RE: Trailer Trash 54 pt 2 (Patreon)

Among the youths picked up along bus thirteen’s meandering route were several more of Gary’s friends, and as the seats filled up, occasional discourse and banter flew back and forth. Rather than retreating into herself and putting her head down, Tabitha forcibly kept her body language open—facing away from the window and towards the interior, keeping a small smile up, turning her attention towards each of them whenever a dialogue formed—and her apparent interest and engagement was rewarded with Gary and his first friend fielding a question or two her way.

I even spoke up on my own, to one of the guys I haven’t even been introduced to! Tabitha thought with giddy pride. A few heads snapped my way, sure, but no one laughed, or commented on it, or thought I was speaking out of turn.

Her nerves felt like they were pulled taut, but eventually they did arrive at Springton High’s bus loop, and when Tabitha stood with everyone else to disembark, she felt she did so among acquaintances rather than total strangers. Not friends, yet, perhaps, but the first steps had been made and after all—acquaintances weren’t as scary as strangers.

“Later, Gary!” Tabitha said with a casual wave as they went in different directions.

The words almost didn’t come out even though she’d run them through her head several times as she worked up the courage for it. Her voice wasn’t as cool as she’d meant it to sound, but at least it didn’t crack like she’d feared it would, and maybe her wave was too stiff and awkward. Would it seem too personal, when they’d just met and she probably wouldn’t even need both hands to count the sentences they’d exchanged? She wasn’t sure.

“Later!” He called back.

A moment later a friend of Gary’s smacked his arm and leaned in close to whisper something.

Tabitha only caught a glimpse of the heckler friend’s face—his name had never come up in conversation despite her straining her ears for information the entire ride to school—but it seemed more amused than anything else. He likely wasn’t immediately recounting the vicious rumors from the past year that clung to Tabitha like a stench she couldn’t shake. She was just feeling paranoid about everything.

I’m fine, everything’s fine, Tabitha told herself. I’m an average to better-than-average looking teenage girl, and almost all freshmen are single but feeling interest. Right? I um, from the boys at least, I can expect a small grace period where what I receive is just teasing or light-hearted nonsense. Stuff they can walk back on if necessary, before general consensus on me really solidifies. Then, at that point—either I’m able to assert myself over the ill-intended rumor version of me in public opinion, or I’m not able to. Just, for that to have a chance of happening, I have to put in the corresponding effort. People have to KNOW ME.

Being back out in the cold stung but Tabitha slipped off her hat anyways and arranged her hair, because it was harder for people to identify her when she was all bundled up. People here and there looked at her, but with the school situation being back from winter break for everyone rather than first day of school the tension and level of scrutiny her peers had for one another wasn’t as high. As she stepped across the commons scattered groups of kids formed into bunches here and there in front of the trifecta of administration, auditorium, and gymnasium buildings. Just as many more kids were already scurrying off in search of their classrooms; it was cold out.

“Tabitha!” A voice called out. “You’re back!”

As if she was suddenly in the spotlight, the nearby crowds seemed to part as dozens of people looked over at once. Just standing by Tabitha, a circle of girls shifted and six or seven of them were gawking at her all at once—it was a sudden sea of faces. While some of them looked familiar, her head was swimming at the sudden onslaught of attention and recognition of individual names and contexts parted like a school of panicked fish before Tabitha could latch onto even one of them.

She knew that girl for sure, but from which class? Then this other girl with the flushed face and teased out hair, was she from Marine Science, or English? Did Tabitha detect disgust and hostility? Surprise and interest? She wasn’t sure, because her mind was going blank and for a moment despite her pounding heartbeat, her blood felt like it stilled. Hopefully, the wry smile frozen on her features looked natural rather than idiotic.

“Tabs!” Alicia—the voice from just then—managed to squeeze through the throng.

Her friend was dressed in a winter parka that went down almost to her knees, and wore her hair down in corkscrew curls that framed her face beneath a beanie. She was beaming, and seemed so much more confident and put together than Tabitha remembered from the last time she was here—like she was really coming into her own style. Moreover, Alicia wasn’t alone; she had an unfamiliar girl in tow.

