Short blonde curls held in place with a red headband. Crisp white t-shirt tucked into tight black jeans. Normally I don’t approve of physical violence, but in this case I might have to make an exception.

“What are you staring at?” My roommate George asks. We’re sitting in the dining hall, having lunch.

“Who,” I correct her.

“What?”

“Who, not what.”

“Whatever,” She takes a bite of her pizza. “Who then?”

“Mika.” George looks confused so I reiterate. “The girl who spread those rumors about Me.”

“The one about you sleeping with the English lit. Professor?”

“No,” I scowl. “The other one.”

“Oh, you mean the one about you being a dyke.”

“That’s the one.” I groan. “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Remember what I told you about assault?” I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s illegal and rude.”

I leave our table and walk outside where Mika and her little crew are sitting. I slide into the bench next to Mika, much to the disdain of her friends who quickly find the need to get up and leave.

“Hi Ari,” the perky little princess greets me, before casually taking a sip of her drink. “How are you?”

“How you think?” I ask right back.

“Oh.” She smirks slightly. “You’re still mad.”

“Do I even know you?” I ask incredulously. Sure, she was in my semi-compulsory suicidal tendency inducing world history class, but it’s not like we sat next to each other and shared sparkly highlighters. Do they even make sparkly highlighters? But I’m getting off topic here…

“You poured a drink on some poor guy at a frat party.”

“Oh, yeah.” I remember the night actually; the guy thought that he could get into my pants simply with some old pick-up line. I have higher standards, thank you very much. “That’s not the point,” I say angrily. “That doesn’t mean I’m a dyke.”

“Well you’re definitely not a lipstick lesbian.” And with that she picks up her plate and glass and gets up.

“I’m not done with you,” I get up and follow her as she places her dishes on the conveyor belt that takes them to the kitchen. She doesn’t say anything, but heads towards the exit of the dining hall. I follow her down the stairs and grab her arm, pushing her up against the wall.

“Now wait a fucking minute,” I’m standing right up against her, keeping her arms pinned to her side. “You can’t just call me a dyke and get away with it.”

“Really?” She asks, acting dumb. “I thought I did.”

“Why I oughta…” I swear the temptation to punch her was getting really strong. But for some reason she didn’t look too worried.

“Now Ari, you’re not too bright are you?” The girl was just begging for a black eye. “I mean, if anyone were to see us now...” she smirks. “It sure doesn’t look like we’re fighting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mika leans in close and whispers in my ear.

“I’ll give you a hint: you’re straddling me.” I grimace and pull away from her.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Oh calm down Ari,” She sighs. “It’s not like you’re not the only lesbian here.”