Boring Girls(10)

Leaving school at the end of that first day, I noticed a guy in the hallway. I hadn’t seen him last year. He looked a couple of grades older and was by himself. His hair was long, light brown, almost to his waist. And he was wearing a Bloodvomit shirt. I hadn’t seen a scowl like his other than on Balthazar Seizure’s face. I’d have to find out his name somehow.

xXx

I got to know the girl who’d talked to me that first day as the school year got underway. When we were left to work for the rest of the period on our colour wheels, she struck up a conversation.

“So my name’s Josephine,” she said casually, after Mr. Lee had handed out the paintbrushes.

“I’m Rachel.” I hoped I sounded as casual as she did. It’s so stupid: I am not an awkward person. I can communicate. I’m not stunted. But in school, I was just so damn uncertain and at that point, I was so used to being by myself, and I guess part of me really did want a friend.

“I just transferred here from Our Lady of Heaven. My family moved and it was too far to go there. Do you know anyone from there?”

I certainly didn’t know anyone from the Catholic high school. I mean, I didn’t even know anyone from this school. “Nope.”

“I still have a bunch of friends there, but I’m glad I’m not there anymore. All the religious stuff, it was just stupid.”

I nodded, dipping my brush into the red paint.

“My family isn’t that religious or anything,” Josephine continued. “We don’t go to church. It’s just that Our Lady was in our district. You wouldn’t believe how much they talk about God and stuff at that school. Every morning you pray first thing. And you have to take religion, it’s not an elective. They treat it like it’s as important as science and English. You have to go to Mass. I sure won’t miss that. And it’s also nice not having to wear that stupid uniform.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, staring at my work. I had no idea what to say.

But Josephine carried on, apparently oblivious to my awkwardness. “It’s going to suck only seeing my friends on the weekends, but whatever. I don’t really know anyone at this school at all. Are people nice here?”

“Nope.”

Josephine laughed, to my surprise. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard about this place. Glen Park’s full of *s. John Hespeler is the stoner school, Queen Liz has all the rich kids, and Glen Park’s got the *s.”

“My dad’s a teacher at John Hespeler,” I offered helpfully.

“Oh yeah? Does he smoke a lot of pot?”

We laughed. I started feeling more comfortable. “Fuck no. What are the kids at Our Lady like?”

“Really cool. It’s probably because most of them grew up with religion and stuff and their families are real strict. So they get pretty crazy. But there’s *s there too.”

For the rest of that period we talked. And we ended up having lunch together too. And every day after that.





FIVE


Mom was relieved that I’d found a friend. When I’d hole up in my room and listen to music and do my homework, she never complained about the bands or anything. She didn’t say a word about how I was dressing or wearing my hair. Neither did Dad. I think they were really happy that I was doing well that first term, that I’d talk about Josephine, and that my grades were good. I was pretty happy too. Sure, Josephine didn’t listen to any of the bands I liked, but that was okay. She didn’t make fun of me for it either.

We’d go shopping downtown sometimes on Saturdays, mostly looking for clothes and stuff in thrift stores. Neither one of us had a big enough allowance to shop at the trendy stores, but that was fine because neither one of us was interested in that crap. I was always looking for black stuff, or dark plaid, and old, tough-looking boots. She had more of a hippie thing going on and would look for long dresses and sweaters. We never had to compete when we’d find something cool, and we never judged each other on any of it. It was a beautiful autumn. As the leaves changed, I spent many afternoons with Josephine, chatting as we made our way downtown. I felt important because I was with a friend. I learned to relax with her and be myself, talking openly about how the kids at school made me sick. She’d encountered Brandi by this point, but Brandi had treated her like wallpaper, preferring to abuse kids who offended her in some way that Josephine didn’t.

She started inviting me to go to parties with her friends from Our Lady. They’d have them every few weeks. “They’re really nice people, you’ll like them,” she insisted. But I never went. The thought of going to a party was uncomfortable. Just because Josephine liked me and accepted me didn’t mean that her friends would. I imagined walking into a room filled with strangers who would totally reject me. The only person I would know there would be Josephine, and she’d abandon me to catch up with her real friends, and I’d be left sitting by myself surrounded by people having a great time with each other and totally ignoring me. It’s one thing when that happens at school; it’s quite another when you’ve chosen to be in that situation. I even worried that once Josephine’s friends rejected me, she would reject me. She’d realize that I was a total f*cking loser.