Season 1 - Episode 2 - Act III

            Karine was busy checking her hair in her locker mirror when Christina joined her.  She looked much happier today.  It seemed their hang out session yesterday had helped.  They’d listened to music and tried on Karine’s clothes, which was always fun since Erica could never fit into anything.

            Chrissy looked around, making sure they were alone and she pulled a doll out of her bag.  It had yellow yarn for hair, green buttons for eyes and was wearing jeans and a little green jacket over a white t-shirt.

            “What is that?” Karine asked.

            “It’s a Terry voodoo doll,” Chrissy giggled.

            “Oh my god!  You actually made one?  I was kidding!”

            “I know.  But I couldn’t resist. Don’t you think it’s cute?”

            Karine laughed and examined the doll.  It was a pretty good likeness.  Terry had a khaki jacket he wore in the spring and fall.  Looking closer, Karine saw that Chrissy had drawn lines and dots on the jacket to indicate zippers and buttons.

            “I also made him a little hockey outfit, but I like this one better,” Chrissy explained.  “He’s hotter in normal clothes.”

            “Yeah,” Karine agreed.  “So did you like, stick it with pins and stuff?

            Chrissy giggled in embarrassment.  “No!  I was gonna.  But then I just like, slept with it and had like, really good dreams.”

            “Oh my god.  You are so out of it” Karine laughed.

            “I know but come on.  It’s kinda cute don’t you think?”

            Karine smiled kindly.  “Yeah, it totally looks like him.  But don’t let Erica see that thing.  She’d totally have a field day.”

            “I know!”  Chrissy stuck the doll back into her bag and looked around suspiciously. 

Karl had been cryptic all through lunch.  He said he’d prepared something to ruin Madame Rotten but wouldn’t give more details until the run was over.  Once they were safely at The Wall he went to his locker and returned with a folder marked ‘Top Secret’.

            “Here it is, Project SOIF.”

            “Project thirsty?” asked Cerise, reading the French word soif.

            “It’s an acronym,” Karl explained as he handed everyone a black duo-tang.  “It stands for Slack Off In French.  And that my friends, is how we will crush the soul of our arch nemesis, Madame Rotten.”

            “Ooh, this is getting good, carry on my Arian friend,” Vani encouraged. 

            “Project SOIF is a systematic plan to undermine Rotten’s efforts to teach us French.  Whenever she tells us to conjugate a verb, we will not conjugate!  Whenever she wants us to compose an essay, we will not compose.”

            Vani jumped in.  “Whenever she tells us to memorize a play, will we memorize that play?”

            “Oh no, my friends,” Karl grinned.  “We will not memorize that play.  We will scoff at the very idea of play memorization!  Because from this day forward we will be Slacking Off In French!  To Project SOIF I say!  Project SOIF!”

            Vani caught on and pumped his fist into the air, chanting Project SOIF.  The others followed suit, and even Cerise joined in.

            “What is going on here?” asked Sarah as she popped her head out of the student union room.

            Karl abruptly closed his duo-tang.  “Nothing!  Nothing’s going on!  Abort!  Abort!”

            He jumped up and started running away. Vani was close behind, followed by Willy and Jay.  Cerise stood up slowly and looked at Sarah.  She smiled and shrugged as Sarah rolled her eyes, retreating to the student union.  Cerise followed the boys.

            They exited the school’s front entrance and carefully walked onto the lawn, convening at a picnic table resting under the shade of a tree.  It wasn’t a very big tree so only half the table was in the shade.  They all sat down and Cerise made sure to take a spot out of the sun. 

            “I wonder where Karine is,” mused Jay.  “Doesn’t she usually sit here?  I mean her and those chucks?”

            “Seriously,” Vani agreed.  “Maybe we shouldn’t sit here.

            “They’re not here now,” Cerise pointed out.

“What if they come back?  They’d kill us.”  Willy looked around worriedly.

“Whatever,” said Karl.  “If we see them coming we’ll just leave.  Let’s not get all paranoid.”

Cerise agreed and asked for clarification on Project SOIF, wondering what it involved.

“I’m glad you’ve asked, my fruit-flavoured friend.  Soon, you shall see.  Please refer to your individual manuals.  Remember people, this is top secret information so I don’t wanna see it falling into the wrong hands, ok?”

Jay hummed the tune to Mission Impossible while he opened his duo-tang and Vani began reading.

“If you are reading this, then you are a member of the secret organization known as Project SOIF.  By reading this manifesto, you are accepting to be a member of team SOIF.  You are swearing to complete secrecy and vow not to reveal the contents of this manifesto to outside parties.  You are accepting complete responsibility for your actions and cannot accuse team SOIF of any wrong-doing.  If these terms are not acceptable to you, you must now stop reading this document, denounce yourself as no longer part of team SOIF, and swear never to reveal what you have just read to anyone, for any reason.”

            “You’re really covering your ass on this thing, eh Karl?” Jay smirked.

