RE: Trailer Trash 63 pt 5

    “No Tabitha today?” Elena addressed the gathering at their usual table in the morning air of Springton High’s back quad. Or, maybe she’s off somewhere with Bobby?

    Alicia gave her a frustrated shrug and then returned to hunching over her sketchbook, while on the other side of the table Clarissa could only offer an apologetic wince. Seated next to her but perched on the very edge of the bench, Ashlee had her arms crossed and was staring off into the distant crowd of band kids on the other side of the courtyard. It was vexing to discover that without their whimsical redheaded friend here to attempt to force cohesion, the girls here today would apparently stew in silence rather than deign to socialize with one another.

    “Okay,” Elena said, dropping her backpack onto the table. “Whatever.”

    What Elena wanted was for someone to notice and remark upon her bold new look today, but that apparently wasn’t going to happen. Because instead Alicia was tense and clamming up, Clarissa was skittish and silent, and Ashlee was her usual hackles up hostile self and made no effort to even acknowledge Elena’s arrival. It was fortunate she had adopted her very gothic mask of total indifference, because she could already sense today would be a very trying day.

    But, still! Elena fumed. Come on.

     Beneath Elena’s oversized black Johnny the Homicidal Maniac hoodie today a red and black plaid miniskirt was peeking out, and the brand new fleece stockings—black, obviously— worn beneath made the ensemble fashionable and sexy without veering so far as to look slutty. This particular outfit had been held in reserve for longer than she liked, because she had been planning to maximize the way it drew attention to her legs with a specific tall pair of Hot Topic boots. However, those particular black leather boots happened to be exorbitantly expensive, and Elena didn’t imagine she’d be relearning how to walk in those one-inch platform knee-highs until her birthday in early April.

    She still thought she looked great in this getup with her black skate-shoes however, and it was hard not to be miffed that no one was apparently going to even say anything about it, because they were too busy feuding over nothing. Which hurt, because this felt like a big deal—Elena had worn nothing but stifling black jeans, baggy black JNCOs, or even more oversized black raver pants since so drastically changing her look after Halloween. This was meant to be a subtle message that while yes, she was definitely still goth, she was also cute and feminine, and open to attention from a certain specific tall guy in third period algebra. So long as he made the first move, and was sensible and not too awkward with his overtures. Elena was honestly even willing to allow him some leeway if he was! Brett was cute.

    But, I still wouldn’t mind a little bit of support and encouragement?! Elena sighed. Lift me up a bit before I have to—

    “I, uh, I really like your skirt?” Clarissa offered with a hesitant smile. “Is that new? It’s really cool.”

    “Hm?” Elena turned so that everyone could better see what she was wearing. “Oh, this? Nah, it’s no big deal.”

    Alicia glanced up from her art pad with a pensive look but didn’t comment, and Ashlee was continuing to pretend all of them didn’t exist, so Elena shoved her rising annoyance back down and grudgingly took a seat between them. This was the major downside to wearing a skirt again—she couldn’t sit up on the tabletop itself like an aloof goth-punk badass who spared no concern for common convention. She could only do that when she was wearing pants.

    Well, at least SOMEONE said something… Elena thought with a bitter sigh.

    Introducing skirts into her lineup had been part of a whole big plan as she steadily evolved her image in preparation for Cheer, and she wasn’t going to let herself feel snubbed. There were already two more different skirts like this waiting to be revealed, along with a whole array of different stockings prepared, from avant-garde red and black stripes to more classic Tim Burton-esque black and white stripes, and then several different fishnet ones to hopefully wear when spring temperatures arrived. Elena really wanted to start wearing those, as well as fishnet fingerless gloves, but her dad was actually starting to push back on some of her fashion choices there.

    Just because HE associates fishnet with lingerie or hookers or whatever doesn’t mean the rest of the world does… and besides, I’m almost SIXTEEN, now. I’m basically already an adult, so.

    “Where is Tabitha, today?” Clarissa mumbled.

