Plastic Untouchables

By Damian Cloud

For years the girls of Oreton High have formed relationships through the school’s secret underground dating service known as CYB: Choose Your Boyfriend, a service which grants them any guy they want to be their boyfriend, as long as he or she is not in a relationship. No more awkward encounters. No more waiting for him to make the first move.

Enter fifteen-year-old Sage Parker, a new student who is immediately exposed to CYB, and through temptation by her peers, purchases the boy of her dreams. However, what is expected to be romance and bliss turns out as heartache and turmoil. After a disastrous experience, she discovers the negative impact the club has on the psyche of its male victims as well as its female customers. But buying boyfriends has become the new norm and anyone who challenges CYB or tries to uncover its secrets will face dire consequences. But what Sage now knows prevents her from turning back. And every step she takes in finding the truth brings her closer to a world of pain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Damian Cloud
• Release date: Aug 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9780996062510

Damian Cloud

Damian Cloud is a native of Charlotte, North Carolina where he studied literature and creative writing at the university. When not writing a new book, he is writing for his blog. He is also a longtime wrestling fan.

Book preview

The bus ride to school was as silent as it had ever been. We sat lifeless like inmates being transported to our new prison home for crimes none of us had committed. The only things missing were our orange jumpsuits and chains to keep us from escaping.

I was sitting by the window staring at the dark, wet traffic with eyes burning from lack of sleep. On a typical morning bus ride, I would be either writing poems in my book of rhymes or listening to some tunes from my iPhone while my peers chatted amongst themselves. This time I was distracted by the thought of how I would survive my first day of high school, as well as the next four years without my best friends by my side.

It would be the first time since we met in first grade when the five of us wouldn’t be together for the entire year. Right now, they were crawling out of their beds and preparing for their first day at Seifer High, the traditional school everyone in my neighborhood was supposed to go to. However, seven months ago the superintendent made the decision to transfer us to the school that Seifer had shared an intense rivalry with for over a hundred years, Oreton High. Could be to eliminate overcrowding. Could be to promote racial diversity. But for me and the people in my community, we concluded it to be a cruel and twisted joke. We were being drafted to the school we were taught to hate, and we were being separated from our closest friends.

To make things worse, my arch nemesis decided to bypass the other few one-seated seats and sit next to me. I was hoping not to hear Rashonda Jenkins’ sassy voice throughout the trip, or the entire year for that matter. Unfortunately, it was going to be one of those days.

Listen Sage, you and me have to stick together if we’re going to get through this. From now on, you and me are best friends.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or spit in her face. Was this her way of apologizing for all of the times she spread false rumors about me, or was she just playing mind games? Whatever the reason, I held my tongue and continued concentrating on my friends while my glum face stared at the window.

A grueling forty-five minutes later, the sun peaked above the horizon and cancelled the rain. We passed the school rock painted in a mixture of red, blue, and green with a message in white that read: OH Welcomes All Freshman. And near the bottom of the rock in small letters it added, And Seifer Newcomers. It almost sounded like a hidden threat rather than a warm welcome.

The bus turned into a narrow pathway with a sign on the side that read, WELCOME TO ORETON HIGH. We had arrived. It would take us forty-five minutes to get to school and then another forty-five to get back.

Everyone remained quiet and tense as the bus drove through the smooth path leading to the parking lot. We could see the school building straight ahead. It was gigantic and ancient, constructed with several triangular arch roofs and colored in a wine shade of red. A large clock with Roman numerals crafted on its face was attached to the school’s tower, standing high and proud at the top of the building.

To the corner right was the student parking lot, filling quickly by the second with cars ranging in style from beat-up Dodges to exquisite BMW’s. Before the bus took a curve to the left, I noticed a limousine parked at the drop-off spot and I thought, Wow.

When the bus parked and the driver opened the doors, everyone lazily prepared to exit. The time had arrived. For weeks I’ve received inconclusive warnings from my big sister and my peers about fights breaking out on the first day. It was finally time to find out if they were as paranoid as I thought.

Rashonda stayed by my side clinging to my arm as we exited the bus. Remember girl, you got my back, I got yours.

I wanted to tell her to blank off, but once again I allowed my passive side to get the best of me.