            “I’ll say,” Cerise agreed, flipping through the pages.  “There’s even a disclaimer!  Team SOIF as a whole does not necessarily share the same views as its members.  All members act on their own accord and take responsibility for their own actions.  Project SOIF has no religious, political or linguistic basis or affiliation.  It is not biased, nor prejudiced against any group.  The references to French are not meant to have any bearing on France, the French people, the French language or any other possible interpretation other than an Enriched French class taught by one Madame Roptin.”

            “Um,” Willy seemed confused.  “How much work did you put into this thing?  Exactly how is this slacking off?”

            “Ah Willy,” Karl sighed.  “So young, so naïve, so incapable of using deodorant effectively.  The whole thing works on a points system.  You get points for performing certain actions that lead to the waste-age of class time.”

            Saying J’ai soif was worth 10 points.  Karl explained that someone could ask to go get a drink of water by first saying they were soif.  Putting Madame Rotten to sleep was worth 30 points and successfully preventing her from waking up was another 30 points.  If they could get Rotten to say something in English, they would earn 50 points but it was only worth 30 points if they spoke in English without getting reprimanded.  Even if they did get reprimanded, it was still worth 20 points, but she had to specifically say en français. 

            “Oh man,” laughed Willy.  “80 points for calling her Rotten to her face?  As if anyone would ever do that!”

            “Hence the challenge,” smiled Karl.

            “This is totallyotally awesome diddely dawesome,” said Vani while bouncing up and down excitedly.

            “It’s the most organized slack-off ever,” snickered Cerise.

            “Yeah, you really don’t get the point of anarchy, do you, Karl?” asked Jay with a snicker.

            “I’m not trying to be an anarchist.  I’m trying to crush the so-called souls of as many humans as possible before I die.”

            “Bang up job so far, right Willy?” giggled Vani, nudging Willy in the ribs.

            Willy swatted him away and tried not to look insulted.

            “Man, this is gonna be so much fun,” Vani went on, stroking the manifesto with affection.

           

            It did sound like fun, thought Shauna.  Too bad she was too stupid to be in Enriched French.  Not that she’d be able to join in their game anyway, they’d never let her.  Cerise obviously hated her.

            Shauna was smoking a cigarette, pressed up against the outer wall of the auditorium, facing the parking lot.  Cerise and her stupid new friends sat on a picnic table facing the street.  Every so often Shauna would peer around the corner of her wall and sneak a peek.  Even without looking she could hear most of what they were saying.  Cerise’s stupid new friends were loud.  Some secret project, probably everyone in school was gonna know about it.  She might even tell Madame Rotten, if she knew who Madame Rotten was, or if she were ever inclined to speak to a teacher voluntarily. 

Every so often the gang went out for lunch, ‘cause eating at school got old.  They were at a diner in Pointe-Claire village, all squeezed into one booth, which was awkward because of Erica’s total fatness.  Terry and Andrew sat across from one another, closest to the windows.  Karine sat next to Terry and Steve was next to her.  Christina was squeezed in between Andrew and Erica’s massive ass. 

Karine noticed that Chrissy was deliberately avoiding eye contact with Terry, which was hardly necessary since he was completely ignoring her as usual.  Poor Chrissy, she’d barely even touched her food.  And the fact that Terry hadn’t stolen all her fries by now was an obvious indication that he was seriously uninterested in her.

They’d all ordered the burger platter but Terry converted his fries to a poutine and he ordered a plate of onion rings for the table, eating most of them himself.  Karine finally pushed away her plate when she’d eaten most of her fries but only half of her burger.

            “It’s called food, Karine.  You eat it,” Erica scowled.

            “I did eat.”

            “You had like, nothing.”

            “What do you care?”

            “I’m just sick of watching you play little miss anorexic,” Erica chided.  “It’s like, so Olsen twins.”

            “Just because you have food issues doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

            Andrew chuckled.  “Cat fight!  Stand back!”

            “And just because I don’t eat like a pig doesn’t automatically make me Nicole Ritchie,” Karine went on.

            “Yeah ok,” Erica rolled her eyes.  “Whatever, Karine.  We’ll all wait here while you go purge.”

            “Fuck!”  Terry snapped.  “Don’t you ever get sick of hearing your stupid voice, Erica?  ‘Cause the rest of us sure do.”

            Erica glared at Terry.  “Mind your own fucking business, Terry.  What makes you think you’re in this conversation?”

            “What makes you think any of us care about the stupid shit you’re constantly complaining about?”  Terry shot back.  “God, just shut up, Erica!  Just shut your fat, ugly face!”

            Everyone was stunned.  Karine slowly turned her head and peered at Terry.  She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so angry before.  Christina’s jaw was practically on the table and the fury in Erica’s eyes could have melted a penguin’s butt.  Andrew looked like he was about to laugh and finally he did.

            “Whoa!  It worked!”  Andrew said gleefully.

            “No it didn’t,” Erica spoke calmly and focused her gaze on Karine.  “Seems you were right about Terry.  He is an asshole.”

            “Seems to be going around, doesn’t it?” Terry scowled.

            “Whatever,” Erica scoffed.  “You really think you’re the shit, don’t you, Terry?  But you’re a complete fucking dick.  We all know what an asshole you’ve been to Chrissy all fucking her and dumping her.  You’re such a shit-head!”  She stood up from the table and ordered Christina to accompany her as she began walking away. 