    “Probably her bus is late?” Elena guessed. Or, she’s off somewhere with Bobby. When I date—I mean, IF I start dating Brett, will I spend the before-bell time in the mornings over by the basketball court instead? “Alicia—did she wind up going to your Art Club thing?”

    “What?” Alicia all but flinched.

    “Art Club?” Elena asked. “Wasn’t that yesterday?”

    “Oh,” Alicia wore a sour expression. “Yeah.”

    “Something happened?” Elena gave Alicia a look. “What’s up?”

    “No, nothing,” Alicia shook her head. “I just. I don’t know. It was Art Club? She was there, we got her a shirt and everything. We might be doing concessions for the next musical they have here. Well, we call it an ‘art show,’ but it’s basically just our excuse to sell cookies or whatever during intermission. Snacks. Casey wants to make roman column-looking things maybe. We might try to make a mannequin?”

    “Okay,” Elena nodded. So, what’s your whole big problem this morning, then? “Sounds cool.”

    “A mannequin?” Clarissa asked.

    “Yeah,” Alicia shrugged.

    Their brief conversation ground to an awkward halt there, because Alicia wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever her deal was today, Clarissa seemed either interested or desperate but didn’t have the courage to dig for more details, and Ashlee was still making a show of ignoring them. Drumming her fingertips across the table, Elena found herself turning and scanning the entrance to the back quad for any glimpse of the missing Tabitha.

    Instead, she saw that trouble was arriving.

    Desiree and Faith were striding forward together towards them in their Springton Spirit Cheer jackets, both of them wearing looks of malicious glee. A surge of panic flashed through Elena at the realization, because while she wouldn’t be facing them alone, Alicia and Clarissa both were the types to shy away from confrontation and weren’t too likely to help speak up for her. Let alone Ashlee, I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t join in and kick me while I’m down.

    Pretending she hadn’t noticed the approaching cheerleaders, Elena stiffly pushed her backpack across the table to make more room and then rose up out of her seat to instead turn and sit up on the tabletop. She was careful to mind her skirt etiquette and kept her knees together and pointing down so as not to embarrass herself, but this was now a balancing battle between being out of her comfort zone in her new attire and feeling the psychological need to not be sitting down with the others while she was being challenged.

    Now safely on top of the table like a cool kid, Elena made a show of turning her attention to the cheer bitches.

    “Awww, where’s Tabitha today??” Desiree asked in a mocking tone, making a show of rising up on her tiptoes to peek over them as if Tabitha might be ducked down behind someone hiding. “We were hoping we’d see her!”

    “Yeah, where’s Tubby Tabby at?” Faith laughed. “Lemme guess—she’s scared?”

    “She should be,” Desiree snorted. “Yeah.”

    “Scared of… what, exactly?” Elena asked in her most unimpressed voice.

    “Oh, I dunno!” Faith giggled. “But maybe you’ll find out today?”

    “Yeah,” Desiree chimed in.

    Alicia had stiffened and slid her sketchpad off of the table and towards her lap so that the interlopers couldn’t observe whatever she might be drawing and comment on it, and Elena noticed that Clarissa had turned in her seat and leaned in a bit closer, adjusted her posture in a way that suggested she was clarifying she was supporting Elena. Of course, Elena had mixed feelings about there, because she still thought of Clarissa as more of a social opportunist than someone she could actually count on to back her up.

    “Um… okay?” Elena put on a well-practiced performative wince—not so small that it was too subtle, not obvious enough for them to call her out on it and escalate tension. “Cool?”

    “Oh believe me, you have no idea what’s coming,” Faith let out another fake giggle. “If you—”

    “Fuck off,” Ashlee blurted out.

    The outburst was loud enough to startle all of them, and to her own credit Elena froze for a moment but didn’t visibly flinch in surprise. A glance to her side showed that the previously disinterested girl was now seething at the cheerleaders with a surprising amount of intensity. Bangs swept to one side over her face almost but not quite concealed the eye that was looking in the wrong direction, and all at once Elena realized that Ashlee could channel that same sort of unhinged ferocity that her older sister Erica could.