“Tabs, meet Jay. Jay, Tabs,” Alicia hurried to introduce them while mashing the padding of her parka against the layers of Tabitha’s coat in a quick hug. “Art club—painter, she uhh, she finger-paints, or something?”

“Janaye,” the girl said with a small smirk. “Oils and acrylics.”

With dirty blonde hair carefully styled, glasses, and a thin gold necklace with a cross that hung down over a sweater, Janaye had the appearance of a model student or an achiever. The neat, somewhat bookish appearance put Tabitha at ease, and she would guess this girl was older than them by a year or two. A sophomore, or maybe a junior.

“Hi,” Tabitha said. “Tabitha, or even Tabby is fine. I write fiction?”

“Fashion,” Alicia corrected. “Tabs is gonna bring outfits to our next art show. We already have the one mannequin, right?”

“Er, yeah, I do that too,” Tabitha laughed, following as Alicia directed them along the concrete path. “With my grandma.”

“That’s cool,” Janaye remarked.

As they threaded through the early morning stream of students, Tabitha couldn’t help but marvel at how little had changed. While it was normal in the mornings for many to congregate in the front commons before first bell, many also gravitated towards the quad in the back—the walkway between administration and the auditorium continued on past Springton High’s lunch room and the library opposite it to where things began to branch off towards the sprawl of class buildings. Just beyond that, the quad area was an open courtyard with tables and waist-high planters, the area itself ringed by the more esoteric classrooms that pulled double-duty as club rooms.

I really think I DID miss it. I withdrew right when I was starting to open up a bit more, and it had felt like I was on the cusp of… I don’t know, SOMETHING.

The art room was adjacent to the theater room, and the two were in fact connected via a big storage closet that they shared; the concrete surface just outside the theater room’s doors showed blotchy rectangular outlines in paint from where the theater kids had spray-painted props and backdrops in the past. Because they were also clubs, both doors were always open in mornings and afternoons, but while the art teacher Mr. Peterson welcomed everyone, Mrs. Hart in theater would hassle and turn away anyone wandering in who wasn’t one of her kids.

Thus, the social dynamic present was that the theater kids hung out in their exclusive, somewhat insular clique, becoming more and more theater kid weird, and the art club instead attracted social butterflies and was on the rise in popularity. Across the quad from these rooms was the soundproofed band room and the weight-lifting room. Most of the tables throughout the courtyard were lined up towards the band room side of things, and a lot of Springton’s unassuming quiet kids were regulars that sat there in their own little groups.

To contrast, weight-lifting wasn’t exactly even particularly active this year—it seemed like only one or two seniors were ever visible in there lifting before or after class. But, that door attracted foot traffic like no place other, because Coach Cooke stood outside every morning with a rolling cart selling fifty-cent glazed donuts sourced from Food Lion. That entrepreneurial spirit alone kept his athletics department flush, because the fresh donuts smelled amazing, and walking around with one in hand drew the envy of everyone around. Only half of the student body seemed to have either allowance or money from part-time jobs in town.

In addition, one of the two vending machines here at school was towards the weight-lifting side of the quad, but Tabitha had never personally used it. From what she’d overheard in the past—and it was a common subject of discussion—quarters were mostly fine, but trying to feed it dollar bills was an exercise in humiliation and futility. Violence against the Coca Cola machine had led to the sinister device being both bolted down into the concrete and secured in a metal cage, with only its buttons and dispenser open.

“Tabs? Tabs?” Alicia teased, nudging Tabitha with her shoulder.

“Oh—sorry,” Tabitha blushed. “What were you saying?”

“Asked if you brought your Gameboy?” Alicia prodded again. “I’ve been trainin’ up my team since Christmas morning.”

“Um,” Tabitha shook her head. “I didn’t, no. I didn’t think there would be time? First bell is soon, and I don’t know what I’m going to do yet about getting home from school afterwards if I join any clubs.”

“Mr. Peterson is gonna make a rule so you guys can’t play Gameboys in club,” Janaye remarked with a scoff. “He’s already yelled at Casey before.”

“He will not! Mr. Peterson is cool,” Alicia scoffed. “Just you watch. When sophomore year starts, we’ll have our own separate Springton Pokemon League club for us. We could have it on Tuesdays, or Wednesdays, or something.”