It was difficult to brush away the racial tensions we were all feeling as we, a group of wary black teens, marched together up the walkway and through the front doors of a dominantly white school, reminiscent of the days when schools began racial integration. Of course, skin color was never the issue for us since Seifer and Olympia, my old junior high school, had a mixture of all races. It was all about the rivalry. We assumed the Oreton natives would be aware that some of the students transferred from Seifer were African Americans arriving from bus 515.

Instead of any faces shooting hateful glares at us, or any angry crews bunched together in preparation for a brawl, the locals appeared to be too occupied with their partners as many of them were holding hands with their girlfriends or boyfriends. Rashonda and I even saw couples fondling on benches inside the lobby, in front of lockers, and to my distaste, next to restroom entrances. It was worse than junior high. Oreton appeared to be more like a mansion of love than an institution for learning.

Regardless of the excessive displays of affection seen everywhere, I was impressed at how clean and tidy the inside of the school appeared and how cool and odorless the air was. It was as if the building was brand new. And it did resemble an actual school despite its medieval appearance on the outside.

I eventually broke away from the group and led Rashonda to the grand assembly room known as the Lion’s Den, named after their mascot. This is where we go our separate ways, I said to her.

What are we doing here? I pointed to the sign on the marker board which read: SENIOR BUDDY MEETING FOR FRESHMAN. You signed up for a senior buddy? Are you crazy?

I need someone to show me around.

Sage, did you just wake up from under a rock? The person inside waiting for you is the enemy!

Don’t start that crap with me, Rashonda. I’m not here to take part in this stupid rivalry. Enough has been taken away from me already. I just want to start a new life and hopefully make new friends.

I thought we were gonna stick together?

I never agreed to that. You can go hang out with the others you know.

I’m just trying to look out for you, girl.

I savagely yanked my arm away from her. Save it, Rashonda. Last year you told the entire school that I had sex with James Darnell, and we weren’t even dating. Because of you, he no longer wants to talk to me. Now you have the audacity to claim you’re looking out for me as if we’re actually friends? Go to hell. Friends don’t deliberately embarrass each other just for the thrill of spreading dirt gossip. So why don’t you just go back to your pathetic shoe-obsessed world and stay out of my life.

So, it’s like that? Fine. Don’t cry to me or anyone else when you get ambushed in the bathroom.

She left me a scornful glare before she stomped away in search of the others from our neighborhood. I heard her call me a foul name as I proceeded into the Lion’s Den, which actually felt gratifying knowing I had injured her spirit, even if only a little.

At any moment, I would meet the new friend who would help fill in the void for the ones I had left behind—at least I hoped. The gals and fellas in my neighborhood were okay, but I could never relate to any of them. They were more into reality TV, shopping, smoking weed, and other shallow practices and hobbies. I considered myself a Jill of all trades—minus the weed smoking—who mainly enjoyed writing poetry and listening to jazz and R&B. I can imagine them calling me every derogatory name in the book: nerd, freak, Oreo—black on the outside, white in the center. But I didn’t care. I was determined to get along without them as I had always done in the past.

At the back of the Lion’s Den gathered on the stage, dozens of seniors were holding custom-made signs which read the names of their assigned freshman buddy. Each one displayed a variety of colors and ornaments from basic drawings of sports cars to glittered flowers. There was even a blue Cookie Monster sign with two big eyes at the top and a black space in the center for the mouth that displayed the name, Anna. I really liked that one.

After failing to find my name on a pretty sign, I moved closer to the middle of the room where a group of students surrounded a long table, indulging in the assortment of food spread from end to end. I squeezed in between two girls and helped myself to a chocolate doughnut. While eating, I resumed my focus on the stage in search of my senior buddy—my new big sister, as I sometimes imagined her. Or dare I say, my new wicked stepsister.

A brief moment later, I felt someone tap my shoulder causing my nerves to explode. I turned around and noticed a tall girl with shiny gold skin; long, ebony hair reaching down to her chest; and wearing a purple sleeveless shirt.

Excuse me. Are you Sage Parker?

Yes.

Oh, it’s so great to meet you. I’m Jessica Hernandez, your senior buddy.

I stuffed the rest of my doughnut into a napkin and shook Jessica’s warm hand. Hi. It’s great to meet you too.

On behalf of the students of Oreton High, we are excited and honored to have you as part of our family. My job is to show you around, get you acquainted with our programs and schedules, and most importantly, make sure you’re having fun.

