The Meeting

When Naomi meets, Imogene, everything she knows is turned topsy-turvy when the happy-go-lucky, friend-to-everyone wants to help Naomi with her "problem."

Heels clicked on the linoleum floor tiles.  Laughter filled the corridors �" a haughty, superior kind of laughter that made everyone near enough to hear go weak in the knees.

They were coming.

“Aww, Tubby,” Naomi giggled, her bottom lip jutting out in a mock-pout.  “Can’t breathe out of your nose?  Maybe you should go run a few miles.”  The group’s cackling laughter filled the air, scattering the students who were still mingling in the halls.  Lockers slammed shut and sneakers squeaked on the tiles as students fled for the supposed-safety of the “Great Outdoors.”  Naomi cackled louder, throwing her head back in pure euphoria as she watched the students flee.

“I would’ve killed myself already if I was that fat,” Vanessa sneered.  Her lip curled in disdain as she glared daggers at the obese teen in front of her.  Standing a good head taller than said boy, Vanessa must have appeared as the most intimidating of the group, what with her narrowed, cat-like eyes and the vicious aura radiating off her.

A terrified expression took hold of the boy’s face, and he began to back away slowly.  His plump hands tried to hide his stomach from view as his feet carried him away, one foot behind the other.  All four girls watched as the boy turned and waddled away as fast as he could.  After every few steps, he looked back at the girls, and each time he did, the girls made gun signals with their hands and pretended to shoot themselves in the head.  They giggled when he ran out of the front doors of the school.

“It never gets old,” Katrina chuckled.  Her full lips curved up into a smile as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked to her locker.  Inside was a mirror lined with pink fuzz she used every day to check her make-up and scatter the students who dared linger behind her.  All she had to do was catch their eyes in the mirror with a nasty glare and they disappeared.

Naomi examined her freshly-manicured nails as she waited for Katrina to finish admiring herself in the mirror.  Aubrey, the fourth �" and also the youngest �" member of the group, came over and stood by her, watching as Katrina puckered her lips for one last time and slammed her locker shut.

“Can we leave now?” Vanessa sighed in frustration, rolling her eyes when Katrina threw her a dazzling smile.  “I swear, you think you’re all that.”

Katrina flipped her hair as she chuckled, leading the group out into the chilly October air.  “That’s because I am.”

Naomi and the others laughed as they passed the few groups of students who were still lingering outside, waiting for their rides to come and pick them up.  They all cowered and inched away from the four girls as if they were the plague.

Which they were.

A plague on the souls of the student body of Richard-Thompson High.  A plague on the spirits of the athletes, the staff, and the nerds.  A plague on the self-esteem and confidence of the people “unworthy” of the group’s attention.

They reveled in the power they possessed.

Katrina’s car was parked closest to the school.  The group parted ways there, Aubrey sliding into the passenger seat of Katrina’s car.  She was only a Freshman, and didn’t have her license yet, so she car-pulled with Katrina to and from school every day.  Vanessa always parked closest to the parking lot exit, and Naomi always grabbed the far left corner in the back.  The tress there shielded her car from the sun, so her leather seats weren’t searing hot when the school day ended.

Usually there were no cars parked near her - everyone was so terrified of being keyed or something else Naomi would never do.  But she could sense something was off even before she saw the car.

There was an old, beat-up Chrysler New Yorker parked in the space directly beside Naomi’s Chevy Malibu.

Who the hell…? Naomi thought in surprise, raising her eyebrow as she studied the unfamiliar vehicle.  She walked around the car, trying to think of someone in the school who would have the audacity to park beside her.  As she walked around the car, her surprise and confusion melted away to anger.  She took this as a sign of insurgency, of defiance.  Katrina, Vanessa and her had ruled the school for years until Aubrey had come along, and no one had ever had the guts to defy them openly, let alone at all.  Everyone usually ran scared when they thought they heard Naomi and the girls coming.  They all knew the girls liked their space and didn’t appreciate being bothered with anyone they didn’t communicate with first.  So who the hell would park here and put themselves in my direct line of fire?  Naomi was truly stumped, and the longer she dwelled on the matter, the angrier she became.

“Uhm, hello,” called a sugar-sweet voice from the other side of the vehicle.

Naomi, startled, looked up at the owner of the voice.  A girl not much shorter than herself stood at the rear end of the car, a neon-green binder clutched to her chest.  Straw-like blonde hair cascaded down to her shoulder.  Wide, heavily-eye-linered eyes stared at Naomi as she waited for her to say something.

“Is this your car?” Naomi snapped, pointing down to the offending vehicle.  Her jaw was set and her mouth was a thin, hard line.

