Girls Who Wear Pink

By Amy Ellis

Becky Miller spent her whole life following the rules and planning her prom night. She never fought with her friends, never got in trouble, and she certainly never skipped school. Until the day she met Jeff. 

When Becky took a bathroom break in the middle of math class, she wasn’t expecting to find Jeff and his brother Larry (accidentally) hanging out in the girls’ bathroom and she certainly wasn’t expecting him to ask her to prom. But when word gets out that Becky’s going to prom with Jeff, her friends and her parents are determined to keep them apart.

However, Becky’s not into following the rules anymore and is determined to have her dream prom night no matter what.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amy Ellis
• Release date: Jul 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310810343

Amy Ellis

Amy Ellis is a Longwood University graduate with a BA in English/Creative Writing and a minor in Children’s Literature. She is currently working on her Master's degree in Digital Publishing from Oxford Brookes University in the UK. She is the founder of The Self-Publishing Toolbox, a resource for self-published authors. Find out more about the toolbox at selfpubtoolbox.com.

Book preview

Girls Who Wear Pink

Thursday

1

What are you doing in here? I yelled, walking into the girl’s bathroom.

Two guys were sitting on the dirty tile floor, staring at each other.

This isn’t the guy’s room? one said, pulling out an inhaler and breathing in the medication deeply.

Whoops, the other said, pulling out a cigarette. Can you at least close the door? he asked me, adding, and lock it.

I raised my eyebrows.

Just do it, okay? he said, digging around in his pockets for a lighter.

I did what he said and he lit up his cigarette, inhaling and exhaling a big cloud of toxins in the air. Cute.

You’re not supposed to smoke around me, Jeff, the other said to him, putting his inhaler back into his pocket and standing up. The top half of his body was soaked.

What are you going to do about it, swirly boy? Jeff laughed.

Um, I said, trying not to get in the middle of this situation, whatever it was, but really needing to pee. Can you guys leave?

You can pee in here; we’re not going to peek, Jeff laughed, exhaling another cloud of smoke that filled the small bathroom like steam after a long shower, making it hard to breathe.

Right, I said, going into the stall and locking the door.

The guys were still sitting there, listening to me pee, acting like this was totally normal.

So what’s your name? Jeff asked me as I tried to squat awkwardly over the toilet without peeing on myself.

Becky, I said, hurrying up and flushing. I didn’t want to have a conversation through the bathroom stall door with two random guys who decided hanging out in the girls’ bathroom instead of going to class was a good idea. This is not how I wanted to meet people.

I’m Jeff, and this is my nerdy little brother Larry, he said, as I came out and started washing my hands. Larry just got his first swirly at a brand new school. I’m so proud. Jeff pretended to tear up and wipe his eyes.

Did he get it from you? I asked, drying my hands on my jeans and staring at Jeff. He looked different than any of the other guys around my school. He had shoulder length dyed black hair and wore guy-liner, tight black pants, and a band t-shirt for a band I’d never heard of.

Why would I swirly my own brother? He gets enough of them without my help, Jeff laughed, trying to dry Larry’s hair roughly with a paper towel from the dispenser. It was hopeless. Larry had gone for a little swim and there was no recovering from it. I mean, damn it Larry, it’s our first day.

Oh so you’re new then? I said.

Duh. Why do you think we’re in the girl’s bathroom? Jeff asked, looking at Larry and giving up on drying him off. We’re just going to have to get out of here. What do the early release passes look like here?

I don’t know, I said, obviously lying.

White or colored paper? Small or large pieces? This is an important question. It’s all up to you Becky, Jeff said, standing up.

Small. White computer paper, I sighed, heading toward the door.

Thanks, he said, pulling a sheet of paper out of his book bag and creating a fake escape pass.

I should probably go to class, I said.

You want to come with us? he offered, grabbing Larry’s hand and helping him up.

Um, my books are in my math class, I said.

Your name’s in them right?