Okay. We kept grinning at each other while waiting for the other to speak. I started feeling like a fool, like I should be obligated to say more even though she was supposed to be my guide. If that’s the way she wanted to play. So, are we having fun yet?

Jessica laughed. We’ll get there, I promise. I thought we’d begin with a quick tour. Does that sound okay?

You’re the boss.

Jessica guided me to the locker hallway first to help me locate my locker. She babbled mostly about Oreton High being one of the top high schools in the nation, and that two famous actors and an NBA player once attended here. I smiled and nodded pretentiously, but she didn’t seem to notice.

From what I could tell, Jessica was a popular girl at Oreton High. Almost every student we walked by said hello to her and she even introduced me to some of them. Each greeted me warmly, which made me feel more open to this place. However, I was still missing my friends from Seifer High tremendously.

After showing me the location of some of my classes on the first level along with the gymnasium and the movie theater, Jessica took me to the cafeteria where, to my amazement, several popular restaurants surrounded the large area as if we were inside a mall food court. I couldn’t believe it. There was a McDonald’s, a Subway, a Chick-fil-A, and other small restaurants serving breakfast to the students. No more crappy school cafeteria food. Plus, the food court was a Wi-Fi hot spot—one of several spots located in the school. Fifty points for Oreton.

Jessica and I sat at an empty table after she paid for both of our meals from the McDonald’s. As we started eating, she asked me to do the one thing I dreaded the most.

So Sage, tell me about yourself.

I’m just a country girl traveling to the big city in search of the American dream. I continued being sarcastic so she would get the point that I hated being interviewed. Jessica, however, surprised me.

Very good analogy—Oreton being the big city. So what country are you from? I’m sorry, she said correcting herself as she giggled. What side of town do you live on?

The south side. Way down south.

Really? Then you were one of the students transferred from Seifer High, right?

I never went to Seifer High. But yeah, I was originally set to go there.

Jessica folded her arms on the table and leaned forward as much as she could. She stared deep into my eyes with a callous look that caused me to feel uneasy. I felt the urge to leave the table; instead, I stared back and continued chewing my food at a slow pace, hoping that the confession of where I lived wouldn’t spark an inevitable conflict.

I see now, said Jessica. The apathetic attitude. The snide remarks. Just like a classless Seifer High loser.

The sudden shock I felt coming from her words caused me to drop my Egg McMuffin onto my tray. Anxiety swam through my bloodstream causing it to become cold and thus freezing any thoughts from entering my head. I had no idea how to respond.

What’s wrong? she said. Got nothing clever to say? I remained quiet in a state of panic. "That’s right. You can’t say anything because you’re in my world now. And here, you’re my bitch."

I wanted to slap her head clean off. I wanted to bellow obscene profanity in her face and injure her pride with every insult and Oreton High stereotype I could think of. Instead, I held my tongue and stared back with a brave face, feeling my top lip quivering and the urge to cry all at once.

Seconds later, Jessica’s stern face softened, and to my amazement, she started laughing. As I stared bewilderingly at her, she reached over and grabbed one of my hands. I’m just kidding, Sage! I really gotcha, didn’t I?

I was really confused now. She continued eating her Egg McMuffin as her laughing died away.

What’s your deal? I said.

Don’t take it personal. I mean, come on. We’ve all been feeling the tension of this day when you guys from Seifer would arrive. It’s all we talked about ever since the decision was made. And just like you guys, we all wondered how the other side would react. Am I right or wrong?

Uh, you’re right.

Of course I am, she said while laughing. Look, our school doesn’t want a war. We just want to go on with our normal lives. And we want you guys to share it with us. I mean, if we’re all going to be stuck here together, then we may as well get along.

I guess it’s better than beating each other’s brains out.

She laughed at my comment, and I joined her seconds later. My heartbeat returned to its normal rate and I was starting to feel relaxed. I agreed with her; it was stupid to start a pointless war when we had no choice but to share the same building. And I actually thought the way she kidded in harassing me for being a transferee from Seifer was creative and rather funny. It made her appear genuine instead of fake, which I initially perceived her as. I was glad to admit that I was beginning to like Jessica.

You know, no one ever gave me a reason to be excited about my first day of high school, I said minutes later.

You’re going to love it here, Sage. Oreton is going to be the best experience of your life.

