mad_madrasi
“PDAs disgust me,” said Neetu. Sri wrinkled her nose in agreement.
We were having lunch, squeezed together on a bench near the canteen, while The Boy held court under the banyan tree, like he always does. The day’s arm candy was That Girl- the slut from 11A who doesn’t wait for boys to pick up her handkerchief. Not when she can bend over and flash them the goods as she does it. He was sprawled out on the grass with his entourage, talking and joking around, while she worked her tongue in his ear and her hand down the front of his shirt.
Sri’s mouth was quivering, making her round face and chins jiggle along with it. “I can’t keep this to myself anymore. Girls, I found the journal.”
Neetu’s face went white. The Journal. Legend has it that The Boy wrote down the intimate details of each one of his conquests in that private diary. Half the girls in school were in that journal. The other half secretly wanted to be.
“How did you...” Neetu trailed off.
Sri puffed up. “Oh he got distracted and left it behind in the boy’s bathroom after we...”
“You and him?” Neetu let out a harsh laugh. “No bloody way.”
“Why? Because I’m fat?”
Neetu shrugged but didn’t deny it.
“It makes sense, though,” said Neetu. “Fat girls do things that thin girls don’t have to.”
Sri started quivering again, but for a different reason. “I do that stuff because I’m good at it.”
Neetu snorted.
“Unlike a certain person who only got two lines on page 31, so I’m guessing you weren’t much good at anything, were you,” said Sri.
With an unearthly shriek of “You bitch!” Neetu lunged across the bench at Sri, and the two of them tumbled to the ground, clawing at each other’s clothes and yanking each other’s hair.
“Girlfight!” someone yelled out, and a crowd started to draw around them.
In the commotion, The Boy looked straight at me, as That Girl continued to nuzzle his neck. He held my gaze. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe. Then his lips tugged up at the corner, and he broke away and kissed That Girl in that slow, unhurried way couples do. When they think they have all the time and space in the world.
My neck burned.
Now that news of the journal was spreading, I could move on to the next stage of the plan. I began composing the new entry in my head.
"Dear Diary. I can't believe that hooker gave me herpes."
Unsubtle? Fine. Then-
He looked at me and winked, cruelly.
I took out the journal from my bag and clicked my pen. That's it. He's getting herpes AND discovering that he's actually a woman. What was the word they used? Ambiguous genitalia.
I looked up and smiled at him, very, very sweetly.
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We were having lunch, squeezed together on a bench near the canteen, while The Boy held court under the banyan tree, like he always does. The day’s arm candy was That Girl- the slut from 11A who doesn’t wait for boys to pick up her handkerchief. Not when she can bend over and flash them the goods as she does it. He was sprawled out on the grass with his entourage, talking and joking around, while she worked her tongue in his ear and her hand down the front of his shirt.
Sri’s mouth was quivering, making her round face and chins jiggle along with it. “I can’t keep this to myself anymore. Girls, I found the journal.”
Neetu’s face went white. The Journal. Legend has it that The Boy wrote down the intimate details of each one of his conquests in that private diary. Half the girls in school were in that journal. The other half secretly wanted to be.
“How did you...” Neetu trailed off.
Sri puffed up. “Oh he got distracted and left it behind in the boy’s bathroom after we...”
“You and him?” Neetu let out a harsh laugh. “No bloody way.”
“Why? Because I’m fat?”
Neetu shrugged but didn’t deny it.
“It makes sense, though,” said Neetu. “Fat girls do things that thin girls don’t have to.”
Sri started quivering again, but for a different reason. “I do that stuff because I’m good at it.”
Neetu snorted.
“Unlike a certain person who only got two lines on page 31, so I’m guessing you weren’t much good at anything, were you,” said Sri.
With an unearthly shriek of “You bitch!” Neetu lunged across the bench at Sri, and the two of them tumbled to the ground, clawing at each other’s clothes and yanking each other’s hair.
“Girlfight!” someone yelled out, and a crowd started to draw around them.
In the commotion, The Boy looked straight at me, as That Girl continued to nuzzle his neck. He held my gaze. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe. Then his lips tugged up at the corner, and he broke away and kissed That Girl in that slow, unhurried way couples do. When they think they have all the time and space in the world.
My neck burned.
Now that news of the journal was spreading, I could move on to the next stage of the plan. I began composing the new entry in my head.
"Dear Diary. I can't believe that hooker gave me herpes."
Unsubtle? Fine. Then-
He looked at me and winked, cruelly.
I took out the journal from my bag and clicked my pen. That's it. He's getting herpes AND discovering that he's actually a woman. What was the word they used? Ambiguous genitalia.
I looked up and smiled at him, very, very sweetly.
Poll Rate this entry