One

Everybody knew Ruth Goldenberg. She was one of those people who were both well known, yet still distinctly unpopular. She was vice president of the Anime Club, for Christ’s sake. How could a person like that be popular? She had long, straight, dyed black hair that fell to the middle of her back. She had red lips that she constantly kept looking as red and as pouty as she could, even if it meant taking out her lipstick and applying Red Herring on her mouth again and again during classes. Her eyes were a piercing blue. She wore contacts. I knew that because nobody could have eyes that colour in real life. She really was a mannequin. She never showed any part of her real self, visually. Those who knew her and were her friends were just as mysterious. She walked down the hall confidently, and ignored the looks that came her way.

We weren’t friends.

We didn’t hang out.

I don’t know why she picked me.

The only thing we had in common was a shared interest in weed and Shakespeare. We also had English class together, which, incidentally, is how I found out that she liked both of those things.

We were reading King Lear, and she stood up right before Lear died.

“I love the Shakespeare.” She declared. Everybody looked at her. “Ruth. THE Shakespeare?” our teacher, Hugo, asked (More on Hugo later). She nodded, always defiant. Hugo shrugged and asked if she wanted to continue reading. She did not, and sat back down, chewing on a long, teal painted fingernail.

We’d smoked together before. But we weren’t friends. Contrary to popular belief, not all stoners were friends. Sure, most of us knew each other, and we’d burn together and whatnot, but that didn’t mean that Ruth and I were automatically best friends because of our choices. She had her friends and I had mine, and that’s how it was until the January after Winter Break when we were both in grade 11.

She came up to me when I was standing at my locker. I was alone, getting books out and shoving them into my bag.

She walked up, all confident-like, pushing her black hair out of her eyes.

“Hey. You’re that Elliot guy, right?”

“Right.”

“Listen. I need some pot.”

I sighed. This happened often. You try hard to protect your reputation, and to hide it at the same time, from teachers and parents and snitches and prying eyes in general, and yet people still managed to find out.  Everybody knows. It’s really not a secret. I wouldn’t say I was a major stoner, but sometimes I worked as a dealer and I enjoyed a good toke every now and then. I even had my own Roor bong. Kids knew me.

I looked up at her, into her electric blue eyes.

“How much do you need?”

She looked nervous.

“I don’t know. About a gram? Two?”

“Give me a straight answer.” I stood up, and put my backpack on. It was heavy, because I had just put my Physics textbook in there. Ruth twirled a piece of her hair around her index finger. The nail had been chewed off and the nail polish was coming off. I sighed.

“Alright. Since you seem unable to make up your mind, I’ll give you 1.5. Tomorrow. Fifteen bucks; I’ll give you a discount. This is pretty good stuff. I really should be charging twenty.”

She looked relived. “Thank you!” then she reached into her dark green shoulder bag, rummaged around in it for a bit and pulled out a crumpled ten and a five. “Here.” She shoved them into my hand, and I put them, deliberately slowly, into a pocket, watching her.

She was just so different. Admittedly, I didn’t know much about her, but, as VP of the Anime Club, she must have something that makes her who she is. Not like everybody else. Certainly not like Baby (I kid you not, her name is actually Baby) Rabinowitz.

Baby is the Queen of Jew Ville, which is where I live. Most people are Jewish, and when people started calling it that as a joke, the name kind of stuck. Whether or not they actually follow the customary Jewish religious faith is a different matter.

Baby has short blonde hair, which is actually supposed to be dark brown and curly. She has a curvy body and a delicate nose and amazing b***s which look great when she wear her tight little tank tops. She is the secretary on Student Council.

She is also the object of many guy’s affections, including but not limited to:

-          Myself: Elliot J. Kieselstein.

-          Her boyfriend: Adrian Kupfer.

-          My friends Christopher Stern and Stitches.

-          And other assorted waifs and strays.

She is the complete opposite of Ruth. And a great deal more beautiful. But maybe that’s just me.

I’m just a shallow prick of a guy anyway. Or so I’ve been told.

The fact remains that right now, at this moment, Ruth Goldenberg was standing in front of my locker, wearing jeans and some obscure band t-shirt and looking so nervous, while twirling her fake black hair around her pale skinny fingers.

She looked at me for a while, and said that’d she’d come to my locker tomorrow morning. Then she turned around and left, her shoes leaving dirt marks on the puke green tiled school floor.

Reviews

[sofia m]

oh you did? D:
i'm so sorry!
could you point it out, please, so i could fix it?

[SpiritedTales]

Intriguing. I caught a typo, but I won't stress over it. I will read more.