The unfamiliar girl stared at Naomi in confusion before responding.  “Yeah, it is.  Is there a problem?  Is my car okay?”  The girl’s gaze flickered down to her car and she circled it a few times, searching for anything amiss.  Her frantic reaction almost made Naomi chuckle.

Almost.

“Yes, there’s a problem,” Naomi snapped.  The other girl looked up at Naomi with wide eyes, panic plain on her face.  Shaking her head, Naomi fought to hide her smirk as she locked gazes with the girl.  “Your piece of s**t car �" what’s it doing here?”

The other girl’s brow furrowed further.  “I’m sorry?”

Naomi sighed in exasperation.  “What are you, retarded?”  Naomi threw her hands up in the air, rolling her eyes and speaking slowly.  “Do you know who I am?  Do you know whose car this is?”  Naomi gritted her teeth to keep herself from yelling as she pointed towards her Malibu.

The other girl’s gaze flicked between the New Yorker, Naomi, and the Malibu several times before she spoke.  “That’s… your car?  But, I don’t know who you are.”

Naomi’s eyes widened.  Everyone knows who I am, she thought.  How can she not know how I am?  Speechless, Naomi stared at the other girl in silence, watching as she moved to the driver’s side of her car and unlocked the door.

“Excuse me,” the other girl murmured.  Her soft voice just barely broke through Naomi’s shock.  Naomi shook herself and watched as the girl tossed her binder and a plaid purse into the passenger seat.  “I really have to go.  Would you mind moving away from my car, please?  I don’t want to hit you or anything.”

Naomi’s temper flared so high her hands visibly quivered as she fought to remain calm.  There was nothing worse than causing a scene in a half-empty parking lot.  “Yes, actually.  I would mind.  Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?”  Naomi struggled to keep her voice down as the other girl stared at her in shock.  “I demand respect, d****t!”  Naomi could feel her blood pressure rising and her face reddening, she was so angry.  With each word she spit, it became harder to control the volume of her voice.

The other girl stared, open-mouthed, at Naomi.  Her eyes were wide and it was plain as day that she had no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, gripping the car door so tight her fingers turned bone-white.  Her voice was soft and barely audible, but the sound of it didn’t bring Naomi satisfaction like it usually did when people spoke to her in that tone.  Instead, she felt the fury building up inside of her even quicker than before.

If I stay here, she thought, her vision red with rage, I’m going to do something I’ll regret.  But she couldn’t move.  Her feet were planted to the ground and wouldn’t budge.  The only thing that would move was her mouth, and whatever came out of it she knew wasn’t going to be pretty.

Jerking away from the car, Naomi fished her car keys out of her pocketbook.  Figuring it would just be best to leave it alone and not say anything else, she unlocked her car and opened the driver’s side door.  Before she could toss her bag in, however, the girl’s voice caught her attention.

“What you said to that kid,” the girl said indignantly.  “That wasn’t called for.”

Naomi whipped around to face the girl again, her mouth wide open in shock.  “Excuse me?”  Her voice was low, and she hoped it struck fear into the other girl’s nerves.  “Not called for?”

The other girl nodded, her lips jutting out into a pout of disapproval.  “Yeah.  He was just walking.  It’s not like he stole your boyfriend or anything.  There was absolutely no reason for you to say what you did to him.”  A sad expression came over the girl’s face as she spoke, and she looked at Naomi as if her puppy-dog eyes would phase her.

Naomi rolled her eyes and turned back to her car.  “Whatever.  I can do what I want.  Or haven’t you figured that out by now?”  She scoffed as she heard the other girl take in a breath to speak.  “Don’t.  You’re wasting my time.  Of course he deserved it.  We wouldn’t of said anything if he weren’t so damn fat and knew how to take care of himself.”

“What if he can’t help his weight!” the girl shrieked, her voice raising an octave.  She threw her hands out by her sides and stared at Naomi indignantly.  “You don’t have the power to judge other people like that!”

Naomi rolled her eyes again and looked over her shoulder at the girl, who had come around to the passenger side of her car.  “I have the power to do whatever I want in this school.  In this town.  And if it has something to do with a person’s body, of course they have the power to control it.  After all, you control your life, right?  If you can control your life, you can control your weight.”  Naomi’s eyes traveled up and down the girl’s body, taking in her outfit and forcing out a snicker.  “And your clothes.  Who dressed you, anyway?  Your grandmother?  No one wears bell bottoms anymore.  And they sure as hell don’t wear Rock band T-shirts.  Everything’s kittens, mustaches, and glitter.  Or haven’t you noticed?”  Naomi slid into her car and smirked at the girl as she started it up.  “Why don’t you try to look presentable tomorrow, okay?  Leave the ugly plaid bag at home, dye your hair, and cool it with the make-up.  Wings are over, honey.  They’ve been over.”  Naomi backed out of the parking space so fast she knocked herself back against the seat and startled the other girl back up against her car door.  Naomi watched as the girl leaned against her car with an open mouth and wide eyes.  With a smirk on her face, she exited the student parking lot with the not-so-mysterious girl and the incident shoved to the very back of her mind.

