The gif cuts to that scene in Friday where Chris Tucker says, ‘you just got knocked the fuck out,’ and I can’t help but holler. I wasn’t expecting that at all.
“Seriously Shay, I just want her and her pod people to leave me alone. I’m not someone who can be pushed around and walked all over. I might not be from here or come from money, but that doesn’t mean I’m an easy target.”
“That’s obvious,” she replies. “Just be prepared. You know she’s going to retaliate. Especially, because she thinks the guys want you.”
Rolling my eyes in her direction, we approach my locker. “Look she’s already made it well known this is her town and blah blah blah, like we’re in a nineties teen drama. Seriously, this isn’tNever Been Kissedand I am not Josie Geller. If anything, I’m Kat Stratford.”
Confused eyes are aimed back at me like I have two heads and I’m speaking a foreign language. Ughh, sometimes I wish I was born in a different era.
“Bish, don’t even tell me you’ve never watched nineties teen movies?” I stare at her in utter befuddlement.
“What, that shit my parents grew up on? Not me,” she says back.
Grabbing my chest, I bend over in mocking dismay, “You wound me. And here I thought we were on the precipice of a budding best friendship. Now I don’t know if we can continue.”
Laughing at our stupidity, I raise my thumbprint to my locker in order to disengage the lock. As I go to open it, a litany of condoms comes pouring out, landing at my feet.
The hallway erupts into laughter. I turn to see Sam standing just off to the side with a smile, a mile wide. Gone is my fun mood. I have only known this chick for a full twenty-four and I am already wishing for the hours back. I kid you not, at the end of my life when I want my breaths back, these are the ones I am going to be upset I lost.
“Oh look, the slut is prepared for all of the clients she has lined up for today,” her annoying voice permeates the air with its noxious energy. Her face is still slightly puffy from the slap, but concealed under some amazing makeup. You can’t even tell she was hit dead on.
I know she’s waiting for some reaction. My guess? She’s expecting anger or embarrassment. However, I’m not mad or embarrassed. Am I annoyed? Sure. I expected something, but nothing this boring and predictable.
Faking a yawn, I step over the condoms and push the rest out of my locker. This is so boring and unoriginal. I put my backpack in my locker and grab my tablet, then slam the door shut.
Turning, I look her directly in the eyes, and lift my lips into a Cheshire Cat smile and curtsy.
“Why thank you, one can never be too prepared,” I begin. “You never know when you might want to get a quick O.”
If the snickers and gasps in the hallway are anything to go by, I guess my reaction surpassed her prank. Guess this means Ariah two, stupid stick-up-her-ass Samantha, zero.
I grab Shay’s hand and head in the direction of the main office to get the scanner wiped or something. Obviously, our high-tech establishment is not as secure as they think and they should know about it. I make sure to file that away.
One would think with all the money these rich snobs invested in this place that our lockers would be a little more tamper proof.
“Ahh, Ariah?” Shay’s scrunched face expresses her confusion. “Are you just not going to say anything?”
“More than what I just said?” I question back.
“I mean, yeah. Wouldn’t you want to, I don’t know, yell at her or something?” she asks, even more perplexed by my anticlimactic response.
Turning slightly, I quip, “No. Why would I?”
Grabbing her arm, I pull my friend along, then reply, “I just told you this isn’t a nineties teen drama and Sam won’t get a rise out of me for something so lame. I mean condoms in my locker? Really? Even if I was having sex with every damn guy or girl in this school, it would be none of her damn business. I certainly wouldn’t feel ashamed. Slut-shaming is part of the bullshit patriarchy and I won’t participate in that bullshit. Oh, and there’s the added bonus of my response pissing her off.”
I’m sure she’s off to plan something more diabolical. For now, however, I am going to do just like I told her and stay in my lane. I don’t have time for the Sams of the world. Her condom stunt just reaffirms that she’s a waste of my collective energy.
Maybe I should give her some advice on better ways to get under people’s skin, I think, right as Shay pulls open the office door and says, “She needs two kicks.” Her accent is more prevalent because she’s annoyed.
We walk up to the office counter and wait for the administrative assistant to acknowledge our existence. I clear my throat and her head finally snaps up, a Stepford Wife smile firmly in place, accented by her white-blonde hair, baby pink stained lips, and pale green eyes.
“How can I help you?” she asks Shay, ignoring me. Her princess cut diamond engagement ring shines as she lifts her hand from typing.
Give me strength Lord.There really has to be elitism in the water here.
Plastering on my best placating smile, I engage the rude-ass assistant, “Hello, I need to know who to speak to in order to find out who accessed my locker and see what can be done in the future to prevent someone other than me from getting in?”
She stares at me, blinking like she can’t compute my words. When she speaks, her nasally voice is condescending, “No one has access to lockers, except the principal and the person assigned the locker. There is no way anyone was able to get into your locker withoutyougiving them access.”
