Bitchy Girl Island By D.I. Jolly
High school had been kinder to Rebecca than it had been to most, which wasn’t the same as kind. She developed early so wasn’t teased for being flat-chested, and was lucky enough to not be the first girl with boobs so wasn’t gawked at too much. She was pretty enough to be one of the popular girls, but not so insecure that she had to sit with them during lunch at the infamous popular table.
The place that everyone either wanted to be sitting at or wanted to be as far away from as possible. An island of insecurity which the intentionally-unconventional called Bitchy Girl Island.
All fear the island for if you sail to close you might get caught up in a storm of passive-aggressive comments, commentary and judgement.
Rebecca had sat there a few times but quickly realised that it wasn’t for her. It gave you a reputation she didn’t like and brought you a lot of attention she definitely didn’t want. And besides, she didn’t need to bring other people down to make herself feel better. She had her own methods for that, which were her own and private and the more attention she got by sitting at Bitchy Girl Island, the higher the risk someone would find them out. So, she started eating her lunch in the library and tried to forget the lunchroom existed.
Which worked, for a time, but in even the most stable day to day routines, there are the occasional hiccups, and on the day she’d forgotten to pack lunch and needed to buy her food from the school cafeteria, was also the day that Victoria The ‘wannabe’ Queen B. decided to take her shot. She’d never liked Rebecca because she appeared as cool and calm as Victoria wanted to be. Little did she know that she was also about to ruin both girls’ reputations.
“Nice sweater.’ she spat as Rebecca walked past, sending a bolt of fear down her spine. ‘Where did you get it, 1994?”
It wasn’t that Rebecca was particularly self-conscious about what she wore, it was that one of her favourite games to play with herself involved the texture of clothing. And on that day she was wearing a medium scratchy sweater with no bra, because she liked that the itching made her aware of her nipples and that no one knew that about her. But now she was surrounded by the entire school, and they were all staring at her sweater, and the voice inside her head which hated everyone, started whispering that they’d all work it out. Soon her secret would be out, and she’d somehow be in trouble for being a weirdo. But she wasn’t going to take it lying down, so turned with a smile, clenched her resolve and made like she was going to take it off. Revealing just enough of her flat stomach to make most of the boys’ blush, and some of them groan.
“Thanks, would you like it? I’ve seen your wardrobe and honestly, I wouldn’t want to wear those clothes either.”
The room went from a gasp to groan to a long drawn out ooooh. Shots had been fried and Rebecca knew her only hope was to push rather than try going blow for blow, so let her sweater fall back down and said.
“Or wait, do you dress frumpy or are you just frumpy? Because it’s really hard to tell. Well, actually, that isn’t true, because I can see your stomach from across the room. It’s no wonder why you’ve made the lunchroom your base of operations. Never want to be too far away from the food.”
Victoria blanched and fell back on the typical defence move.
“Jesus, it was just a joke calm down, bitch.”
But Rebecca was ready.
“No, it wasn’t, jokes are funny and the only thing funny about you is that you think your make up actually covers up your acne. Because let’s be honest, there isn’t enough makeup in the world.”
For a moment it looked as if Victoria was going to start bleeding from the cheeks, which made Rebecca cock an eyebrow, snort out a breath and say “thought so.” Before turning to walk back out of the room, without food, and headed straight to the bathroom to throw up.
Victoria, on the other hand, knocked over her seat standing up and stormed off in an apparent rage trying to mask the fact that she was crying. Aiming herself straight at the headmaster’s office to make an official complaint.
By the end of the day, Rebecca was considered the biggest bitch in school.
Approach with caution.
Victoria, who tried and failed to tell herself it was fine, had to take a few days off to recover and was treated with much more sympathy when she returned. She started bringing in her meals and eating alone in the library.
And as far as the rest of the students were concerned, it didn’t matter where Rebecca ate, because wherever she was, was Bitchy Girl Island now.