Born Ugly by Beth Goobie

Author:Beth Goobie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV039230, JUV039040, JUV039140
Publisher: Fitzhenry & Whiteside
Published: 2011-07-20T04:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Seated on a parking barrier at the edge of the student parking lot, Shir was eating a tuna sandwich and watching Eunie Jahenny. It was Monday lunch hour and another warm day, which meant the school grounds were swarming with students. Here in the parking lot, there were at least fifty, divided into the usual cliques—the jocks congregated at the center of the lot, tossing a football back and forth, the preps in a boisterous huddle closest to the school, and at the lot’s opposite end, next to an overgrown hedge that skirted a low-rent apartment building, Eunie and her friends. Ensconced in the back of an old Chevy pickup, they were swigging a one-liter bottle of Coke and passing a cigarette.

Well, maybe a cigarette, thought Shir, running her gaze over them again. And make that maybe on the pop, too. Fifteen minutes ago, she had been walking past the parking lot, intending to spend the lunch hour at a nearby park, when she had spotted Eunie, and, curious, taken up her observation post. Since then, the group’s initially rowdy conversation had grown decidedly languid. So had their body posture. And Eunie was just as languid as the rest. Slouched against the back of the cab, she was nuzzled in against a tattoo-obsessed guy, exchanging sweet nothings while the pickup’s radio blasted Lady Gaga.

Whatever it was that Mr. Tattoo was whispering into her ear, however, it hadn’t changed Eunie’s perennially bored expression—she looked, mused Shir, about as excited as she had while talking to Mr. Anderson in the store. But that was probably due to the contents of the cigarette she was smoking. In contrast to the group in the pickup, every other student in sight was chattering, giggling, and roughhousing as if they hadn’t yet seen the end of junior high. To Shir’s right, someone let loose with a Pepsi-filled plastic bag, and the weapon sailed harmlessly past its intended target before erupting against the Chevy’s rear fender. Glancing down at his Pepsi-spattered jeans, the guy sprawled closest to the pickup’s open end shook out his pant legs in disgust. Other than that, no one in the Chevy even blinked.

Class, thought Shir, as she scanned the pickup’s slouched inhabitants. These guys have class. Maybe they weren’t Collier High’s top students; maybe they couldn’t be bothered with hauling themselves out of bed to run 6 AM laps around a school gym; but they knew when to take something on and when to ditch it. Yeah, thought Shir, running her gaze over the tranquil group again. It’s important to know when to ditch something, when to let things just be.

Thoughtfully, she raised her sandwich and took another bite. Seated five meters over from the pickup, she was hidden from view by an ancient Volvo; as a result, she hadn’t been noticed by Eunie, or, for that matter, anyone else. Realistically speaking, as far as every other student in the parking lot was concerned, she could have been nothing more than an odd bump growing out of the Volvo’s front end.

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