    Actually, Erica’s VIOLENT INCIDENT snowballed with all of the rumors and gossip until everyone forgot that most of the time she was just another ordinary sophomore bitch here at school, Elena realized. Now it’s going to be like, yeah you don’t want to mess with Ashlee either, she could be just as crazy. Her lazy eye thing already made people uncomfortable, and she obviously was not very socially well-adjusted… did she realize that she can LEVERAGE that, and absolutely be a menace?

    “Well—whatever!” Desiree forced a smile.

    “Whatever,” Faith echoed. “You’ll see. Hah. Later, be-yotch.”

    “Ciao!” Desiree left off with another parting giggle.

    Then, the pair strolled on past them while making sure to lean in towards one another and whisper, both still displaying snide grins. Elena wanted to relax then, but at that point it became all the more obvious that her position up on the table was drawing way more attention from the rest of the kids around the quad than she wanted. It was too late to get off this horse however, so she stiffened her chin and pretended not to notice everyone’s stares as she adjusted her skirt.

    “What the hell were they on about…” Clarissa wondered out loud, looking first to Elena and then turning back to regard Ashlee.

    “Who even cares,” Ashlee scoffed.

    Elena joined her in examining Ashlee—she wasn’t sure how to feel about having this girl ‘with’ them, especially without Tabitha here to smooth things over. Having someone who would just go off on people who were fronting with them was helpful right here today, but she felt sure Ashlee’s bravado was conditional and would fall flat on its face the moment Brittany Taylor got involved. Let alone how things would with their little friend group here if Bobby joined them, or God forbid Brett—Ashlee’s apparent temper made her a wild card, and now Elena had no idea how the girl might react to anything going forward. The rational part of her mind told her that she should cut her losses early and try to distance herself from Ashlee before the girl made everything worse… but that somber and resolute inner part of herself that had decided to go goth in the first place had a different gut feeling entirely.

    “Thanks,” Elena found herself saying.

    “I hate those types,” Ashlee said. “They’re so full of themselves.”

    “Yeah,” Clarissa nodded.

    Is that… is that all it took? Elena blinked. I thought for sure there was no way in hell Ashlee was ever actually going to, well, warm up to us… 

* * *

    “I don’t want to calm down—I want an explanation!” The woman insisted, jabbing a fingertip on the countertop of Springton High’s administration office.

    The school dean Mrs. Clara pursed her lips. This morning’s catastrophe in the making was an indignant mother wearing a garish green women’s pantsuit and with wrists and neck both were awash with jewelry in yellows and golds. Large plastic eyeglass frames sported a zebra-stripe motif throughout that Mrs. Clara thought might have been intended to be stylish, and the woman had long sweeping bangs in the front—chunky stripes of blonde and brassy red, it was a mystery which might be her natural color, and Mrs. Clara suspected neither color—while in the back her hairstyle tapered down to short layers until it was almost a buzz cut at her neck.

    “First, you say my Desiree baby has been cut from the team? Without any Goddamn real reason!? Then, you say that—”

    “Ma’am—” Mrs. Clara tried to interject.

    “Then you say that the whole team is being disbanded, just because some spoiled little girl got her panties in some twist over a ‘misunderstanding,’ which—”

    “Ma’am—!”

    “Which, ooh, I have a lot to say about that baloney!” The woman huffed. “What, so just because she fails to measure up, that means none of the girls can compete? Oh, please.”

    “Mrs. Gallagher, we did not ever say anything about the team being—”

    “Puh-lease—”

    ““Ma’am—”

    “Ma’am? Ma’am? That’s Major Gallagher to you!” Mrs. Gallagher demanded. “I will be addressed by my husband’s rank! United States Marine Corps Major Gallagher! Am I understood?!”

    “Ma’am,” Mrs. Clara intoned in a flat voice. “I’m not sure what your daughter has been telling you, but—”

    “Oh, she’s told me plenty!” Mrs. Gallagher sneered. “I’ve already heard about all of this, this favoritism going on, and believe you me all of that is getting squared away, pronto! Do you understand me?! Pronto, it means right fucking now!”

