t h r e e : mature

The guy, who looks like my boyfriend from a distance, but like a fool up close, is Aaron.

He told me he was “busy.”

His head is practically touching the table to avoid my line of vision. Sadly, that doesn’t help, as his friends move out of the way when I call his name.

I’m not playing the clingy, jealous, loud girlfriend today. First of all, I’m laying low. Second of all, Sarah could just use my weakness to her advantage.

My friends are looking to me. Cas especially is waiting for a crazy reaction, but I won’t give one.

I just go back to slurping my drink.

It’s the slut of Clarenton, just enjoying a caffeinated beverage. Nothing to see here.

Cas, Sophie, and LeAnn go back to their normal chatter, and I focus on drinking.

Once we’re all finished, we head out.

As I place my empty cup in a trash can, a hand tugs on mine.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says.

“Saxby’s? My favorite coffee place?” I ask, unimpressed with his excuse.

“If you didn’t want to hang out, you could have just said that,” I say… in as normal a tone as I could.

He sighs, “I thought I should give you some space.”

“Okay, well give me space then,” I tug away from him.

“You okay?” LeAnn asks as I finally join the group.

I feign indifference and say, “Let’s just go to the mall.”

We travel into the city because the shopping centers in our area only consist of Target, Dollar General, and McDonald’s. Driving around in circles, especially in our town, where every street looks the same, gets boring quickly.

Stuff is a little more expensive, but you’re guaranteed high quality, and we can afford it.

In fact, Soph would probably live in a penthouse in Manhattan if her mom hadn’t moved here. Even while telling glamorous stories about models, actors, and artists, Ms. Carrolton never failed to establish her humility. Despite the occasional designer handbag or expensive perfume, Sophie’s mom maintained a normal life. Sophie insists that her mom moved them into the suburbs to punish her. She prefers a luxurious lifestyle.

I’m fine with the suburbs, but the city’s more intriguing.

As we pull into Columbus Mall, we see some familiar faces: people from school and in our county. The one day that I don’t want to be recognized…

Some stereotypical friend groups are hanging out: the super rich and popular girls who shop like they don't already have enough clothes, the "edgy" girls who are just the super rich stereotype in disguise, the jocks who come here to pick up said rich girls, and then there's the normal people.

I’d like to think of myself as one of the normal people, assuming that any of us are “normal.”

The “edgy” girls wear all black and pretend to hate everything when we all know their black chokers were bought with daddy’s money. In a way, they’re worse than the flat stereotype because they pretend to be something they’re not.

“Gen, Gen,” someone calls faintly.

“Hey, bitch,” Cas barks.

I jerk my head toward her.

“What is it?” I hiss.

“We’re going into Victoria’s Secret,” she points. “Are you coming or are you going to keep staring into the abyss?”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Doesn’t she have a way with words?

“Ooh, you should get this for—” LeAnn starts.

“Let me stop you right there. If I get any lingerie, it’s going to be for myself, not him,” Cas emphasizes.

This sparks my intrigue. “Who?”

She snaps up, “No, we’re not doing this.”

“What?” I ask, taken aback.

“That blonde lacrosse player at Columbia,” Sophie says nonchalantly, while still staring at her phone.

Cas gets frustrated, “I told you that in confidence.”

She looks to LeAnn for support, but she just shrugs sympathetically.

“It can’t be that confident if clarenton secrets found out,” Sophie chuckles.

Cas rolls her eyes, “Once I figure out who runs that fucking account… if not only for my own presence on the shit, then for the sake of Gen’s reputation, I will be causing physical harm to them.”

“Let’s not promote violence—” LeAnn says lowly.

“That bitch or bitches deserves anything they get for posting private shit with ill intent,” Cas responds.

“Wait, what lacrosse player?” I rub my chin.

Cas looks everywhere in the room but to me.

She finally huffs, “I didn’t tell you anything because I know how judgmental you can be.”

Me? Judgmental?

My jaw literally drops. I’m anything but judgmental. What the hell? Sophie is the poster child for judgment… why the fuck did she get to know?

“You know how you can be,” she tilts her head, expecting me to agree.

“No, I don’t know,” I cross my arms.

“Remember the last guy I told you about?”

“The elderly man with 10 kids and a wife?!”

“He was 33, separated from the wife, and he only had 2 kids,” she says flatly. Is that any better?

“That sounds exactly like what I said…”

She rolls her eyes, “Just admit that you’re ageist.”

LeAnn and Sophie decide to venture over to the PINK side of the store, probably to make sure people didn’t think we came together. Cas is making a little commotion.

“We’re 17 and he’s 33,” I settle. Am I being unreasonable?

“I told him I was 18,” she shrugs. Dear God.

I frown, “Cas, there are plenty of guys our age,” I emphasize, “that will like you for who you are. That guy only wants one thing from someone below his age group.”

I feel so mature giving advice. Without me, where would these girls be?

“Yeah, and I wanted that one thing, too. Once I got it, the relationship ended.”

I forgot that she’s always in control, or so she thinks. I still think she’s playing with fire.

“So, the lacrosse player?” I change the subject.

She smiles, “He’s so fine, and I’m just happy that he accepts me for me, you know. He’s not some old guy fetishizing me because he can’t get anyone else.”

“So you admit the other guy was old…” I interject.

She pouts, “He’s not even the oldest I’ve talked to, but I do acknowledge that he’s a little mature.”

Right, a little mature.

She looks down, “It’s just hard to find a guy who genuinely likes girls that aren’t a size 5 with tiny waists.”

I pull her into a hug. I know this is something she’s struggled with for a while. Teenage boys aren’t really mature enough to handle a girl with meat on her bones. They go for the tall and skinny girls, and the girls don’t deserve hate for that, but it’s true that things are easier for them. No matter how many body positive movements and activists we have, I still feel like girls with great personalities and beauty will be held back because of their weight. I don’t want Cas to be stuck with any old guy online or random horny teen that will give her short-term attention. She maintains control usually, but it can easily be taken.

I whisper, “I just want you to be safe… and no more old guys until you’re 18.”

She giggles, “Lacrosse boy is only 18.”

“I haven’t heard the best things about lacrosse guys… but I’m sure he’s decent, if you say he is,” I finish.

Some girl snickers behind us. I, being a little paranoid, turn to see if we’re the object of her amusement, and to my surprise, I’m correct.

Sarah’s evil twin, Miley Campbell, is pointing at us and laughing behind a kiosk near the store’s entrance.

“Pussy,” Cas says, disgusted. I can tell she wants her to come over and say just what she’s laughing at, but I don’t want us to get thrown out.

“Just forget her. Let’s find LeAnn and Soph.”

Miley’s not biologically Sarah’s twin, but they are both evil bitches, so if the shoe fits…

When Sarah and I had our falling out, she turned to Miley for companionship. Little did we all know, Miley would turn Sarah into a hateful, scheming cunt. I tried to make up with her, but her new “friend” got her to turn against her old ones…

Cas is still holding on to the old Sarah that she thinks is still in that 5’5 and well-manicured lump of flesh.

Miley and I look a little similar, so at least we know Sarah hasn’t lost all her taste.