice her.
"Hi sweetie, you must be confused?" Mrs. Hubbard asks, taking my backpack from my shoulder.
Princess starts barking the more my stomach starts to turn. "You have got to be shitting me," I mumble.
"Oh, sweetie, are you lost?" Mrs. Hubbard says, wrapping her arms around me. "Ebony, you aren't supposed to be in here until Wednesday."
AUTHORS NOTE
IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM IS EBONY BELITTLING THE STUDENTS IN SPECIAL EDUCATION. SHE SIMPLY IS EXPRESSING HER FRUSTRATION BECAUSE SHE FAILED TO SHOW BRANDON HER TRUE SELF, AND NOW HE GENUINELY THINKS THE ATOMIC FIVE WERE PICKING ON A MENTALLY HANDICAPPED STUDENT. THE TRUTH IS SHES NOT A LOW FUNCTIONING STUDENT. SHE WAS JUST NERVOUS TO SPEAK TO HIM.
ALSO, BRANDON ISN'T SORRY ABOUT THE FOSSIL REFERENCE AND NEITHER AM I ð!