            Christina looked like she might cry. 

“Let’s go, Christina!” Erica yelled.

            Chrissy slid out from the booth and followed Erica outside.  Wow.  Awesome.  That Erica had actually been so deeply pwned that she’d left the table was nothing short of spectacular.  Karine knew that Terry wasn’t exactly Erica’s number one fan but to actually bitch her out to such an intense degree was awesomeness personified. 

            Steven remained silent but Andrew was still laughing.  A few patrons in the restaurant looked at their table, seeming equally amused.

            “Dude!  That was so awesome!” Andrew laughed.  “Oh man.  Erica completely lost her shit!  Did you see that?!  She practically popped a vein!”

            Terry simply sighed and started to eat the remains of Karine’s burger.  Steven kept his head down, apparently unsure of how to react.

            Andrew settled down and they were all awkwardly silent for a while.  Finally Andrew slid out of his seat.  “Well fuck this,” he shrugged.  “I’m gonna go watch Erica get her bitch on!”  He skipped out of the restaurant happily.

            “I knew she had no will of her own,” Terry mused as he polished off Karine’s fries.

            “Who, Erica?” Karine wondered.

            “No, Chrissy.  She’s just Erica’s little lackey.  Erica tells her to go and she goes.  It’s pathetic.”

            “So that whole thing was just some sort of test for Christina?”  Karine stared at the empty bench across from her.  “That was all about her?”

            “No,” Terry sighed.  “It was about you.”

            “About Karine?”  Steven finally spoke, getting up and going to sit on the other side of the table.

            “Yeah, Steve,” Terry snapped.  “You know, your girlfriend.  And Erica was totally giving her shit and you just sat there taking it.”

            “What was I supposed to do?” asked Steven, his voice rising.

            “Uh, I dunno.” Terry leaned over the table to glare at Steve.  “Maybe you should’ve just sat there jacking-off.  Oh wait, that is what you did!  And it wasn’t very helpful, was it?”

            Steven looked around the restaurant, obviously embarrassed.  “Why are you getting all pissed off at me now?” he hissed.

            Terry shook his head in exasperation.  “Whatever, dude.”

            “Yeah, whatever,” Steven agreed and stood up.  “Come on Karine, let’s go.”

            “You go ahead,” said Karine, looking up at Steven.

            “I said let’s go,” Steve insisted.

            “And I said go ahead.  So you go and I’m gonna stay!” 

            Steve shook his head in confusion, or perhaps anger.  He shrugged and walked out of the restaurant, leaving Karine with Terry and the bill.  The waitress brought it over with a sympathetic smile, not saying a word.  Terry grabbed the bill and then took a wad of twenties out of his wallet, tossing them onto the table.

            “Seriously Karine,” Terry said after slurping up the last of her coke.  “You obviously don’t let Captain Ordinary push you around.  So why do you let Erica do it?”

            “Because I can always count on you to defend me,” she smirked.

            Was it possible that Terry blushed at that comment?

            “Seriously though,” Karine went on.  “I don’t let her push me around.  I was defending myself just fine before you jumped in.”

            “Yeah, sorry,” Terry shrugged.  “I guess she just gets on my nerves sometimes.  She’s so fucking bitchy, sometimes I just can’t take it anymore.”

            “Yeah well,” Karine smiled.  “I’m sure one day she’ll, you know, die.”

            Terry laughed and Karine joined in.

Season 1 - Episode 2 - Act II

            “He was so mean!”  Christina sobbed.

            Her tears came in a tsunami of uncontrollable gulps.  Chrissy was way too sensitive.  Karine and Erica had tried to warn her about Terry but she’d been too smitten by his hotness to play it cool.  Poor girl.    

Karine tried to find some paper towel to wipe away the streaks of mascara running down Chrissy’s face but they were in the second floor girls’ washroom so of course it didn’t have any paper towel.  It was the grossest bathroom ever but that’s exactly why it was a good place to hang out privately; people avoided it if they could.

            “We tried to warn you,” Erica sighed as she leaned against one of the chipped sinks.

            “But he was so mean!  It was like he didn’t even care!  Like he never cared!”

            “Oh Chrissy,” Karine pulled Christina’s hair away from her wet face.  “I’m sure he cared.  But I mean, that’s just how he is.”

            “Yeah, I’m sure he cared,” said Erica with a roll of her eyes.

            Karine glared at Erica and dabbed at Chrissy’s face with toilet paper.  She assured her that she was better off without Terry, since he was a jerk and had always been a jerk.  Everyone knew he was a player and Chrissy could do better.

            “And there are other fish in the sea.  Blah, blah, inspiration,” Erica smirked.  “Chrissy, the hell did you expect?”

            Karine shot Erica another annoyed look.  She could be so counterproductive sometimes.  Chrissy was really, seriously in pain here and all Erica could do was gloat.  What a bitch.

            “Everything seemed fine on the weekend,” Chrissy gasped through her tears.