***

The door to Naomi’s brother’s room had usually been closed tight and locked since he had left.  Her mother had tried to hide the key from her, but there was no hiding place in the house Naomi didn’t know about.  She had learned a long time ago that her mother’s favorite hiding place was a false bottom in one of the drawers in the kitchen.

Smiling, Naomi rolled onto her back on her brother’s bed, her head hanging off the side and her feet resting on the cold, naked wall.  She clutched his over-sized jersey against her chest and stared up at the ceiling.  Thoughts swam around in her head; unwelcome thoughts.  Naomi pondered about the girl and what she had said �" “uncalled for.”

The only thing Naomi’s brother had left behind was a poster Naomi had made for him when she had been in the seventh grade.  It hung on the wall above his empty desk, directly opposite the bed, and Naomi couldn’t tear her eyes away.  She tried to choke down the tears that threatened to overflow as she stared at the poster, the one and only thing she had been proud enough of to give her brother.  Naomi looked around the room one last time before shoving off the bed and exiting the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Naomi?”

Naomi heard her mother’s voice call her name as she entered her own bedroom.  With her hand on the door, Naomi leaned out of her room and called down to her mother that she was home and she didn’t have any plans on leaving.  After receiving an answer, Naomi released the door and headed into her room.  All her windows were closed and her three-month-old puppy Bat rested on her pillows.

Smiling, Naomi walked over to Bat and placed her hand on the puppy’s head.  “Hey there, pretty girl,” she cooed.  The puppy yipped and wiggled against Naomi’s hand as she rubbed the puppy’s side and back.

An alarm blared beside her bed.  The words “INCOMING MESSAGE” warned Naomi that Katrina had sent her a text.  Grunting, Naomi stretched across her bed and grabbed her phone off her writing desk.  Bat watched her as she read the message.

MEET @ MOCHA’S.

Short and to the point.

Naomi rolled her eyes and sighed, staring at Bat in apology.  “Duty calls,” she muttered.  Bat whimpered as Naomi climbed off the bed, her puppy-dog eyes watching Naomi as she stuffed her phone in her back pocket and shrugged her black leather jacket back on.  “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Naomi called to Bat as she exited her bedroom.

Downstairs, her mother was lounging on the couch and watching TV.  Another one of those corny soap operas was on.  When Naomi stepped into the living room, her mother looked up in confusion.  “I thought you weren’t going to be leaving,” she observed, her eyes locking on Naomi’s leather jacket.

Sighing again, Naomi shrugged her shoulders.  “I wasn’t.  But Katrina texted me and said Vanessa and them want to meet at Mocha’s.  I have to go.”  Naomi heard her mother sigh as she turned around and grabbed her car keys off the peg board beside the front door.

“Don’t be out too late,” Naomi’s mother called to her as she pulled open the door.  “We’re going to be having dinner guests tonight.  I want you home by dinner.”

Without saying a word, Naomi nodded her head and stepped out in the setting sun, her designer heels clicking on the concrete.

***

The roads �" whether it was a small town or not �" were always busy around rush hour.  And getting stuck in traffic never put Naomi in a good mood.  Normally, it took her around five minutes to drive to the café.  Instead, it took her between ten and fifteen.  She was dreading the meeting with Vanessa �" the girl had never appreciated it when people were “late” to meetings.  And she never accepted whatever reason you gave her.

When Naomi pulled into the parking lot, she spotted a familiar New Yorker parked in one of the EMPLOYEE parking spaces.  Her lips turned down as she stared at the vehicle, trying to force down the recollection of the day’s earlier confrontation.

Maybe if I don’t think about it, I can pretend like nothing had ever happened, Naomi thought as she sashayed her way into the café.  Her purse dangled from the crook of her arm as she maneuvered in between crowded tables and booths.  Vanessa liked getting a booth all the way in the back of the café �" she said most of the time it gave her more ammunition to use against people, seeing them “goofing off” with their friends or busing tables.  But as Naomi watched the people gathered together, she didn’t see anything worth the long walk it took to reach the back of the café.

