AN: This story will eventually be rated M, just to warn you. It will deal a little with alcohol, drugs, sex and will also address relationships between teachers/students. That’s not what the whole plot is based on but I’m just warning people this kind of thing will be in there...if I finish it :)

Screwed up Fairy Tales of the Socially Awkward

Chapter 1

The bathroom stall burst open. Clang bam! Stacy Kersotch stood before me with a florescent green lighter clutched in her little fingers and an unlit cigarette drooping from her black painted lips.

I knew it was coming. I’d seen Stacy’s muddy combat boots stalk slowly along the tile then stop right in front of the stall door. I’d even counted down the seconds to impact, 3…2…1…

“What the hell are you doing in here?” She asked through her teeth and cigarette. Looking at her thin brows and pale face, the curtain of black hair that fell into her eyes, I tried to imagine the tiny blond I’d known in elementary school. The image wouldn’t conjure. Not even her eyes were the aqua blue I remembered. She was wearing purple cat-eye contacts. It was an intimidating effect.

“I’m finishing my Bio assignment.”

“In the bathroom?”

I honestly don’t blame her for the incredulous look. I’d give it too if I was in her position. Sitting fully clothed on a school toilet with your bio book on your lap during lunch is not what anyone would call normal. But then, pushing open an occupied stall isn’t either. I wondered for a half a moment if maybe Stacy Kersotch might also be a lesbian.

“It’s quiet in here.” I shrugged then dumbly pointed to the window, aware of the snickers coming from behind Stacy’s shoulders. “And the light is really good.”

“I told everyone to get out.” Stacy spat. Her lip sneered as she swept her kohl darkened eyes over me. “So are you deaf or just stupid?”

“Uh, neither.”

Stacy shook her head. “Nope, it has to be one or the other. And since you seem to be hearing me fine, I’m guessing you’re just stupid.”

When she said the last word, Stacy’s brows lifted a little higher, her smirk cut a little deeper into her cheek. I dropped my eyes to the floor.

“I was almost finished.” I murmured.

“Nope. Wrong again. You are finished. So pack up your stuff and get out.”

I closed my book and stuffed it into my back pack. With my eyes down I slipped out of the stall past Stacy. Her friends Jessica and Liss were both leaning against the sinks watching my exit with identical smirks. Unlike Stacy, they’d already lit up and were shielded by a thin screen of smoke.

“Ta, ta, sweet ums” Liss sang as I pushed out the door.

“And people call me a freak.” I could hear Jessica say.

I bit back the choke in my throat, the sting in my eyes. Water off a duck’s back, I told myself while taking a deep breath. I couldn’t think about Stacy Kersotch right now. I had to focus on Biology. Another late assignment and I’d fail.

Some people can study through anything. Giselle is like that – well, when she had homework to study. We could be in the middle of a hurricane with the lockers flying off the walls and she’d find some way to memorize this weeks vocabulary words. Me? I can’t even focus on what I want to eat for breakfast without opening the refrigerator fifteen times and finally remembering: oh yeah, OJ! The stall had been ideal for a mind wanderer like me. It was small with little distraction since everyone usually used the bathrooms near the cafeteria. Now because of Stacy I had four questions left on my Biology homework and no where to finish it.

The library was being remodeled. Since jack hammering is not the most soothing of noises, I could count the Library out. Lunch hour was almost over too so the halls were crowded with students goofing around before the bell rang. There was no way I was going to find a quiet corner to do my homework. This left me with only one option: Mr. Perry.

Even though I’d been headed his way since I left the bathrooms, I was still debating with myself whether or not I should turn around, mumbling under my breath every excuse. Unfortunately when I looked down I found my feet had already led me to his office.

I knocked on his door half wondering if he would answer. He did.

“Hey.” He said, grinning after seeing it was me. “What’s up?”

“Are you busy?”

He held up a half eaten sandwich. It explained the crumbs on his dress shirt. “Very.”

“Oh,” I sighed in feign disappointment. “Well, I guess I’ll have to find someplace else then.”

When I turned to leave he grabbed my arm, laughing. “Corinne, get in here.”

Mr. Perry shut the door behind us and the hall was drowned into silence. His lunch was laid out on his desk: Coke, Doritos, a Snicker’s bar and the crusts of his ham sandwich. You’d think he was a student by that menu.

“So is this a social visit?” He asked sitting behind the desk while I fell into the chair opposite him. “Or did you forget your homework again?”

