Bimborg 2: Invasion of the Bawdy Snatch-Revelers (part 4)
THE NEXT MORNING
SWEET ONION HIGH SCHOOL
A chubby brunette girl said, “Hey, Regina, your outfit looks nice on you.”
“Of course it does,” Regina Wisley replied. Regina gave the lesser mortal barely a glance.
Queen Regina continued to stride through a hallway of what she considered to be her own royal castle, accompanied by what she considered to be her ladies-in waiting.
Why was Regina the girl at the top of her high school’s social order? Because she was a Senior, plus being captain of the cheerleading squad. But wait, there was more.
Regina was half-gorgeous. True, she’d inherited her father’s blah hair color and his enormous nose. But L’Oreal took care of the hair color, and Daddy had promised Regina a nose job before she went off to college. On Regina’s mother’s side, Steffi Jo Longhurst had once been the most beautiful girl in Vidal County, and Regina had inherited all of her mother’s best parts.
The final reason that Regina was at the apex of high-school popularity was that the Wisleys were the richest family in Vidal County.
Back in 1959, when color televisions were new and sexy, Regina’s grandfather Robert Wisley had patented an improvement on color-tuning the TV. It wasn’t enough to make viewers go “Wow,” but it got the man a bank loan to start a television factory. Wisley Electronics never threatened RCA or Zenith or Magnavox; but at one time, the factory employed five hundred people in Sweet Onion, and Robert Wisley was a local hero. Nowadays, all the actual TV parts were made in China, and only fifty locals were employed in final assembly. Still, Roger Wisley (Robert’s son, Regina’s father, and Wisley Electronics’ current CEO) managed to pocket a nice chunk of change.
Now in Sweet Onion High School, Regina and her two minions passed a group of three druggie sophomores. But the boys’ interest wasn’t in Regina, but in Betsy Campbell (to Regina’s right).
One of the druggie loser boys gave a wolf whistle.
Another of the boys said (in what he deludedly thought was a sexy voice), ”Hey, Betsy, you’re looking gooood today.”
Everyone at school agreed, “Busty Betsy” had a truly bodacious set of ta-tas. And they were entirely natural—Betsy had borne blossoming breasts beginning in sixth grade.
So was Regina ever worried about Betsy replacing her as queen bee? Not even slightly. Because while boys lusted after Betsy’s upper shape, and while Betsy had a pretty face overall, nobody could ignore the strawberry birthmark on Betsy’s cheek. It wasn’t big—the bottom of a can of diet soda would cover all of it—but it was big enough to ensure that Betsy could never be the school’s number-one beauty. So whenever Regina wanted to wound her minion in an argument, all she had to do was call her “Birthmark Betsy.”
“Good morning, Prudy Lu,” Johnny Sutherland now said to Prudy Lu Moffatt, who was walking on Regina’s left.
It was no surprise that this boy was greeting Prudy Lu; Regina knew that Johnny was Prudy Lu’s next-door neighbor.
Regina turned her head sharply to the left, just in time to see Prudy Lu start to take a breath. “Don’t say anything to him,” Regina commanded. “We’re running late.”
Prudy Lu obeyed. Instead of replying with words to Johnny, she made a weak wave and continued walking. Regina glanced back at Johnny; he looked like he’d been slapped.
Regina had expected Prudy Lu’s obedience. Prudy’s dad worked for Regina’s Daddy, and Prudy had an ordinary chest—so Prudy was definitely of lower status than Regina. Yet Prudy Lu rated high in the overall SOHS pecking order, because her older sister had been a beauty-contest winner, and Prudy Lu had a face as striking as Holli Sue’s.
Prudy Lu’s gorgeous face might, maybe, possibly have made Regina worry about losing her top spot, except for one thing: Prudy Lu was a natural follower.
Now Regina and her minions continued down the hall, walking three abreast, and kids just naturally stepped out of the cool girls’ way. Until one kid didn’t.
A girl of eighteen stood squarely in Regina’s path. The path-blocker had curled dark-auburn hair, a black T-shirt tucked into her comfortable blue jeans, and white sneakers. Her makeup was professionally done. Her eyes were shifting between Regina, Prudy Lu, and Betsy, while her face showed a thoughtful expression.
Regina’s brain was tickling her: The girl blocking the cool girls’ path didn’t look familiar, and yet she did.
Whoever she was, she was gorgeous, despite her poor choice of clothes.
And this meant that she was Regina’s competition.
And Regina’s rule with competition always was: Leash it or destroy it.
Regina stopped three feet away from Roadblock Girl, and put her hands on her hips. “Who are you, and why are you blocking our way?”
Betsy said, “Um, Regina? That’s Nightshade, Ah’m pretty sure.”
