To Love What Draws Your Blood-3

Angli sat in the corner of the large lunchroom of her school, smelling of Anthony Richter’s watery mashed potatoes and gravy that had covered her shirt five minutes before, following their accidental bumper chests session. She figured he was blind—who couldn’t see her? She was huge! Or so she imagined. She was just thankful he didn’t have any of the school’s chicken potpie on his tray; the pie was always way too hot, it burned your entire mouth if you even allowed the steam to enter.1

Anthony—the most popular male within the school’s two-mile radius—simply laughed and went to get more potatoes, leaving her to look like she’d just puked, using her shirt as a barf bag. If this had happened with he and Gelica Andros (she was too cool for the A and N in Angelica), he most probably would have been licking the slop off her translucent blouse, “accidentally” ripping the blouse off with his teeth and licking between her boobs. Whoops! She was sure that had happened more than just in her mind.2

Gelica and Anthony were in that “switchy” kind of group. You know, the kind that switches sex partners, venereal diseases, addictions, best friends, hair color, eye color, sexes and most probably species as often as they possibly could. They were also sharers—sharing their tongues, hands and any holes they had to help others in any sort of happiness they could. Her mother had always told her to share as she grew up but she guessed their parents had just a slightly altered technique.3

She nibbled on a strawberry from the box she’d taken from home, filled with any sort of fruit that had the word “berry” in it, as long as it wasn’t exotic. She flipped through a book of abstract art and sketches, she’d been fascinated with anything to do with paint and drawing since she could remember, which was much too far back for a teenager, especially with her semi-bad life.4

Angli glanced up at Craig who was kissing some girl’s neck at a table across the room. She would have been sitting with him but he was mad at her over the whole potato incident. It was like a dog’s master punishing her and telling her to stay in a corner—Oh wait, that’s exactly how it was. She shrunk back into the chair and stuffed another strawberry in her mouth with the greens still attached, chewing on it angrily until she realized not only was she chewing on something silky and flat but also something furry. She gagged and spat that thing out so hard it flew across the table and hit Andrea Clarks right in the ear! Chunks of gooey, chewed up and leafy strawberry goodness remaining in that ear with some furry mold as an added delight.5

As rumor had it, Andrea had an ear fetish so she shouldn’t mind too much. She probably wouldn’t have pegged Angli to be the spitter, due to her lack of directional skills. She probably thought it had been spat, chucked or appeared from Yugoslavia—all from her right side, hitting her right ear, flying through her small head and nestling safely in her left ear. Although that was highly likely, her brother was beside her so it would have hit him ... though it could have gone through his ear, out the other and into her ear. The Clarks weren’t the smartest of people and it was obvious. If dumb had a smell, you’d pass out from their stench and if dumb had a sound ... well if you’ve heard any music on MTV, you’ve already been over exposed to the sound of idiocy so we won’t expose you any further.6

Angli’s chuckling and the box of berries beside her wouldn’t have tipped her off either but there had been an inevitable witness—Marlow Hinman. He was obsessed with Angli and watched her every chance he had so no wonder he’d seen the strawberry scandal—he’d stared lovingly at the ball, engrossed in her beloved saliva. He took out his notebook right after, probably to write down which trash can the berry would be thrown away at so he could dig it out and store it in a safe place like his anus or nostrils. He was the epitome of creepy and everyone figured he was the founder of some underground stalker cult. Made sense.7

“Oh ... my ... Gawd!!” came Andrea’s expected scream as she violently clawed at her ear as she screamed and cried until she and her daring friends got as much of the alien object out of her hallow ear—her ear and her friends both were injured from her incessant slashing. Surprisingly enough, no fatalities were reported following this extravagantly dramatic and harrowing incident that would most probably traumatize the poor souls for the rest of their vain lives. Now that proves ... there must be a God. 8

It was a big scandal and the principal came to question everyone in the lunchroom to find who was responsible for the girl’s nervous breakdown. Angli had gone to the bathroom before the bell rang and came back to a get the backpack she’d left but found no berry box. Maybe someone was hungry but that was no excuse—she would be getting a serious razzing from her mother when she found no berries were left in the house. Although she wouldn’t notice unless she looked in the fruit area of the fridge, which she obviously didn’t make a routine of, otherwise the berries wouldn’t be moldy but rather eaten, digested and in the sewer already. She’d notice though and Angli knew it all too well.9

Later that day, during the principal’s interrogating, she was about to just stand up and end the whole thing until Marlow Hinman jumped up and held her box of berries over his head as he screamed, “I did it! I’m guilty! You can have me but you cannot have my berries!” over and over in a Scottish accent until he gently and lovingly set the box down, petting it as he did, on his chair and then violently fell to the ground, sobbing and screaming the same thing. People tried to pull him off the ground but he only gave in when they allowed everyone, including Angli, to leave. He’d be keeping that chewed gum off the floor that had gotten caught in his hair for a long time—he’d have fond memories of that day for the rest of his life: The day he saved Angli Kauferman from the school’s wrath. Her knight in shining armor, her wolf in sheep’s clothing.10