“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t start it until now.”

He suddenly looked tired. “I thought we made a schedule for you.”

“I know but Giselle needed me over last night and…”

“She needed you over?”

My shoulders slouched. “Okay, she wanted to hang out. But it doesn’t matter because I only have Biology homework today and I’m almost finished with it too.”

“Corinne…” He didn’t sound convinced.

“I’m serious!” I pulled out my Bio book and flipped to where I’d stuffed my assignment. “See? Four questions. I just needed a quiet place to work. It’s Normandy out there.”

“You know lunch ends in,” He checked his watch. “Eight minutes.”

“I know.”

“Are you going to finish in time?”

“I’m going to try, if you’ll stop talking and let me work.”

I was going to try. Honest. I scanned the book for where I’d left off before Stacy kicked me out when suddenly the assignment paper was whisked from my fingers. I hated myself, but I hid a smile.

“What are you doing?” I innocently asked, knowing full well what he was up to.

He glanced up catching my eyes with a look I’d grown familiar with. It used to make me curious. Now it just made me feel guilty. “This is the last time.” He murmured through a half grin. Mr. Perry reached for my Biology book next. With my homework spread before him, he quickly began underlying the answers in the book.

“I really was going to do it myself.”

“In eight minutes, huh?”

“I didn’t say I’d get them all right.”

He pushed the assignment paper toward me, tapping on the first answer. I started writing as fast as I could while he moved onto the next.

“Isn’t Biology the class that’s hanging by a thread?”

“Yes.” My voice was quiet.

“So you need at least an 80 on this.”

I nodded.

“And instead of doing it last night you went out with Giselle and brought it to me instead.”

“No.” I sat up indignantly. Mr. Perry was still hovered over the book scanning pages. “I’ve been doing it for the last hour and would have finished in time except I got interrupted.”

“You know how to stop that.” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “I can still talk to your mom if want.”

“I don’t want.”

Mr. Perry’s head lifted so that he was looking at me from under his brows. He put the pencil down and leaned back in his chair. “Corinne this isn’t going to go away unless you treat it. She’ll understand-”

“It wasn’t that kind of interruption.” I cut him off. “I was totally focused and zoned in. It was outside forces. Completely uncontrollable.”

“Oh?”

He waited for me to explain but the bathroom incident was still a little tender. I ducked my head and began writing again. It was a moment later I saw him pick up the pencil and turn back to my Biology book. I was grateful he didn’t press the question, but then Mr. Perry never did. He always knew when to back off.

The minute bell rang just as we finished.

“Thank you.” I said, gathering my things. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

“You always say that.”

“I mean it this time.”

He nodded disbelievingly then picked up his bag of Doritos and tossed it at me.

“What’s this?” I asked, turning the bag in my fingers.

“Didn’t you say you studied through lunch?”

I grinned. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I know.”

The solemn way he said it made my smile falter. I felt that guilt again only it was mixed with the curious too. Suddenly I was angry at Stacy for turning into a bitch and forcing me to come see him.

“You’re going to be late and I’m not writing you a pass no matter how much I like you.”

“Okay, I’m leaving.” I groaned. “I’ll see you in Seventh.”

“On time would be nice.”

I shut the door so he couldn’t see my eyes roll.

xxx

As soon as Mrs. Hossinger handed our assignments back I’d quickly stuffed the sheet into my binder, too afraid to see the score, which was why when Mr. Perry asked me how I’d done on my Bio assignment during Art History I honestly couldn’t tell him. It was still buried at the bottom of my back pack.

I pulled it out while waiting for the bus to arrive just outside the school. Apprehension. That’s what I was feeling. The highest I’d ever gotten on one of Mrs. Hossinger’s assignments was a 79 - not the greatest comfort for someone a few points away from failing the class. My eyes were pinched tight but as I turned the sheet over I warily peeked at my red-inked score.

Eighty-seven. Eighty-seven! I held it to my chest and squealed.

“Hey Corinne!”

When I looked up it was to find Giselle’s Ford Tempo sputtering into the parking lot. She was leaning out the driver’s side window waving her arm, drawing not just my attention but half the school as well.

“Check it out! Am I a god or what?” She practically screamed even though she wasn’t more than ten feet from me now.

My cheeks were pink, I knew it. I picked up my bag, trying not to think of all the eyes trained in on me at the moment. Yet, my glance darted left and I saw Stacy and her friends, black clad, leaning against the school exit. She caught me looking, grinned and flipped me off.

