As pretty as Jessica was, she couldn't get past posing for those mall catalogs. The kind of catalogs that people use to pick up their dog's shit before tossing them to the bottom of their trash cans.
Jessica's hopes were pinned on marrying the football captain and becoming the belle of Ashburton, popping out a couple of kids, and baking gluten-free muffins for the school bake sale. Once I saw Jessica for what she was—stripped of her cheerleading gear and the Prom Queen crown she was sure to get—she was just another bitter "peaked at high school" mean girl.
Jessica stalked towards me, like a prey hunting down its victim.
"You're gonna die an ugly old virgin because no one would want to stick their cock in you unless you were wearing a paper bag over your head!" She jeered.
Harrison pulled Jessica back, his eyes quickly moving to mine. There was a flash of annoyance in them, but I felt it wasn't for me.
"C'mon, babe. She's not worth the hassle. Let's skip biology and create our own." His dark head bent down to whisper, no doubt, gag-worthy nothings in her ear.
Jessica flushed prettily, tilted her blonde head back, and proceeded to kiss Harrison soundly—tongue work and all.
She pulled back and stared pointedly and triumphantly at me before slipping her hand into Harrison's and dragging him in the opposite direction.
I waited until they were a good ten feet away.
"Hey, Jessica."
The couple stopped, and Harrison turned first to glance back at me.
He took in my tall, defiant stance. My heart-shaped face, dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes stood out amongst a sea of ordinary. I was wearing considerably more than the short skirts and cropped tops girls favored these days. Still, no one could deny how enticing my tiny waist, shapely hips, and long legs were—features that, unbeknownst to me, Jessica would jealously inspect when she thought no one was looking.
"What?" She haughtily replied.
"I would rather die a virgin than be a running train for the football team. Save your money on those breast implants; your vagina will need a revamping by the time you're twenty."
I wasn't one to slut shame. It was low-hanging fruit. But Harrison and Jessica had no qualms about insulting my love of reading, my looks, and my clothes. There was no more 'taking the high road'—they had it coming.
Jessica's face grew pink, then red with embarrassment and rage. Her mouth flapped open and shut like a fish. Harrison stood there, shock written on his face. And was that admiration? Oh, I couldn't have that. I was all for equality, after all.
"Oh, and Harrison? Make sure you wrap it up. Your dick's been in more places than Carmen Sandiego." Okay, it was a dated joke, but I couldn't come up with an explorer on the spot that they had heard of. "And from what I heard, there wouldn't be much to write home about."
With that, I wiggled my fingers, turned swiftly on my heels, and strolled proudly in the opposite direction. The student body responded with the requisite "ooooohhh!" or "burrrrnnn!" Some patted me on the back, some gave soft claps and laughed.
If I thought that display of pluckiness would make Harrison, Jessica, and their crew back off, I would be sorely mistaken. They came at me even harder than before.
My name and number were plastered on the bathroom walls with derogatory slang attached. A photo of my face on a nude body also circulated. It was a shitty Photoshop job that was clearly forged, but it was still mocked nonetheless.
Publically, I held my head high and got on with it, ignoring the background noise. I mentally counted the months and days I would be free from this god-forsaken town.
Privately, though? Privately, I broke down. There were times I couldn't eat or sleep as the bullying picked up its momentum. My parents were so worried about my skinny frame and sunken eyes, but I had excused it as last-minute studying and nervous anticipation for college.
Rationally, I knew that high school would be a small blip in my life. I would leave, graduate college, get a great job, make new friends, travel, have sex, maybe get married, and have children if I wanted. High school would be a distant memory, and I would grow up and out of it.
Rationally, I knew that.
But try telling that to a teenager who was living in the moment, getting verbally and physically abused almost daily. Despite telling myself that the rest of my life would start soon,thispart of my life was happening now. And it was miserable.
I was lucky enough to come out of it on the other side—other kids would not be as fortunate, succumbing to the constant taunts and becoming another bullying statistic.
I hated Harrison.
He was a bully. A tormentor. An evil individual who thrived off cutting other people down.
But I had no idea how vengeful he could be.
To:Grace Linwood