            “But that’s just how Terry is.  He does whatever suits him at whatever time,” Karine explained. 

            It was true.  Terry was a good friend, but as a boyfriend he was a real prick.

            “He’s not capable of higher brain function,” Erica said a little more helpfully. “No guy is.”

            “You can’t take it personally,” Karine insisted.

            “How can I not?”

            “Yeah really,” Erica snickered.  “It kinda is personal.”

            Karine deployed yet another exasperated look at Erica, who shrugged happily and examined her fingernails.  Karine assured Chrissy that this entire Terry fiasco should be taken as a learning experience.  Now Chrissy was stronger and she finally realized that you couldn’t let guys have the upper hand in relationships.

            “You make it sound like a competition.”  Christina looked confused.

            “Well yeah!”  Erica said.  “Duh!”

            “But I don’t wanna be in a competition.  I just want a boyfriend!”

            Erica shook her head condescendingly.  “But it is a competition ok?  It’s all a game.  And if you want to win, you can’t let guys think you like them.”

            “That’s crazy,” Christina declared.

            “No, it’s true,” Karine agreed.  “It’s the law of the least interested.  If a guy knows you care then he’ll walk all over you.  You can’t ever let yourself really care.  And if you do, you can’t show it.”

            “Are you saying you don’t really care about Steven?”

            “Well it is Steven,” Erica chuckled.

            Karine sighed and tried to explain.  It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Steven, it was just that she didn’t let herself get all Cosmo about him.  She liked him and everything but he liked her more and that was important for maintaining control.

            “You have to make them want you,” advised Erica.

            “How?” Chrissy wondered as she washed her tear stained face.

            “Only give them enough to keep them coming back for more,” Erica said.

            “But what if I want more?”

            “You have to not want more,” explained Karine.

            “If you’re doing things right then you won’t want more,” agreed Erica.

            Christina looked confused.  “Are you guys talking about sex or like the emotions of it?”

            Karine shrugged, not really sure herself.  She suggested they all go to her place after school and make a Terry voodoo doll and swear off guys forever.  Erica suggested they perform a boyfriend cleansing ritual and even started circling her arms around Chrissy’s head while chanting something nonsensical.  Chrissy looked annoyed at first but finally she laughed and agreed to the after-school plans.

            “That’s weird.”

            “What’s weird?” Cerise asked Jay.  They’d just walked outside of the school and she was trying to move towards the overpass, hoping they could walk home together.  But he’d stopped and didn’t seem willing to move.

            “I didn’t see Karine go to her bus stop.  I wonder where she is.”

            “Oh.”  Cerise tried to contain her disappointment.

            Jay managed to notice Cerise’s bewildered look and insisted that he didn’t really care, it’s just that he used to have a bit of a crush on Karine and he knew she took the 211 home but she wasn’t at the smoking wall and she didn’t go to the bus stop so… not that he cared.  He really didn’t.  He supposed she might walk home since didn’t live that far.  Kinda far but not crazy far. 

            “How do you know where she lives?”

            “I don’t,” Jay insisted.  “Well, I do but, it’s… I mean, I know it’s stupid but I kinda one time followed her home.  I mean, you know.  I was just curious.  I mean, I wasn’t stalking her or anything.  I just, I kinda had to go in that direction anyway.”

            “Right,” Cerise smirked.

            “She lives with her mom.  But her mom’s like, never home so she basically has the house all to herself.  Last year she was always having these parties and it was like, how many parties can you have.  You know?”

            “Oh yeah?”

            “Not that I was like paying attention or anything.  I mean it just seemed like a lot of parties is all.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “Her dad’s dead,” Jay announced awkwardly.  “He died in grade 8.  I mean, when Karine was in grade 8.  Not when he was in grade 8 ‘cause that would be weird.  I think it was a car accident or something.  But I’m not really sure.  I mean, I never asked.  It’s not something you just ask.  Like, hi Karine, how’d your dad die?”

            “Yeah,” agreed Cerise.

            “That would suck.  You know, having a dead dad.”

            “Yeah,” Cerise nodded.

            “It must be hard for her,” Jay sighed wistfully.

            “Maybe that’s why she’s such a bitch,” Cerise couldn’t help saying.

“She’s not a bitch!”  Jay seemed genuinely offended.  “She’s just popular and pretty.  And I mean that’s how they are.  You know, people who are popular and pretty.  It’s not her fault.”

Was he serious?  Was he really going to make excuses for Karine Cavalière’s total bitchitude?  Was he really going to use her attractiveness as an excuse for that bitchiness?  It was with a sinking heart that Cerise realized she had a crush on a complete and utter moron.

“Well she was pretty mean to me in gym,” said Cerise petulantly.

“How so?”

“I dunno.”

“No seriously, like what’d she do?  What’d she say?”

“I dunno, just like calling me Cherry and stuff.”

“But everyone does that.”

Cerise looked at Jay wryly and he smiled and shrugged.  “Well sorry but it’s true.  It doesn’t make Karine a bitch.”

“Well it’s her attitude.  It’s the way she says it.”

“Like how?”

“I dunno!  God, nevermind.”

