Chapter 2: Valentine’s Day Subject

Annabella stands behind and over a plastic red and pink hearted table that sits two senior girls. Like a queen, she rules the fundraising committee. Today, a golden crown adorns her midnight-black hair. A short eggplant purple gown barely covers her private parts, while she holds a golden foiled scepter like a sword to keep her underlings in line. A set of golden faerie wings completes the regal faerie queen outfit.

“What are you wearing?”

Her scowl is frightening, especially when directed at me.

Have my clothes magically changed on the way here? No, still white sneakers, blue jeans, and an oversized white shirt sporting an oversized ruby red heart. I may not appear like much, but I am festive.

Her peacock blue lips compress in anger.

“Why would anyone purchase a singing-gram from a frumpy-looking girl like you?”

Her burnt umber leer bores into me.

“These two at least wore tight t-shirts.”

She waves the scepter like a wand. The bored girls keep scrolling with their fake pale pink nails.

“Your shirt’s so big, you look like a ghost.”

“Sorry.”

Mom even suggested that I wear my bright red summer dress, but what teenager listens to clothes advice from their mother?

“Is it Halloween?”

“Are you supposed to be a ghost?”

“Take off that fucking shirt.”

What? I can’t. Only my training bra is under.

The girl in tight red yoga pants and a tight white tube top with cleavage spilling out stands up.

“Annabella, I need to go deliver these kisses.”

“Fine, remember, 30 seconds per, or you won’t finish on time. And no more tonguing with other girls. Not everyone is a lesbian. We received complaints.”

“Whatever.”

The senior breathes under her breath before marching away, carrying a cute little red bag with a bright pink kiss on it. Her large breasts threaten to escape her top with each stride.

“Annabella, I have to get to class.”

The other senior, wearing the same as me, just a tighter shirt with a red teddy bear on the front, also stands to leave.

“Where is your replacement?”

Annabella glares at her.

The girl just saunters away, giving Annabella an over-the-shoulder middle finger.

Annabella scares me way too much to ever disrespect her like that. I only signed up for this shift because she cornered a group of us yesterday and forced me.

“Why the fuck do you still have that fucking stupid bed sheet on?”

She enunciates each word slowly and separately.

“I only have my bra on under.”

While my body burns with embarrassment, it does not burn me to ash and thus does not save me.

“Like I care.”

Her scowl deepens while walking around the table.

Is she going to hit me?

She roughly grabs my blonde hair and pulls it into a high ponytail that she ties off with a cherry red ribbon. It hurts, but I don’t dare say anything. I am just thankful she didn’t hit me. Yet.