Jessica started telling me more about herself. She was born in California, she had four younger brothers, none of which were in high school yet, she worked at a Baskin Robbins on the weekend, she was a popular actress in the theater club, and she dated Robbie Durant, a handsome senior who was also a theater junkie. The two had been dating for almost four years. Jessica introduced me to him after breakfast when she showed me the inside of the school auditorium. Robbie was having a conversation with the theater director, Mr. Chuney, a little man with glasses so thick it looked as if his eyes were painted on the front of the lenses.

Nice to meet you Sage, said Robbie as we shook hands.

Sage—such an exotic name, said Mr. Chuney. Ever thought about becoming an actress?

I have, but then my psychologist diagnosed me with stage fright. Jessica and Robbie snickered. Mr. Chuney smiled warmly at me, but I’m sure he didn’t get the gist of my joke.

So, do you have a boyfriend? Jessica asked me as we were walking through the halls again. It was a question that I normally felt ashamed to answer, but with Jessica, I felt comfortable in providing her with the truth.

No.

Don’t worry. We’ll find you one.

After she said that, I took notice again at all of the couples I saw roaming the halls with us—holding hands, arms around wastes. I would bet my entire collection of poems that every student had a boyfriend or girlfriend. Even the ones I saw walking alone probably had a partner lurking somewhere in the building. It was as if it were a requirement for everyone to be in a relationship. Maybe that was the message Jessica was trying to convey. We didn’t talk any more about finding me a boyfriend that morning, but something in my gut told me that she would bring up the subject again in the near future.

The tour ended when she escorted me to my homeroom. I was actually sad for us having to part ways.

Come find me at lunch, she said. I’ll introduce you to more of my friends.

Okay. Thanks for the tour.

No prob. One more thing. Take down my number. You can text me if you have any questions or need someone to talk to.

I took out my iPhone and inputted her number. You know, I don’t say this to a lot of people, but you’re okay Jessica.

So are you, my friend. I’ll see you around.

Bye. And as I entered my homeroom, a familiar gratifying feeling that was only felt whenever I spoke with my friends spread throughout my entire body. Although I missed them terribly, for the first time that morning, I did not feel sad about being away from them. So help me, I was starting to like Oreton High.

But this was only the beginning.

…At First Sight

Class switches were like moving through a vast jungle as I soon found out after homeroom. Couples took their time walking abreast down the two-lane hallways. I had to squeeze between them to get to first period on time. They didn’t seem to notice me or hear me say excuse me as I brushed by. Being stuck in crowds is my worse pet peeve. Or maybe I was already jealous.

It had been a goal of mine to obtain my first boyfriend in freshman year. However, when I learned that I would be going to Oreton High, my dreams disappeared like the petals of a daisy in the fall and all that remains is a weakened stalk which eventually dies away. But not anymore. There were a lot of cute guys here, even the few who were not glued to another girl. They walked with confidence; they smelt nice, those who passed me; and they dressed nice. None of that pants on the ground crap which the guys in my neighborhood flaunted religiously.

And then I saw him.

He sat in front of me in first period English wearing a brown short-brim fedora with a strap of the same color. Of course I didn’t think much of him by just looking at the back of his head, but when he turned around to face me after the teacher asked us to pair up and get to know someone in the room whom we had never seen before, all of my senses shut down. I slowly started biting my bottom lip as I imagined the deliciousness of his smooth, pink lips which formed an innocently flirtatious smile. He was an almost exact clone of Bruno Mars. His eyes carried that laidback look that I loved so much. His tan skin glowed and didn’t carry a hint of acne or any other blemishes. When he opened his mouth and spoke to me with his soft, melodic voice, my breath was taken away.

Wanna partner up?

Uh, okay, I said, hoping he didn’t detect my nervousness.

He turned all the way around and placed his folded arms on top of my desk as if we were already friends. Okay by me.

I’m Sagianna Parker. But my friends call me Sage.

Michael Tolliver. I shook his warm, strong hand and I could feel an electric surge jolting through my body. Do you want to go first?

Huh?

"Or do you want me to interview you first."

Oh! Sure. That sounds great.

What grade are you in?

Ninth.

Me too.

Really? Maybe we have more classes together.

Where are you from?