“Yeah, right,” Janaye rolled her eyes. “Anyways, I’ll catch you later? I’ve got French first and it’s on the other side. Was nice meeting you, Tabitha.”

“Likewise!” Tabitha gave the girl a small wave as she departed.

“Well, shit,” Alicia confided in a whisper. “What the hell. Got her to come over and meet you, but she barely even talked. Ugghhh.”

“It’s fine,” Tabitha assured her. “She seemed nice?”

“She’s a bit stuffy,” Alicia said. “She’s real close with all the art club people though, and she’s our bigshot painter. Really kickass oil paintings, but she only does still-lifes and landscapes. Kinda like—have you ever heard of Bob Ross?”

“Of course,” Tabitha started to nod, but then stopped herself. “Well, I’ve never seen his actual show. I know him from internet memes, though. He popped up often enough to sort of enter cultural consciousness? Happy little trees, and stuff like that.”

“Really?” Alicia asked. “Memes, that’s like going viral, right?”

“I’d say those two things are… interrelated maybe?” Tabitha gave her friend a curious look. “Now, wait a minute. How do you not know memes, but you know phrases like going viral?”

“Viral is definitely already a big thing, was on the news with that Ally Mcbeal dancing baby thing. Silly computer animation, that I guess got crazy unexpectedly popular on the web, because it ‘went viral.’ I’m still not sure I even really get it.”

“Dancing… baby?” Tabitha was completely lost. “What?”

“Yeah. Right? Oh, here—off to the side here,” Alicia said, pulling Tabitha towards a distant empty table. “Ta-da~! This is Elena’s spot, this is where she usually lurks, now. Broods. Haunts. Doing her too-cool-for-anyone goth girl thing. I dunno what we’re gonna do at lunches. You want to hang out with ‘Lena, or you want to chill with the art club peoples?”

“Um, with Elena for sure,” Tabitha decided, glancing around in search of their friend. “But—hopefully we’ll be able to pull her into art club?”

“Hopefully,” Alicia sounded skeptical as she dropped her bag onto the Elena table and gestured for Tabitha to follow suit. “Not sure what all’s going on with her. Cheerleading? Ugh. You weren’t really gonna—”

“Do you know where Clarissa sits?” Tabitha asked.

“Clarissa?” Alicia made a face. “Like from your party? No, no idea.”

“Hmm…” Tabitha mused. “Olivia and Michael?”

“They’re in with the lunch room preppies, them and their friends have a regular table there,” Alicia shrugged. “Well, they are at lunchtime. No clue where they hang ‘fore first bell. Casey and Matthew drive here, so sometimes they’re chilling with people out by the student parking lot around this time, sometimes they’re in the art room.”

“Is their relationship public, now?” Tabitha asked. “Everyone knows?”

“Yep, pretty much,” Alicia grinned. “Some girls were pissy about it, but—them’s the breaks. Elena’s over it anyways, I think, so I don’t really care.”

“Okay, cool,” Tabitha took a deep breath, trying—and failing—to relax.

“You alright?” Alicia asked. “You look a little jittery. You okay to be back?”

“I think I really need to be here,” Tabitha said. “To uh, to try, really try this time. Put myself out there, get to know people. Put rumors to rest. It’s just—it’s so stressful. I feel like throwing up already, and the day hasn’t even really started.”

“Well, they’re all not gonna stop talking smack about you,” Alicia gave her a bitter smile. “But, they should be more hush hush about it, this time. Since some of the girls got suspended, and teachers are gonna be super touchy about it if they see people treating you bad. So—that’s uh, that’s something, right?”

“Right…”

( Previous, 54 pt 1 | RE: Trailer Trash | Next, 54 pt 3 )

/// Trying not to swamp readers with new characters to remember all at once. Hopefully the old characters are somewhat memorable enough to ring a bell! Having a big roster of side/supporting characters for a school setting is maybe too ambitious, but I feel like it comes off more real and immersive. Will be switching off to work on AnimeCon tomorrow and then hopefully be able to fall into a steady back and forth between the two fics.

/// SMALL detail fix applying to previous teaser as well. Casey is a junior (11th grade) and not a sophomore (10th grade.)