“No seriously…”

Cerise interrupted with a loud sigh. 

“Yeah well,” Jay shrugged.  “Maybe she was just having a bad day.  I mean you can’t blame her ‘cause she has to hang out with that stupid boyfriend of hers.  It’s bound to make anyone go insaniac.”

Cerise couldn’t even say anything to that.  She wanted to be angry with Jay for being so incredibly stupid but she couldn’t even muster up the appropriate emotions.  All she felt was sadness, which was compounded by the boys darting out of the school and accosting Jay, accusing him of abandoning his station at The Wall and losing his dedication.  They all rushed off together, completely ignoring Cerise and she was forced to walk home alone again.

When she got home she went straight to her room to cry.  She looked in the mirror at her stupid, ugly face.  It was no wonder Jay hated her and loved Karine.  Karine was beautiful, with green eyes and high cheekbones and full lips and perfectly arched eyebrows.  She even looked like she could be on TV.  Cerise by contrast was completely and utterly hideous. 

Unless she was smiling she always looked upset because her lipline was naturally downturned.  But it was somehow hard to remember to smile when meeting people because she got so nervous.  Did she come across as a bitch?  Did people think she was always frowning even if she wasn’t?  And when she did frown it was even worse because her forehead had what Simone called the Romulan scowl: deep grooves that appeared above her brows and made her look like an alien anytime she was upset.  That’s the main reason she always kept her bangs long.

At least her hair was a pretty colour, so she really wasn’t totally unattractive, although in the sunlight her natural red highlights became visible and while strawberry blonde hair was nice in theory, Cerise didn’t want to be associated with another fruity word.

Things definitely could have been worse.  She really wasn’t too ugly at all, if she was being honest.  Her big, dark blue eyes were nice even though they were framed with thin, pale lashes that could definitely benefit from mascara, if she were inclined to make the effort towards finding some products she wasn’t allergic to.

Lipstick was also a problem, as every one she’d ever tried made her break out in an itchy rash.  Fortunately gloss was safe and managed to give her lips a nice, rosy shine.  Her cheeks also had a natural flush that didn’t require enhancement, which was actually kind of embarrassing because if she ever blushed she turned into a giant, walking tomato. 

Cerise sucked in her cheeks.  Her cheekbones were high and if she could just lose ten pounds her face would be attractively heart shaped instead of being so childishly round.  Oh well, at least she had a nice nose. Both Julie and Simone had inherited their mother’s hawk nose but Cerise had a perfect little button nose, not that it was useful for breathing out of.  With all her allergies Cerise couldn’t sleep unless she was breathing from her mouth and the dentist said she was at risk for gingivitis because of it.  Everything in her life sucked.

Cerise examined her eyebrows, remembering her mental note to check her hairyness levels.  Her brows were nicely shaped and because her hair was so pale, she’d always felt that the few errant hairs didn’t need plucking.  But now that she thought about it, she should probably pluck them anyway, just in case a boy ever got close enough to her face to notice them, which would probably never happen since she was such a loser, but still.  She snuck into Simone’s room to borrow her tweezers and pulled out the unnecessary hairs.  When a few tears dropped from her eyes she was glad to have a physical reason for the pain.

She decided to take a shower after the grooming since the hot water might calm her down.  It was a hot day but Cerise liked to take hot showers anyway.  She knew this wasn’t good for her dry skin but she enjoyed the heat.  At least her dry skin meant she didn’t need to worry about acne.  Her skin was so extremely dry that in the winter she even used Vaseline as a moisturizer. 

She scrubbed herself with a poofy sponge, enjoying the smell of the fruit-scented body-wash.  Angela thought it was amusing to buy cherry or raspberry scented products but Cerise absolutely refused to use them.  She always threw them out of her mother’s shopping cart and replaced them with less offensively fruit scented things.  Her shampoo had a pleasant citrus aroma and after washing her hair she covered it in conditioner since she was prone to static, though it wasn’t as bad since she’d cut her hair relatively short.  The short do was also less maintenance, which meant she could sleep in just that much longer in the morning.

Cerise couldn’t help but examine her body in the mirror as she began the ritual moisturization that kept her skin from being all gross and flaky.  She would never, ever get breast implants because there was no way she was going to give in to misogynistic marketing and the social pressure to be a Barbie doll but maybe if she met a genie and got three wishes one of them would be to have bigger breasts.  She cupped them in her hands and shoved them upwards, wondering what she’d look like with cleavage.  She’d caught Jay staring at Karine’s breasts before.  What might it be like to have a perfect body?  Maybe if she waited a few years she’d grow some more.  Or maybe not.  All the women in her family were flat-chested.  There was no escaping her crappy DNA. 

If only the fat in her belly could somehow migrate north.  Her huge protruding stomach made her look pregnant, or like white trash.  She turned sideways and sucked in her gut, liking the way her abdominal muscles suddenly became evident.  She stuck out her chest and noticed the outline of her ribs appear.  Now if only she could go through life without breathing, she’d look ok. 