Uh, here in North Carolina. And you? I was hoping that was enough as thoughts of the stupid rivalry began to poison my enthusiasm.

California. In a small town north of San Diego with a population of a little over two hundred. My family and I moved here last year.

So how are you liking Carolina life?

It’s cool. There’s lots more to do here and the people are really friendly.

Do you have a girlfriend? In a split second, I heard the sound of glasses breaking inside my head, causing my eyes and lips to close tightly. What was I thinking, asking him a question like that?

No, he replied, seemingly unfazed. How ‘bout you?

No.

Really? A girl as hot as you? he said as he winked. At that moment, I felt a tingling sensation travel throughout my body and I became speechless again. Guys have called me hot in the past, but this was the first time I felt bashful when I heard it.

What are your hobbies outside of school? said Michael.

Not much. I like hanging out with my friends, chillin’ with a good book. I also write poetry.

Cool. I’d like to read them sometime; if it’s all right with you.

I don’t think you’d like them. They’re not very good.

Says who? If you’re passionate about doing something, then there can’t be anything bad about it.

Michael was holding on to my heart and not letting go. I smiled at him and felt refreshed as he smiled back. We were definitely hitting it off. And although I never had the pleasure of being in an actual relationship, I could tell that Michael and I were on our way to having one. I was giddy with anticipation.

He told me he had been playing guitar for a year and that he sings in the choir at his church. Just listening to the music of his words was all I needed to be impressed. Our conversation did not last long. With two minutes left, we sat in uncomfortable silence, doing our best to avoid eye contact. I guess we were feeling shy, which I could understand. Pretty faces made me nervous as well.

When the five minutes were up, the teacher asked each pair to introduce one another. Michael turned back around to face the front. It was almost heartbreaking when he did so.

When it came to our turn, he voluntarily stood up and began speaking. I want you guys to meet my girl, Sagianna Parker. But her friends call her Sage. So that means all of you can have the pleasure of addressing her by that super cool name.

I grinned bashfully and noticed some of my peers staring invitingly at me. He called me, his girl, and in front of the class. Did this mean that we were a couple?

After Michael finished telling the class the tidbits I shared with him, I stood up and introduced him. I stated his name, where he was from, his grade level, and his love for music. If I had more information, I would have made an oratorical report out of this. At the end, the class gave us a clapping ovation as they did for the other partners. I was hoping to see Michael face me once again to congratulate me on a job well done or something, but he didn’t.

When the bell rang, Michael stood up from his seat, hoisted his backpack over his shoulder, and briskly walked out of the room without saying goodbye. He didn’t even so much as turn around to face me. He had escaped from my life holding on to a large portion of my heart which he confiscated right from under my nose.

Although I felt like an idiot, believing that Michael actually liked me, I didn’t let it bother me as I carried on through the next couple of classes: Algebra, Spanish, and Biology. There were no new friends made, but my classmates were respectful and made me feel comfortable as I introduced myself in front of them all.

Even people from my neighborhood began to accept their new school home. Sylvia Carter, a girl who lived across the street from me, was walking down the hall with one of the female locals. They appeared to be new best friends as their faces looked as if they were about to explode from laughter. Before we all arrived, I heard from the grapevine that Sylvia locked herself in her room so that her mother couldn’t make her go to school. I can see her now, coming home from school and giving her mother a big hug and crying, Thank you!

Biology was a little weird. I was the last to enter the room while everyone was already in their two-person desks all lined in three rows. Mrs. Gray welcomed me and escorted me to the empty seat at the far-right corner of the room next to a short girl with messy, natural red hair covering the right side of her face—the side next to me—and freckles all over her nose and cheeks. She was staring straight ahead at nothing in particular as I headed towards her. When I took my seat, she stared down at her desk with her arms hiding between her legs. She wore a simple brown dress with long sleeves that were decorated with white flowers, which I thought looked cute on her.

Hi. I’m Sage Parker, I whispered to her. I waited for her to respond back, but she didn’t say anything or even flinch. Are you okay? She still didn’t budge. Hello? I said a little louder.

Don’t bother. She doesn’t talk, whispered a girl sitting behind us.

I didn’t ask her why, although I was curious. My initial perception of Red-Head was that she was extremely shy and had an unusual fear of being around people. I didn’t think much about her as the teacher went over the class objective while Red-Head stared down at her paper the entire time. I figured one day she would warm up to me and maybe we could be friends.