Well, yeah, but I can’t just leave, I said, eyeing the door as Jeff put his cigarette out in the sink and just left the soggy butt there to spiral down and clog the drain. I guess no one would suspect he’d be the one smoking in the girl’s room.

Sure you can. What are they going to do? Give you lunch detention so you can’t sit by your friends and tell them how awesome I am?

I have perfect attendance, I said, instantly regretting it but why would I need to impress this guy?

Well, you’re here now. They’ve already taken daily attendance. It’s fine. You’ll get your gold star at the end of the year. Now let’s go, Jeff said, grabbing his book bag and heading toward the door. Last chance to hang out with the coolest people ever, he said. He glanced over at Larry and corrected himself, Well, one of us is cool, anyway.

I stood there for a minute, my purse slung over my shoulder, staring at these two guys about to head out into the hallway. With a sigh, I followed them, not sure whether I’d regret this or not.

We walked down the hall like it was no big deal, as if we did this all the time and Jeff looked over at me with a satisfied look that felt like he was trying to tell me he’d won or something.

You kids have a pass to leave? The voice was booming like God was about to strike us down with a big lightning bolt to the jugular.

Jeff turned around and smirked. The school security guard everyone called Mr. Clean because he was big, bald and muscular, was at the other end of the hallway. How convenient.

Jeff, I whispered, nudging him.

What? he said back, waving his fake early dismissal pass at the guy down the hall.

That’s Mr. Clean, I whispered.

Then Mr. Clean started charging toward us, on a mission to catch us and bring us down to the principal’s office like a bounty hunter bringing his latest fugitive into the big house.  

Larry, grab your inhaler, Jeff said.

What? Why? Larry looked confused and wet.

Because we have to run. Right. Now, Jeff said, grabbing my hand and taking off. I felt my shoulder nearly dislodge from its socket as he dragged me by the hand down the long corridor to the exit nearest the parking lot. We ran across the parking lot, our shoes pounding on the hot asphalt. Larry was close behind as we reached Jeff’s car and he unlocked the door to his brown early nineties Buick. I slid into the front seat beside Jeff, who started the car and started backing up. Larry was screaming as he got to the car, flinging the back door open and falling inside, shutting the door just in time for Jeff to throw the car into drive and screech out of the parking lot, leaving Mr. Clean standing on the sidewalk steaming and two tire marks near his assigned parking spot.

Jeff, I always get the front seat, Larry protested, nearly passing out from exhaustion or an asthma attack or something along those lines.

Suck it up, dude, Jeff said, driving toward the other side of town.

Where are we going anyway? I asked.

Well, we’re getting toilet boy a new shirt and then we’re going to have fun, Jeff said, lighting up another cigarette and cranking his window down slightly. His eyes squinted as he held the filter between his lips, his other hand holding the skinny steering wheel. You smoke? he asked, taking the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling. The car filled with smoke and he flicked a small amount of ash out the window that flew back and hit Larry in the face.

No, I said.

Of course you don’t, he said.

It’s disgusting. I crossed my arms across my chest and coughed.

Oh get off your high horse, princess. Lots of things are disgusting. Like sex, sex is gross but we all do it. And shitting. Shitting is definitely disgusting, he laughed. I was just glad I didn’t have to go number two when I walked into that girls’ bathroom that day.

Oh I’m sorry I don’t want lung cancer, I smirked.

Look. If you wanted to be a buzz kill, you should’ve just stayed in school and gone back to your math class like a square. Look, even Larry skips school.

I looked back to see Larry smiling in the backseat, happy his brother was making him look cool, I guess.

Yeah but Larry doesn’t smoke, I said, getting back to the subject.

Larry has asthma, Jeff said, throwing the cigarette out the window.

So you shouldn’t even be smoking around him, I said.

He’s fine; he hasn’t died yet, Jeff laughed, turning down a side street toward, Piney Oaks, a neighborhood my parents wouldn’t let me go to birthday parties in when I was growing up. They said only white trash lived there and the way you could tell was because all of the houses had chain link fences and their Christmas lights were always up no matter what month it was.

Do you live here? I asked.