She let out her breath and her stomach sagged out.  But if she stood up straight and pushed her shoulders back she still looked alright.  She turned around and strained to see her backside in the mirror.  Was it totally conceited to think she had a nice butt?  It was kinda cute and she liked her hips too, even though Julie made fun of her size 8 pants.  Cerise traced her fingers over the white stretch marks on her hips, knowing she should be grossed out by them, but actually feeling proud.  The roundness of her hips made her feel like a woman.

Too bad she didn’t have any muscles though.  She really needed to start working out.  Julie was totally athletic and even Simone was nicely toned but Cerise was all flab.  But exercise was so boring and she couldn’t play sports because she was too uncoordinated and had no sense of balance.  This might be due to her small feet.  They were a size 6, which was exceptionally small considering her height.  Both Julie and Simone wore size 8, which sucked because it meant she couldn’t borrow their shoes but it was also good because it meant they couldn’t borrow hers.

Cerise knew she shouldn’t be proud of her tiny feet since she should reject the whole Cinderella, damsel in distress thing, but she couldn’t help it, her feet really were very pretty, or as pretty as feet could be.  She should buy some sandals.  But then she might get freckles on her flawless feet and that couldn’t be risked.

Cerise’s fear of freckles contributed to her wardrobe choices as much as her modesty did.  Even though her skin was dry and pale at least it was only her face that was freckled, and her arms to a lesser degree.  Her legs and torso were freckle-free and completely white.  She didn’t mind the paleness, especially not since the Twilight books had come out.  When she’d been younger she’d been called Ghosty and Casper but being called a vampire was kind of cool.  Though it wouldn’t be so bad to be a little darker.  Just dark enough so that her veins wouldn’t be so visible.  Was it completely gross that thin blue lines could be seen snaking down her chest?  Probably.  If a boy ever saw her naked he’d most likely puke from the horror.

How weird was it that people with dark skin always wanted to be paler?  Wasn’t it a thing in black culture to want to be pale?  People with dark skin were lucky to be able to tan and… Cerise stopped herself, horrified by her own cultural insensitivity.  How could she even compare her meaningless problems with the centuries of racism that people of colour had to endure?  What would the Green Girls think if they knew she was so wilfully ignorant? 

She really was a horrible person for scrutinizing her ugliness like it mattered.  Hell, she wasn’t even ugly, not really.  Plain maybe but not some horrifying troll creature.  She was basically attractive, white and middle-class and had always led a privileged life.  She should be happy, not crying over that ass-wipe Jay.  The biggest problem she’d ever encountered was her parents’ divorce and that hadn’t even been that big of a deal.

Her parents hadn’t even fought.  They’d just grown apart and slowly stopped interacting.  It had been awkward and for about a year there was a weird silence in the house, like everyone was afraid to acknowledge that Angela had started sleeping in the guest bedroom and their dad Robert no longer ate dinner with the rest of them.  But then Julie had broken the silence and started randomly yelling at everyone for everything and then their father left.  He got a job in Quebec City and moved away and one day Angela announced that they were officially divorced and they were moving to a small house in Beaconsfield.  Julie had lost her shit but Cerise had been happy.  It was the perfect opportunity to switch schools. 

Cerise’s sense of guilt grew as she acknowledged, not for the first time that there were millions of kids out there devastated by their parents’ separations and she had profited from it.  She didn’t even miss her dad.  It was easier to live in an all female household.  They could talk about their periods and clean their underwear in the bathroom sink and watch girly TV.  She wondered if her father missed her.  Probably not.  They’d never really had much of a relationship.  It was her mother who’d raised them, not her father.  All he’d ever done was work late and go to hockey games and stuff.  Whatever, what were fathers good for anyway?  She knew this was probably a blasphemous thing to think, especially now that she knew Karine Cavalière’s father was dead but still, she wasn’t the least bit bothered by her father’s absence from her life.  Not the least bit. 

Cerise threw on some shorts and a tank top, clothes she would only dare wear in the privacy of her own home and skipped downstairs to make herself a big bowl of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream.  She plopped herself down in front of the computer in the living room and checked her email.  No messages obviously.

The house was a split level so it was only a few steps to get to the basement, where she flopped down in front of the TV and turned the channel to Space.  She should probably do some yoga or something instead of contributing to the bulk of her belly but Stargate was on and she’d only seen this episode three times.  It was the one where Daniel Jackson came back from ascension totally naked!

Season 1 - Episode 2 - Act I

            Cerise looked at herself in the mirror as she got dressed for school on Tuesday morning.  Was she ugly?  Was that it?  Was that why Jay and the boys always avoided her after school?  She ate with them at lunch and went on the run with them but they never wanted to hang outside of school.  Cerise wasn’t making any progress with the Green Girls either.  She’d managed to pair up with Marla Fitzpatrick during gym on Thursday but Friday she’d been stuck with Shauna again.  Maybe she was doomed to be alone for the rest of her life.  She’d never have any real friends and she’d certainly never have a boyfriend.  The whole world was made of suck.