    “Ma’am, as far as I’m aware, Coach Baylor—”

    “Coach Baylor needs to be brought up on disciplinary actions if she thinks she can threaten, bully, or intimidate MY daughter off of the team because of some, some jealous shitstain of a—”

    “Ma’am, I would APPRECIATE if you would let me finish ONE sentence—”

    “—Well I would APPRECIATE if all of my instructions are met IMMEDIATELY! PRONTO! My husband is a senior officer, do you understand?! United States Marine Corps! Does that not mean a God damned thing anymore?! Is this or is this not God’s green state of Kentucky, where our service members are given their due respect?! I want whoever’s in charge of this mess standing in front of me in the next ten seconds, or I’m, I’m going to scream!”

    “Of course!” Mrs. Clara forced a cheery smile. “I’ll go see if Lieutenant Colonel Edwards—our Principal Edwards—has time to see you. Be just a moment!”

    Mrs. Clara stepped away from the front desk and into the back hall while words of outrage continued on behind her. Nancy had ducked down the back hallway after half a minute of dealing with the woman and was surreptitiously adjusting pushpins on the wall-mounted tackboard just out of sight with a guilty smile. A silent eye roll and sigh of exasperation was shared between them, and then Mrs. Clara took her sweet time in heading on several more doors down to Principal Edward’s office.

    “Angry mother throwing a fit,” Mrs. Clara announced in a low voice, giving the partially open door a quick knock with her knuckles out of habit. “Service member spouse. About that cheer team nonsense. Just like we feared.”

    “Just like we feared,” Principal Edwards echoed with a somber nod.

    “Can I send her in?” Mrs. Clara smirked. “Please? Nancy has performance assessment prep she needs to be working on, and you know—she can’t do that if she’s cowering in the back hall.”

    “I’m not COWERING!” Nancy called in a harsh whisper from just out of sight. “This schedule was all messed up! Look at this whole column. It’s crooked. Might take… geez oh man, might take a half hour to fix.”

    “See?” Mrs. Clara crossed her arms. “This one’s one of those. Can we fob her off on you now, or do you want Nancy and I out there saluting her and saying yes ma’am, thank you ma’am, for her spouse’s outstanding contributions to this country?”

    “Army? Navy?” Principal Edwards heaved out of his seat with a sigh. “...Air Force?”

    “Oorah,” Mrs. Clara hinted with a grin.

    “Huh,” Principal Edwards paused. “Do I know her husband?”

    “I don’t know, do you?” Mrs. Clara retorted. “Gallagher, I think?”

    “USMC Major Gallagher?” Principal Edwards asked. “Stationed out of Fort Knox?”

    “Sounds like that’ll be the one—but, his wife,” Mrs. Clara shrugged. “About Desiree Gallagher, cheer girl causing a kerfuffle with that Tabitha Moore girl. Demands immediate resolution of the situation to her satisfaction.”

    “Great,” Principal Edwards said. “Fine, fine. Send her in. I know her husband, at least. Good man, I know he can be reasonable. I’m sure his wife will—”

    “Yeah—well I wouldn’t hold your breath on that!” Mrs. Clara chuckled. “I’ll bring her back. Nancy, go make yourself look busy!”

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/// Been a bit under the weather, always seem to catch something the moment fall hits and it's suddenly all stuffiness and congestion again.

Some might find characters like Mrs. Gallagher caricatures or unrealistic but they DO exist. Have run into many of them in my times as a shift manager, and the "...or I'm going to SCREAM" was actually a quote from my brother's time as a Domino's manager. Lady demanded he lower the price on whatever she was wanting to order (because she remembered the prices being different?) and told him to his face over the counter that if he didn't fix it right now, she was going to scream. Both of us have had similar experiences since we were both pizza place shift leads at various times in our lives and whenever we get back together we usually B.S. over the same old stories when we reminisce. Actually due to go visit him in another week or so.