Are you going to have a problem with it if we do? Jeff asked. I sighed and stared out the window. I should’ve just stayed in math class. I should’ve just reported them for being in the girls’ bathroom and been on my way like I would’ve normally done.

What’s wrong with this neighborhood? Larry piped up from the backseat. At least he was still alive and not having an asthma attack caused by his idiot brother.

Nothing, I said, trying to shrug it off as Jeff pulled into a very cracked concrete driveway that surprisingly didn’t have a garden of weeds growing up through it.

Really? Jeff said, putting the car into park and turning off the engine. He turned to look at me, his green eyes sharp.

My parents just don’t like me being in this part of town, I said.

Why? There’s nothing wrong with this part of town. Are you afraid or something? Jeff laughed, getting out of the car. I followed him, slamming the car door a little too hard. Jeff walked around to stare me in the face, I backed up against the car and he pressed his body against mine. Get over it, princess. We can’t all live in gated communities with fountains, community pools, and duck ponds, okay?

I nodded and he backed off, walking toward the front door.

You don’t need to listen to him, Larry said, walking up beside me. I glanced over at him, his hair still wet with toilet water I could only hope was clean but knew it probably wasn’t.

Thanks, I said, as we walked toward the front door.

I didn’t know what to expect as we walked into the house so I wasn’t exactly disappointed but I wasn’t exactly thrilled either. Their living room was a combination of thrift store furniture and junk store finds, mismatched, slightly ripped, and only mildly smelly. It was clean, no dust or dirt, but didn’t feel like clean should feel.

Home sweet home, Jeff said, as Larry disappeared down a hallway to clean up. He’s going to go shower in boiling water. Want a drink?

I nodded and followed him into a kitchen that hadn’t been updated in about thirty years. Jeff opened the door to the olive green refrigerator and grabbed a can of store brand soda, placing it on the table for me.

Thanks, I said. I sat down on a chair that had one leg that was shorter than the others and cracked the can open.

No problem, he said, sitting down beside me.

I like your house, I said, trying not to be awkward but it came out even worse.

No you don’t, he laughed, grabbing a section of newspaper from the edge of the table and flipping through it nonchalantly. Keep in mind that we just moved in so we haven’t done a thing with the place.

It didn’t look like they’d moved anytime recently. The place looked broken in and lived in. It’s nice. It wasn’t what I was expecting, I said.

Well, what were you expecting? Cat hair and ashtrays everywhere? Jeff laughed and I couldn’t tell if he was offended or not. He seemed cool and calm, just like he’d been when he realized he wasn’t in the men’s room earlier. So what do you want to do today?

We could go to the mall, I suggested. I didn’t really know what else to do. My friends and I usually went there on Friday and Saturday nights, grabbed a burger from the food court and tried on clothes until we got bored and left. There’s nothing really wrong with that but I figured Jeff would rather stick an ice pick into his eyes and give himself a homemade lobotomy than spend an afternoon watching me try on prom dresses and wait in line for salted pretzels.

How about not, he said. Anything else we could do around here?

Movies? I suggested.

Trying to get me in a dark room so you can seduce me? Geeze, lady. I’m not that easy, he said.

I rolled my eyes and he winked at me.

Well you’re helpful, he said, still rifling through the newspaper. Ah ha! There’s a performance art exhibit at the museum downtown, he said.

Oh great, I mumbled, tracing my fingers around the rim of my soda can.

What? he asked.

Just sounds boring, I said, looking up at him. His guyliner was smudged strategically around his eyes so it looked like it didn’t take forever to do but I could tell he spent far too long on it that morning. Probably in an effort to impress some other goth girl on his first day at school.

Whatever, he groaned.

Larry walked out of his room in a fresh polo shirt that was too big for him and showered hair, looking clean and slightly less ashamed.

Lookin’ good, dude, Jeff said to him. Let’s go.

Larry just shrugged as if he didn’t really have a say in it anyway and just followed Jeff as he walked back out of the house. I grabbed my purse and trailed behind them, slamming the front door behind me.