            Christina glided to school on a cloud of self-contentment.  She joined Karine and Erica and announced that she and Terry were finally back on track.  Ignoring her friends’ disbelieving glances she went on to explain how they’d had an awesome and romantic weekend of babysitting his little sister.  Erica couldn’t understand how dealing with baby barf was romantic but Christina explained that it was as though they were married or something.

            Erica gagged audibly.  “Oh my god!  That is just so wrong on so many levels.  That isn’t romance.  That’s just sick.”

            Karine couldn’t help but agree but Christina insisted that she and Terry had really connected.

            “You still think you’re in love with him?” asked Karine doubtfully.

            “Oh my god!  So much!”

            Erica shook her head in exasperation.  “Ok, listen Chrissy.  Terry may be like, way hot and I’m sure he’s like, you know, a really good lay.  But come on.  He’s not the type of guy you fall for.”

            “Why not?”

            “Because he will never fall for you.”

            Though no official statistics are available on the subject, were one to poll West Island students on the efficacy of French teachers in English schools one would no doubt discover that they are generally believed to be completely useless pieces of shit.  So it was hardly a surprise that while William Watts was delivering his oral presentation on his favourite Québecois singer, Madame Roptin had fallen asleep.

            “Daniel Bélanger a fait beaucoup de chanson.  Il chante très bien.  It est très populaire dans Québec.  Mais le reste du monde ne le connait pas parce-que il n’est pas aussi beau que Eric Lapointe. ”

            Madame Roptin actually started to snore.  The students tried very hard not to laugh.  They didn’t want to wake her.

            Willy went on with his presentation.  “Et en conclusion je dois dire que Madame Roptin est très laide et stupide and she wears enough makeup to cover all the Francos in Florida.”

            Now the class couldn’t help but laugh.  Vani even started clapping, which prompted the rest of the Enriched French students to applaud as well.  It was a shining moment for Willy.  Not only were the boys clapping but Cerise and Sarah and even Karine Cavalière were going along with it.  Madame Roptin woke with a start and blinked at Willy in confusion.  She told him he’d done well and then asked Jonah Cupryk to give his presentation, which was on Céline Dion, a fact that elicited annoyed groans from the class. 

            Running on the high from the earlier applause, Willy announced that Jojo’s choice was lame so Madame Roptin chided him for his rudeness, declaring that the class had been courteous enough to listen to his speech and he should do the same for others.  The hypocrisy of Roptin’s scolding was too much for Willy to bear and he asked her if she was serious but did so in English.  She told him to repeat the question in French, which he did, but as was typical when he was forced to think in French, he stuttered over his words.  The class laughed but now they were laughing at him, which wasn’t exactly unusual but it was unfair since it was all Roptin’s fault, that stupid bitch and Jojo’s fault, that little prick.  Willy would need to remember to stuff him in a locker or something later on.

            Cerise now felt comfortable enough with the boys to sit with them at lunch without hesitation.  They always seemed pleased enough to see her, or at least they didn’t seem entirely displeased, although she had noticed that sometimes their conversations abruptly stopped when she came along.  Today that wasn’t the case.  As she took her seat, Willy continued his rant against Madame Roptin, declaring her to be a harpy bitch and insisting they begin calling her Madame Rotten.

            Karl rolled his eyes.  “People have been calling her Madame Rotten since the 20^th century, Willy.  Try to keep up.”

            “She’s evil.  Pure evil.  I swear she has it in for me,” Willy pouted.

            “Don’t we all?” Jay grinned.

            “I certainly do,” Karl agreed.  “Willy, do you suppose Rotten’s disdain for you could have anything to do with the fact that your French sucks?  What are you doing in Enriched French anyway?”

            “I don’t know!”  Willy admitted but he went on to say that his French language skills or lack thereof didn’t excuse Rotten’s inability to stay awake during his presentation.

            “Willy, no offence but your presentation sucked,” said Cerise.  “It was about how Daniel Bélanger isn’t as good looking as Eric Lapointe.  I mean what the hell?”

            “Yeah really,” said Vani.  “You got a thing for Eric Lapointe or something?”

            Willy scowled and tried to get the conversation back on topic but now Karl was declaring that Willy had always been a bit queer as folk.

            Cerise interrupted before Vani and Jay could give more examples of Willy’s queerness by pointing out that his oral had no relation to the assignment.

            “Yes it did!  We were just supposed to talk about a singer, right?”

            “All we had to do was identify the theme of one of their songs,” explained Cerise.  “And we were supposed to bring in a CD of that song and then listen to it.”

            “We were?”

            “Didn’t you notice how everyone else had a CD?”

            “Which is so stupid!” Karl barked.  “Why couldn’t we just play the songs on our ipods?  I had to waste an entire disk just to burn one song?  Retardovision!”

            “Whatever!” Willy whined.  “Rotten fell asleep during my thing.  I mean, hello!  That’s messed up, right?”

            “Willy’s got a point.”  Jay nodded.  “Or should I say he’s got an Eric Lapointe.  And now he’s got a pointe in his pants for Eric’s pointe…”

            “Ok,” Cerise sighed.  “We get it.  Very clever.”

