rhythm of a star: II

installment numba two of my [now] vignette of a story. 

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“Don’t talk to that thing, Sam; she’s a walking slug in our presence. It’s total social suicide if we’re caught talking to her.”

“But she looks so…”

“Moving along Sam, moving along!”

She hears distant mumbling as her eyes peek open to see one red headed girl poking her arm, while another blonde-headed one is attempting to pull her away but to no avail. Crossing her arms in frustration, the blonde resorts to standing away from the horrid stench. As she rubs her eyes and slowly regains consciousness, she realizes just who these people are—the two most popular girls at Milton High School: Leah Taylor and her sidekick Samantha Hanson. Her brown eyes meet blue ones as the red head squeals, “OMG Leah, she’s awake!”, the girl’s face now a foot away from hers.

Judie’s never been on Leah’s good side—heck, no one usually is, minus the other cheerleaders on the squad and the basketball guys. But with her being the resident ‘school pariah’, it’s no big surprise. She plucks a browning banana off her head, cursing inwardly about the lack of upkeep at this school. For heaven’s sake, if the garbage disposal were being brought to the landfill at least once a week, it wouldn’t carry as horrid of an odor, thus creating a less stench on her. Grabbing for the green metal of the trash can, she thrusts herself upward, lifting herself out of the dumpster. In desperation to get every piece of junk off of her outfit, she dusts her clothing rapidly, lost in the normal cleaning routine as to almost miss the sharp crystalline voice of Leah Taylor.

“No need to get rid of that garbage on your clothes, it matches your of garbage of an outfit just fine. Getting some hand-me-downs from your grandmother, Baby Barbara Streisand, or can your single-working Dad and dead mom not afford Talbots?”

She scoffs, a confident, “I’ll have you know that my mother was a strong woman who died during labor. And you would know what good style is, what with your cheerleading outfit your only source of attire for five days of the week,” bursting through her lips.

“Puh-lease, we all know you’re secretly jealous of the outfit because even you yourself know that you will never be even close to our standards. Let’s just face it, you’ll always have no friends, and you’ll never have what it takes to be popular,” the cheerleader bickers.

She hastily starts marching the other direction of Leah Taylor, as to control her nerves of punching the girl’s face through. Knowing that if her actions were free to do what they pleased, she would be in the principal’s office by now—maybe even in detention— and a mark on her spotless record would be a shame. But as she performs her famous ‘Judie Melon’ storm out, a banana gets in the way of her foot, resulting in a thunderous fall to hard cement.

Judie can hear Leah Taylor’s squeaky laugh, and a “Have fun loser!” uttered from her perfectly glossed red lips. But as the two girls stalk off in the distance, the red headed one glances aback, a look of sympathy woven within her pupils. Is she actually feeling sorry…? But she stops her words mid-sentence, furiously shaking her head. She’s stuck in this cliché world of cheerleaders and jocks bullying her, and in her cliché world, one cheerleader doesn’t feel bad for the outcast. Let’s face it, even her extraordinary voice and talent can’t get her out of this cliché life.  

[TBC]