Waiters and waitresses bustled about carrying trays of food and mugs of hot drinks to impatient teenagers.  There were so many of them and they were all in such a rush that Naomi almost bumped into several of them before she spotted Vanessa, Katrina and Aubrey.  Vanessa and Katrina had their backs to Naomi, so they didn’t hear her or see her approaching.  But Aubrey’s eyes widened, along with her smile, when she spotted Naomi twisting around a group of rowdy teenage boys.  When Vanessa and Katrina noticed Aubrey’s change in expression, they turned their heads and watched as Naomi walked the remaining distance and scooted into the booth beside Aubrey.

When she first sat down, no one said anything.  Their booth was the only one in the café that was completely silent.  But it wasn’t an awkward silence; it was more of a contemplative silence, as Vanessa tried to think of how to address Naomi.

Finally, she found the words.  “There’s a new girl,” she began.  “And she was talking to you after school.”

Naomi rolled her eyes.  “Oh, that moron,” she sighed as she fiddled with her fingers.  She tried to avoid everyone’s gazes as she tried to think of what to say.  There’s no way she could tell them what they really talked about.  No one had ever spoken to her like that.  Vanessa and Katrina would take it as a sign that she was going soft; that she wasn’t able to handle taking care of annoying nobodies.

“I didn’t see you guys, but Nessa said you two were talking.”  Aubrey tried to catch my eye as she spoke, but I made sure to make it appear as if I was watching one of the many guys in the back of the café.  Aubrey placed her hand on my arm, catching me by surprise and forcing me to look at her.  “What were you two talking about?”

Naomi’s mind raced as she tried to think of a lie that wasn’t really a lie.  Aubrey, Vanessa and Katrina stared at her while she thought, impatience racing across Katrina’s and Vanessa’s faces.

Trying not to gnaw on her lip or fiddle with her thumbs, Naomi said the first thing that popped into her mind.  “I don’t even know.  She walked up and complimented my car.  And then I think she tried to invite me out for a cup of coffee or something.  I didn’t really let her finish what she was saying before I laughed in her face.”

Vanessa smiled cruelly, but Katrina kept her eyes narrowed.  “And what exactly did you laugh at her for?” Katrina asked, her tone one of suspicion.

Naomi’s mouth dropped open and she couldn’t help the short burst of a laugh that escaped her.  “Are you kidding me?  This girl was wearing bell bottoms, a band shirt, and plaid.  Plaid!  And you should have seen this chick’s makeup.  It looked like a three-year-old took a charcoal pencil and scribbled on her face.”

Vanessa put her hand over her mouth and snickered.  “It was hilarious, the way she was dressed.  And when she stood there like an idiot after Naomi drove away.”  Vanessa struggled to control her laughter, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth hidden behind her hand.

“Bell bottoms?” Aubrey repeated, her words laden with shock.  “Ew.”  The four girls exchanged glances with one another just as their waitress appeared at the side of the table.  Naomi didn’t bother to look up, but her eyes widened when she realized who the waitress was.

“Hello, my name is Imogene and I will be your server for the evening. May I take your order?”  That voice grated against Naomi’s nerves, and it took all her strength not to clench her hands into fists.  It also took everything in her not to glance over at the new girl.  But a scowl was already forming.

Aubrey snickered.  “Of course. That is your job after all.”  The haughty, mocking undertone to Aubrey’s words should have made the new girl �" Imogene �" back away.  Or at least not sound so cheery when speaking to them.

But it didn’t do anything.

“You’re right,” Imogene began.  “It is my job.  And I would appreciate it if you would let me do my job and tell me what you would like to order instead of picking at a mandatory question.”

Naomi’s eyes widened even more and her attention snapped to Imogene.  She stared in shock at the girl’s face, watching her expression closely for any sign of a reaction to Aubrey’s words.

Nothing.  Imogene still had a smile plastered on her face.  And what unnerved Naomi the most was the fact that the smile actually seemed genuine; as if the girl was pleased to be in the presence of the school’s most horrible group of people.

When no one said anything, Imogene continued to talk.  “Now, what would you girls like?”

Katrina snorted.  “How about a prettier server?”

Because Naomi was watching Imogene carefully for a reaction, she was the only one who saw the quick falter of the girl’s lips, the slight quiver of her chin.  Without much in the way of warning or reason, Naomi felt claustrophobic.  She felt her throat close and her lungs burn with the effort of trying to breathe; her lungs felt like they had an immense pressure on them, like they were on fire.  As Naomi sat there, barely hearing her friends’ order the usual Frappuccino or macchiato, she imagined she could feel the walls closing in on her, the inanimate objects intent on pressing the life out of her.

When Aubrey put her hand on Naomi’s wrist, she all but jumped out of her seat.  “My mom wants me home for dinner,” she muttered below her breath as she snatched up her purse and raced out of the café, maneuvering as fast as she could in between the tables and booths.