            “No wait, I did have a point,” Jay insisted.  “I mean, not a pointe point but a real um, point.  Why should we put any effort into our assignments if Rotten’s not even gonna pay attention?  That’s just retardovision.  I mean, she prob’ly just grades based on who she likes.”

            “In which case only Sarah Wong will pass,” mused Karl.

            “Seriously, how can she grade me if she fell asleep?” Willy sulked.  “Rotten needs a beating big time.”

            Vani rested his chin on his hand and nodded seriously.  “Despite your lack of personal hygiene, Wilhemina, you do speak the truth.  Rotten must be punished.  But how?”

            “Leave it to me,” Karl smiled devilishly. 

            At Terry’s insistence he and Andrew moved their picnic table so it would be partially covered by the shade of a tree.  He knew Karine liked to sit in the sun, so he angled the table in such a way that half of it was exposed to the light, while the other half was in the shade.  Once he was satisfied with the table’s placement, he sat on the bench with his back to the table and reclined lazily.  The others joined him, Karine perching on top of the table with her legs over Steven’s shoulders.  Andrew sat across from Terry and Erica was next to him, half in the sun, half in the shade.  Christina climbed onto the table and sat next to Karine, her legs dangling down at Terry’s side.

            Chrissy was in a skirt again today.  She wore skirts a lot, probably aware of what nice legs she had.  But Terry wouldn’t be tempted to touch them.  He closed his eyes and tried not to think about Chrissy’s body.

Erica lit a cigarette and covered her eyes dramatically, announcing that she was about to go blind.  “And I’m not even kidding.  Having to look at these losers is hazardous to my health.”

            “No one’s forcing you to look,” sighed Terry, leaning his head back and wondering if he could find a comfortable position in which to take a nap.

            “How can you not?  It’s like a car accident.  You can’t look away, it’s just too horrible.”

            “I dunno,” shrugged Andrew.  “There’s some eye candy ‘round here.”

            “Uh, doubtful,” Erica scoffed.

            “Check out the chick in the pink tank top.  She’s got possibilities.”

            “Eww, like even.”  Erica scrunched up her nose in disgust.  “Can you say skank?”

            “Exactly,” grinned Andrew. 

            Steven and Terry chuckled and Karine playfully shoved Steve’s head. 

            “Um, eww,” said Christina.  “You shouldn’t dress like that if you’re going to school.  She looks like she’s going to the VMAs.”

            Terry scanned the lawn for the pink-tank-top girl and then peered at Chrissy.  “She doesn’t look any different from you,” he said.

            Everyone laughed except Chrissy.  She was probably hurt but Terry refused to look at her face.  Instead he grabbed the apple Karine had neglected to eat and took a big bite.

            “Yeah!” laughed Andrew.  “I’m all over that shit.  I say we go pick up.”

            “Nah, she’s not my type,” said Terry, finishing off the apple in three bites and throwing it inside the nearby garbage can.

            Andrew hopped off the picnic table and walked towards the pink girl.  “Hey bitch!”

            “What do you think he has planned?” Cerise asked Jay as they entered Enriched English. 

            “Knowing Karl it probably involves a flow chart of some kind.”

            Jay looked as though he was going to say more but then he spotted Karine Cavalière sitting at her desk and playing with her cell phone.  He gazed at her in transparent admiration and walked by her desk even though it was completely unnecessary to go that route to get to his seat.  But he got what was coming to him when he stumbled over a nearby chair.  Karine looked up and snickered as he sheepishly lowered himself into his seat.  Before going back to her cell phone Karine made eye-contact with Cerise and shot her a dirty look.  God, what was her damage?

            Christina approached Terry tentatively.  She’d been all around the school grounds looking for him.  She knew he had a free period and would most likely be outside smoking.  Finally she found him sitting under a tree near the soccer field.

            “Hi Terry.”

            Terry sighed and barely looked up.  “Do you like, want something?”

            “No.  I mean yeah.  I guess.”

            “What?”

            Christina tried to smile flirtatiously and she flicked her long, dark hair over her shoulder.  She stood above Terry, lifting the heel of her right foot and digging the toe of her sandal into the ground, knowing this would give Terry an attractive view of her leg.  He just stared at her like she was made of fug.  She lifted an eyebrow suggestively and tried to grin even more flirtatiously.

            “Are you like, gonna puke or something?” wondered Terry.

            “No.”  Christina’s shoulder’s slumped.

            “Listen.  I didn’t come out here to be bugged.  I want to be alone.  Why are you like, following me all the time?”

            “I’m not following you.”

            “So go away then.”

            “Terry, I thought we had fun this weekend.”

            “Yeah well, so what?” Terry shrugged.

            “So like… you know.”

            Terry puffed on his cigarette and looked away.

            “Do you wanna…” Christina went on.

            “No, I don’t wanna.”

            “I just thought…”

            “You really shouldn’t you know.  I mean think.  It doesn’t suit you.”

            Terry stood up and flicked away his cigarette.  He walked away but Christina followed. 

            “Wait!”

            “What?” Terry asked angrily.

            “Well, like… are we still, you know?”

            “Still?”  Terry looked incredulous.  “Gimme a break, Chrissy.  We never were.”