“God, this is disgusting!” Tammy spat at the Mexican lunch lady who’d just served a healthy glop of goulash onto her tray. “It looks like you vomited into a bowl and added peas!” Students giggled as the stout woman looked away, piqued. Tammy pounced.
“Oh please,” she laughed. “You’re a lunch lady, not Wolfgang fucking Puck!” More laughs fed a sense of triumph as Tammy swept up her tray and walked into the cafeteria, wondering which table she would grace with her presence.
Partners were assigned for the Global Studies project in 8th period. Tammy looked at the posted list and cried, “Noooo!” As if she’d just been asked to cut off her precious blonde hair. She was paired with Matilda Varney, the class weirdo.
Tammy took charge. “I’m not going to your fucking freak show house. We’re working at Starbucks.” But when they got there, the shop’s pipes had burst and they were closed.
“My family’s jewelry store is around the corner,” Matilda offered, brushing her greasy black hair aside with one finger. “We can work in the back.”
“Whatever,” Tammy sighed. “Let’s just go before anyone sees us together.”
|Photo / Creative Commons / bondidwhat|
“Yeah, no shit,” Tammy tossed over her shoulder as she peered at the section of spider charms. Next to a basket of sage, she spotted a framed article from a style magazine next to a black tree branch dripping with delicate silver necklaces. She perked.
“Paris Hilton wears this stuff?”
“They’re her favorite,” Matilda nodded as she crept up behind her. “I made them myself.”
“That’s hot,” Tammy quoted. She inspected them closer – glass disks containing strands of what looked like human hair twisted into wild contortions. Matilda reached up and took one down with a wispy red strand of hair.
“Here, have one,” she offered, eyes fixed on Tammy’s. Tammy looked away to the necklace, grabbing it from Matilda’s fingers and fastening it around her neck. “Awesome,” she said, admiring her gorgeous form in the mirror. “Alright, let’s get this assignment done before True Blood is on.” She didn’t say thank you.
The next day at school, Tammy wore her new necklace as she strolled toward her posse. “Let’s do the popcorn stand at homecoming this year,” she commanded. “We can skim off the top to buy beer.”
Her redheaded friend Brooke protested. “We did the popcorn stand last year and we barely got to see the game. What about tickets?”
Tammy slammed her locker. “Ticket booth is lame. We’re doing popcorn. If you don’t like it, you can just eat dirt.”
Brooke’s books slipped from her arms as she walked toward the exit. Tammy guffawed, “What the fuck?”
|Photo / Creative Commons / Micah Taylor|
Click here to read Three Gifts, Part 2