“You’re Jesus incarnate.” I huffed, slamming the door shut as I climbed into the car with Giselle, hoping we’d be out of there before cat-calling began. “Anyone who saves me a bus ride with Sheldon Forester’s gas is my own personal savior.”

Giselle smacked me in the arm. “Blasphemy!” She giggled then turned up the radio. “You’re going to hell for sure.”

“Wrong, I just left it.”

Giselle pulled out of the parking lot and sped off toward the main road. Her wild red hair flipped about her face as she drove. “High School is not Hell, Corinne. High School is the best four years of your life.”

She said it with the most sincere conviction so that if I didn’t know Giselle had dropped out her Junior year, I might have believed her. “But speaking of Satan and his minions, was that Stacy Kersotch I just saw dressed like one of the undead?”

“They prefer Neo Goth – slash – Punk, I think.”

“More like, I just crawled out of a Tim Burton – slash – Dracula nightmare.”

Ignoring Zell’s fit of laughter, I glanced down at her Winnie the Pooh slippers.

“Did you just get up?”

“Of course. I’ve been sick all morning, didn’t you know?” She sent me a sly look and grinned. “You don’t really expect me to work while those two are in Vegas, do you?”

Giselle works reception part time at her Dad’s Emergency Equipment store which is basically a warehouse for natural disaster relief. I had been reeled into ‘volunteering’ on more than one occasion whenever a big shipment of MRE’s or water canisters came in. Personally, I don’t think it’s half bad, but Zell hates it. She’s always finding excuses not to go in, especially when her Dad’s on one of his ‘business trips’ with the latest Mrs. Parton.

“Won’t your Dad find out when he gets back?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “Who cares? What’s he going to do? Fire me? It’s just one day.”

“He might be pretty pissed.”

“For all he knows, I really am sick. If he was any kind of father he’d fly home from his weekend with the bitch the moment he hears about it. But he won’t, you know why Cor? Because he doesn’t give a shit.”

She was grinning as if it was all some kind of inside joke but I knew behind the grin her Dad’s trip was pissing her off. That’s why she’d shown up after school, why I was in her car and why she suddenly switched gears a moment later.

“So to celebrate Gomez and Morticia’s get away, I’m kidnapping you to my house where we will eat, drink and be merry until we can’t walk straight.”

“Oh.” I pulled my back pack onto my lap almost trying to hide behind the straps.

“What?” She began, sensing my reluctance. “Don’t tell me your mom is gonna care?”

Mom? Care? She’d been taking so many extra shifts lately she was exhausted by the time she finally made it home. I didn’t think my presence, or lack there of, would make much of a difference when she was overworked and passed out on her bed. No, the person I was thinking of was Mr. Perry.

“I don’t know Giselle. I’ve got a paper due tomorrow and I’m no where close to finishing.”

“Just skip school and turn it in Monday.” She shrugged.

“I can’t do that again. There’s only so many times Mr. Holstead will buy my Flu excuse.”

“Ah, jeez, Corinne. You really know how to torpedo a fun night.” She slammed her fist on the horn at the Oldsmobile unfortunate enough to cut her off. “Learn to drive Asshole!”

I clutched the arm rest as Giselle took a sharp left. The crease between her eyes had grown an inch or two and despite telling myself staying the night at Giselle’s would only end in two massive hangovers, I felt a twinge of guilt. Besides, not going would leave her to wallow in her own devices which was never good.

“If I finish the first draft I guess I could revise it in the writing lab before school.” I hedged, wondering what time the writing lab even opened in the morning and if I’d be straight enough to make it before classes.

“Excellent!” Giselle’s mood changed immediately. I knew there was no turning back now. “You got your stuff with you?”

“Uh…” I made a mental inquiry of my back pack, “Yeah I think. Most of it at least.”

“Good, you can use my laptop then. You might even find something on the internet to cut apart and use as filler. You can find anything on the internet. What’s your paper on?”

“Symbolism in The Chrysanthemums.”

“Yeah, see. There’s loads of stuff on flowers. The Queen bitch is always surfing for her rose garden.”

“Well this is a short story by Steinbeck actually.”

She dismissed my correction with a wave of her hand. “Either way. I’ll hook you up. And you know my laptop works a hell of lot faster than your chunky old computer anyway.”

“Okay. Just as long as I finish the first draft.”

“No problem.”