When the bell rang, she gathered her books and rushed out the room as if she was trying to get away from me—only me. The teacher never called the attendance, so I didn’t catch her name.

I met up with the girl who advised me not to bother Red-Head. Her name was Amanda Richter—a sophomore.

She’s just the resident weirdo, she said as we walked abreast down the hallway. Clara Hagglestorm doesn’t talk to anyone. She doesn’t make eye contact or physical contact. I heard she won’t even answer when a teacher calls out her name.

Does she have some kind of social disorder?

I don’t know. Maybe. It’s too bad you got stuck sitting with her. I heard last year that she was part of a group project in History and her teammates had to remove her because she refused to participate.

How do the teachers cope with her?

I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows. Take my advice and leave her alone. Everyone else does. There just isn’t any way to reach her.

Maybe she’s lonely, I said. She probably just needs a friend.

That could be your ultimate challenge for the year, Sage: getting through to Clara Hagglestorm. If you succeed, you’ll be famous.

The two of us laughed, yet I believed what she said: This would be a great task. There was no doubt in my mind that Clara was trapped in a soundless invisible structure crying to be rescued. Perhaps it was my destiny to save her from antisocial confinement.

What was I thinking? I’ve been reading too many novels about shy people breaking out of their shells. But if we were to be desk partners for the remainder of the semester, then we should at least try to get along. I had only known her for forty-five minutes and already she had become, at a close second, the most intriguing person at Oreton High I had met so far.

***

Chick-fil-A for lunch. This is how every school should be. I ordered my chicken nugget combo with fries and a Diet Coke and sat at a small empty table in the center of the food court. The other seats were half filled, but I predicted the place would soon be jam-packed.

While I was eating my fries and reading a collection of poems by a local writer on my e-reader, I was visited by three other girls from my neighborhood. One of them was Rashonda Jenkins who declined to acknowledge my presence. The other two were Alicia Gibson and Quinette Chesler. Both were a grade ahead of me and were fairly cool to me. After we greeted each other, I put away my e-reader as a sign of courtesy while dreading a boring conversation on clothes, boys, and reality TV.

So I told him, ‘Get your hand off of me and put it back in your pants,’ said Alicia.

Dang girl, you turned down almost every guy in the world, said Quinette. You setting your sights on the locals now?

I might have to. I ain’t going to the prom alone.

True dat. But they all seem to be taken. Not one of them checked me out all morning.

Traitors! said Rashonda. We’ve only been here four hours and you’re already thinking about siding with the enemy?

I know, but some of them are kind of cute, said Quinette.

And I don’t mind having a little cream in my coffee, said Alicia.

Ugh! You guys sicken me! I couldn’t do that to our fellas. I couldn’t betray ‘em like that.

The heart wants what it wants, Rashonda, said Quinette. I ain’t passing up a hottie just because he ain’t from our side of town.

Or because he ain’t black, said Alicia.

Hey, I don’t care if he’s black, white, green, or red. Any guy from Oreton is a scrub, and I don’t date scrubs.

I had already returned to my e-reader during the middle of their discussion. As I noticed a moment of silence, I shifted my eyes upwards and saw Rashonda gazing at me from across the table. I then shifted my eyes back to my device and tried to focus on the poem I was reading, but I was distracted by her suspicious look and sensed danger coming my way.

You’re being quiet, Sage, she said. Care to join in on our conversation?

I’m fine, I said, keeping my head down.

Oh come on. Share with us. Any boys at this school you find irresistible?

I felt my rage beginning to overtake me as I lifted my head and stared into her ugly eyes. No, Rashonda. Shut the hell up.

The girls giggled, and to my disappointment, Rashonda wasn’t finished. My, my. Aren’t we moody today.

Leave me alone.

"What’s the matter? Are you shy? You don’t have to be scerred to talk to us. We’ve lived in the same neighborhood all our lives, so we’re like family. What you got to be afraid of? Do you even like boys?"

Of course I do.

Have you ever had a boyfriend?

It was the second time someone asked me that today. I never thought hearing it again would cause my breathing to cease and my heart to pound harder. But this was Rashonda Jenkins asking the question. If she told the entire bus that I never had a boyfriend, my life as I knew it would be over. I dared not tell her what she expected to hear. And just as I was about to lie to save my reputation, she struck again.

