An Average Girl

Predictable Outcomes

It was the evening by the time we all settled down in Christine’s basement. There were bodies and blankets strewn all across the room as Pirates of the Caribbean played on the large plasma television screen. Matt and I were sharing one of the couches, with a giant bowl of popcorn that was almost empty between us. Iris had gone upstairs about five minutes ago when her mom called and she had yet to return, and Greg and Honey had disappeared at the start of the movie, claiming they were tired and wanted to sleep. We all knew what that actually meant, and they had departed at the beginning of the movie with several suggestive comments from the peanut gallery.

Having sex in high school was not something I was a stranger to, but people can be cruel to girls who lose their virginity. It’s a double standard we’re all familiar with, but I never heard anyone say anything offensive about Honey. Maybe being in a long-term relationship makes it okay. That’s what society tells us anyways. If you’re not dating the guy then you’re a slut. No way around it.

I always felt bad for the popular girls in movies and books, mostly because the heroines that we cheer on constantly call them whores and sluts. It’s like we’re telling women that having sex is a bad thing, something that will bring you shame and show you are of a lower intelligence to all who bare witness to your adultery. That’s why I tend to hate the main characters that stereotype the popular girls in school like that, it is unfair to judge someone just because they are not kind to you. There could be many reasons why someone appears to be a bitch, or cares about how they look. Everyone has a story and we should never assume that they don’t or that our own is worse.

Just because you are the heroine to your own story, it does not mean that you aren’t the villain in someone else’s.

When Christine and Lucy excused themselves to go make more popcorn, I could sense that something was wrong. Turning to Matt, our gazes locked. Nothing romantic, just the confirmation that we were both doomed and now was time for their revenge. It was all too perfect, too convenient that we were left alone in the basement.

“Come on, let’s go hide on the stairs on the other side of the room. If they’re planning something we’ll be able to see and run” I explained getting up from the couch. My tank top had ridden up a little showing a peak at my midriff. I pulled it back down till it met my cut-off jean shorts.

Matt got up as well rearranging the pillows and blankets to make it look like we were still on the couch. “Just in-case,” was all he mumbled as he did the final touches and followed me to the other side of the room.

We crouched down on the carpeted steps, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible so as not to draw their attention when they came back down. Minutes passed, and it didn’t look like anything was going to happen. I got into a more comfortable position because my knees were starting to hurt, stretching them out in front of me; my legs encased Matt, who was a step lower, between them. He looked up at me, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Now most people would have slapped him on the arm playfully and maybe rolled their eyes, but I wasn’t going to deny that Matthew was gorgeous. I winked back at him and pulled his body tighter to mine using my toned legs that surrounded him. Surprise flitted across his face until he whispered, “Don’t tempt me Sara,” into the air that encompassed us.

The flirtatious tango we started came to a halt when we saw the rest of our friends creeping down the other staircase. They were armed with water guns, a few drops falling to the floor as they made their way to the couch. When they were all positioned behind the couch, Iris gave a nod and they yelled “ATTACK!!!” in unison. Water drenched the pillows and blankets causing Matt and I to laugh at their failure.

The laughter coming from the other side of the room combined with the lack of screaming coming from the pillows must have altered them to their mistake.