“No way,” Regina said. “Nightshade looks like a Goth-y freak.“
Prudy Lu said, “Wow, Nightshade, who did your hair? It looks great.“
The auburn-haired girl turned her full body to face Prudy Lu, as she smiled happily. “You’re so sweet, Prudy Lu. But please, Ah’m back to being called ‘Rose’ again, you know?”
Rose/Nightshade continued to face Prudy Lu directly, and to look only at Prudy Lu, as if Regina and Betsy weren’t even there. Then Rose said, “My hair? Ah dyed it myself last night in the shower, after Ah, like, learned a few tricks about hair coloring. And Ah know how to roll my hair, Ah just haven’t done it since seventh grade, you know?”
Only then did Rose look at Regina, to answer Regina’s question of a minute earlier. Worse than delaying her answer, Rose answered Regina only by turning her head—below the neck, Rose’s body still faced Prudy Lu straight on. It was as if Prudy Lu were the big shot, and Regina were the minion! Rose said to Regina, “As for why Ah was standing here, it was because Ah was deciding something about y’all.”
“And what did you ‘decide’ about us?” Regina demanded.
Rose’s “smile” at Regina now was pure Go away, loser, you’re not in my league. Regina had given a smile like that thousands of times; why the fuck was she getting it? Meanwhile, Rose was saying, “Ah’m sorry, but you don’t need this information.”
Regina was about to blow a gasket, but Prudy Lu managed to speak first: “So Rose, why aren’t you wearing black anymore, or calling yourself ‘Nightshade’? The red of your lipstick goes well with your hair and skin color, by the way.”
Betsy muttered, “Jeez, Prudy Lu! She changed her name because ‘Nightshade’ is an evil name to have.”
Rose now was giving Prudy Lu another sunny smile. “Because yesterday Ah met a new dentist in town, her name is Doctor Saint James, and she is, ohmigod, easy to talk to, and she helped me see stuff about life, and how Ah was, like, acting like a kid, you know?”
“Well yeah, you did look kind of strange,” Prudy Lu said reluctantly.
“And Ah was proud of it. But one of the things that Heather got me to see yesterday was that Charlie-Bob Owens is, like, the only real man in this school. But he won’t date me if Ah look like Bride of Dracula, you know?”
“You’re kidding. Charlie-Bob Owens?“ Regina sneered. “He’s a nerd. And worse, Senior girl, he’s a Junior.”
Rose’s look at Regina was pure condescension. “He’s also someone who got shot trying to save two women from masked gunmen. Heather should know—she was one of the two women he saved! And what do your boyfriends do? They throw balls around instead of doing homework. Really?“
Then Rose said, “Speaking of Charlie-Bob, you’re keeping me from my plan to talk to him before First Bell. Prudy Lu, Ah’ll talk to you later, okay?”
And then, without waiting for Regina to dismiss her, Rose simply walked away. (While squeezing Prudy Lu’s arm as Rose passed her.)
Betsy remarked, “She’s truly hot for Charlie-Bob Owens? I though Rose was lesbo.”
But Regina, meanwhile, had spun around to point a finger at Prudy Lu’s face. “I don’t want you talking to that witch again! Got me? Not a word to her.”
“But Regina, she’s only—”
“Not a word. At all. She talks, you get deaf. Hmm?”
Prudy Lu’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, Regina, I won’t talk to Rose anymore.”
Charlie-Bob Owens was locking his locker when he heard a purr to his right. A phone-sex operator’s voice said, “Hiii, Charlie-Bob. How’s it hanging?”
He blinked with surprise when he saw who was talking to him. ”Nightshade? Uh, what’s up?”
“Please, call me ‘Rose’ again. Anyway, Ah talked to Heather Saint James yesterday. It started with her talking me into a cleaning appointment, today after school—”
“Oh, so Macon finally sent Heather her dental license?”
Rose laid a hand on his arm. “Please, Charlie-Bob, Ah haven’t got much time. Heather told me what you did in Atlanta, and Ah was like, ‘Ohmigod!’” Rose gave Charlie-Bob a smoldering look as she asked, “So do you, like, have a girlfriend?”
He choked. “Hold on, aren’t you a le—Aren’t you always complaining in class about the Patriarchy? What’s going on?”
“‘What’s going on’ is that now Ah’m not a witch, now Ah like boys, now Ah really like you, and now Ah want to know if you have, you know, a girlfriend.” Rose stroked his arm, then said, “Meaning, a girl who makes you glad that you spend time with her.”
Charlie-Bob was blushing. “Um, no, Rose. Right now, Ah don’t have a girlfriend.”
Rose still was stroking his arm. “Ah am, like, really impressed by what you did. So whenever you want a date for Friday night, or Saturday night, or whenever you want only a blowjob or a fuck, you call me, y’hear?”
Charlie-Bob stared at Rose, open-mouthed.