Have you ever even kissed a guy?

…

Have you ever had sex?

Jumping into a pool of acid seemed to be the perfect idea at the moment. But lo and behold, a blessing had presented itself in the image of a warm face. While looking past Rashonda’s head, I spotted Jessica Hernandez sitting several tables down with a group of friends. When she spotted me staring at her, she smiled and waved for me to join her.

Sluts carry loose lips, I said to Rashonda as I grabbed my lunch tray and my backpack and left the table. I didn’t hear any comments afterwards. I imagined Alicia and Quinette teasing Rashonda when her jaw crashed to the floor.

Jessica was sitting at a larger round table joined by seven other girls dressed in slick outfits. My instincts told me they must’ve been upperclassmen.

Everyone, I’d like you to meet my freshman buddy, Sage Parker.

Hi, I said to them. They each offered their greetings as I sat in the empty seat next to Jessica. She introduced me to each of her friends, and I was correct, they were all seniors. There was Lindsay Danielson, Clarissa Hartsock, Meredith Rayner, Sonya Houston, Karen Zuckerman, and Brenda Mann. They were all so pretty and appeared more mature than anyone else at the school. I could tell they were important people in some way or fashion, and sitting with them at their table gave me a sense of—dare I say—power.

There was one girl who stood out the most to me based on her sophisticated beauty and her graceful posture. Ariel Lee had long black hair—full of body—and she wore a white-collared blouse under a navy blue sport coat. She sat tall across from me with her hands hiding under the table. It might have been too early to tell, but she gave me the impression that she was the most popular girl at Oreton High.

It’s nice to meet you, Sage, she said. Jessica has told us a lot about you. It’s as if you are already one of our sisters.

Ariel spoke very articulate without a hint of an accent in her words. Her tone was like a relaxing song you would want repeated over and over again.

Thank you.

I’d ask if you were enjoying life at Oreton so far, but the smile on your face says it all. Right girls?

Everyone agreed, and instantly I felt my grin becoming wider, causing me to look down briefly.

It’s really nice here, I said. When I lifted my head, Ariel was smiling back at me displaying her perfect white teeth. Her smile was most inviting and I couldn’t help but to smile back, this time with confidence.

I’m glad you feel that way, said Ariel. "But always keep in mind that if you have any problems, any at all, feel free to come to me or any of us. We’ll always have time for one of our, freshman buddies. Right girls?"

The girls, including Jessica, all agreed in their own style.

That’s really sweet. Thanks guys. But if there’s going to be any kissing, leave me out of it.

I don’t know what compelled me to say that. Perhaps it was my normal sarcasm to liven the mood with humor which also drove out my true feelings for the girls. Perhaps I was just nervous. Or perhaps I was testing their sense of humor as they were testing me, in which I couldn’t help guessing. Whatever the reason, I was way out of line and I felt like running out of the building and never returning. But to my complete surprise, the girls started laughing.

You’re right, Jess, said Ariel. "She is funny!"

I’m going to love having her around, said Clarissa Hartsock.

I was seconds away from apologizing, instead I grinned along with them. They spent another two minutes laughing and commenting on my unexpected joke.

By the way, I love that outfit you’re wearing, said Ariel, complementing my white short-sleeve top under a black opened vest. You have exquisite taste.

Thank you. So do you. You all do. The girls expressed their thanks at the same time, during which Ariel continued smiling at me with her brilliant white teeth.

I think I speak for us all when I say that we’re surprised a person from Pinewood has at least some good taste.

E-excuse me? I said while holding my confused smile.

"You are from Pinewood, correct? That’s what Jessica told me."

I looked at Jessica who just simply smiled back at me. She appeared oblivious to my sudden discomfort.

Yes, I’m from Pinewood.

We never would’ve guessed it.

Um—what’s that supposed to mean?

I’m just saying that you don’t look and act like any of those scumbags from Seifer High. The last thing we need is riffraff poisoning our school spirit.

I slammed my soda can onto my tray. Contrary to what you’ve heard, the people in Pinewood and Seifer High are not scumbags.

Ariel chuckled condescendingly. It’s not hearsay, Sage. It’s the truth. And you know I’m right.

At first I was upset, but then I recalled the joke Jessica played on me this morning and I wasn’t about to be tricked