She Walks in Shadows(31)
“Not unless you can control yourself!” she shouted angrily, slamming the door in his face after he whined something at her that Veronica couldn’t hear.
Then Asenath noticed her cousin sitting there as she came around to the driver’s side. Veronica, remembering Ms. Van Helder’s admonition, timidly raised her hand in a greeting. Asenath laughed, blew her a kiss as she slid into the driver’s seat. She pulled away just as Veronica’s mother drove up.
“How was your first day?” her mother called out the window.
“Great, Mom,” lied Veronica. “Really great.”
Veronica, mindful of her Bible Camp pledge, tried to forgive Asenath for her antics — she really did — but it became increasingly difficult, given how her cousin seemed to want nothing more than to shock the whole school. Every day, she came in wearing a different appalling outfit — tweed blazers and slacks, Hawaiian shirts and brightly-colored shorts, leather jackets and jeans — and with some new girl on her arm, inevitably giggling like it wasn’t social and spiritual suicide for her to go out with a woman. Veronica was mortified, and the worst part was, she didn’t even have cheering as a respite. Whenever Asenath showed up in her mascot’s outfit to practice, the girls went crazy, mobbing her like she was the captain of the football team. Veronica thought that was sick, but she couldn’t say anything — Beth, the team captain, had gone out with Asenath a few times. “She’s the best-looking boy in school,” was her only comment when Veronica remarked on the queerness of it all.
Interestingly enough, for once, the cheerleaders were in the minority in terms of popular opinion; they might coo over Asenath, but the rest of Miskatonic High did not. Girls whispered whenever she walked by; guys shouted epithets. Veronica sensed Asenath was enjoying the attention and would have been more than happy to let Asenath reap what she sowed, just like in Galatians … except Asenath’s refusal to act normally began to reflect poorly on her.
“You a dyke, too, Veronica?” shouted Dougie Smithers. The entire lunchroom heard him, given the laughter this sparkling wit produced. Veronica pushed away her half-finished pack of Handi-Snacks, the yellow cheese and buttery crackers now sawdust in her mouth. “Is it true that this Saturday, you’re gonna go cruising for chicks together?”
Veronica refused to acknowledge him, but in her heart, she was seething. It shouldn’t be like this. She was certain no other Varsity cheerleader had ever dealt with such scorn from her peers. Pretending to ignore Dougie and the rest, she put on her Walkman and grabbed her notebook. The rhymes of DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince became her world as she scribbled down some ideas for the new Varsity routine. Then, the notes blurred before her eyes when she had a sudden vision of her cousin prancing onto the field in her costume, proudly flaunting the inevitable catcalls and boos to stunt alongside the real cheerleaders.
She’d tried to forgive. She’d tried to forget. She’d been cordial to her, offering to let Asenath borrow her more feminine clothes if she needed to, and prayed for her in church, in the hopes that God would touch Asenath’s heart and help her return to the fold. But nothing had worked. Something had caused Asenath to give up everything — her popularity, her straight A average, her faith, the cheerleading squad — and Veronica couldn’t imagine what it could be.
Dougie slid onto the bench beside her, grabbing a cracker out of her Handi-Snack.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing Veronica’s headphones. “When you lick it, does it look like this?” And he pantomimed something obscene.
“Beware, ladies — he’s clearly no expert.” Asenath grabbed the boy by the collar and slung him off the bench. Dougie landed hard on his tailbone on the linoleum floor of the cafeteria with a thump and then a howl. The laughter was more sporadic than before. Veronica did not take part in it. “Sorry if he was bothering you, Veronica, but everyone knows I don’t cruise for chicks — they come cruising for me.”
“You’re disgusting.” For some reason, Veronica was angrier with Asenath than Dougie. She shoved her notebook into her backpack, snatched her headphones away from the boy still writhing on the ground, and stalked out of the lunchroom.
Once the door slammed behind her, Veronica totally lost it. She slumped against the lockers, tears running down her face. When the school board had announced their decision to integrate sex ed into the health curriculum last year, her daddy had threatened to put her in private school. Veronica had begged and pleaded to remain at Miskatonic because of her friends, because of cheering. Maybe this was her punishment for not being obedient to her father’s will.
“Hey.”
It was Asenath. Veronica dashed the tears from her eyes.
“What do you want?”
“To talk to you.” Asenath came closer. Today, she was wearing a button-down men’s Oxford tucked into high-waisted Guess jeans that somehow made her long legs look longer. “I’m sorry about what happened back there. Dougie’s a real jerk. But —”
“You’re sorry?” snarled Veronica. “Oh, great! I’m super-excited that you’re sorry for ruining my life, Asenath!”
“What?”
“People tease me all the time about … about being like you.” As she said it, Veronica knew how petty she sounded, but that just made her angrier. “And you’ve ruined cheering, too, prancing around in that stupid costume. They’ll shout us off the field the moment they see you!”