RE: Trailer Trash 56 pt 6 (Patreon)

Clarissa wandered past her old morning haunt like a ghost, giving the worn concrete planter along the edge of Springton High’s front commons a long look. Before the first bell she used to stand there with her close friends, that used to be their spot to meet up and talk. Now, no one stood there. Madison and Leah hung out in the rear quad over by the music building now, and their judging looks were too heavy for Clarissa to bear enduring. Bailey stood with a new mixed group of teenagers over by the other end of the front commons, and pretended not to notice Clarissa existed. She was apparently too busy laughing and chatting and having a great time with her new classmates, for Bailey it was as if she didn’t even remember that Clarissa and her had once been close.

We were all best friends since FOURTH GRADE.

To simply say that it hurt would be to fundamentally misunderstand Clarissa and the world she lived in. It wasn’t just pain and loss—without her stupid stereotypical friendships Clarissa knew she didn’t have a world, she didn’t have motions to go through, she didn’t have a routine or things to look forward to or things to think about. As superficial and ultimately shallow as her friendships had been, they had been the framework for her entire life, and the silly empty smiles and banal, overexcited good morning it’s so great to see you had meant everything to her. Clarissa had tried to cope, she’d tried to intrude upon different groups of similar girls, or start to lean into different acquaintances—to test the waters and see if she could fish out more of a friendship somewhere.

Everyone shut her out.

Awkward silences, derisive looks, and jokes at her expense were there everywhere she turned. Clarissa remembered Amber exchanging glances of amusement with the rest of her little squad, looks of can you believe this or who does this girl think she is, as if mocking Clarissa’s sheer shameless audacity in trying to talk to them. Rachel and Carrie, directly laughing in her face—snorting, reflexive bursts of humiliating laughter that had Clarissa immediately make an excuse and leave.

She’d grown used to locking her jaw in a rigid expression to keep from crying at school, but every day once she got home the tears started, and it would just be hours sobbing in her room. Sobbing out rage and anger until all of her energy was spent, with only the company of her beanie babies arranged along their special shelf. Clarissa had been desperate to make amends, even going to apologize in person to Tabitha at a Halloween party—and just when everything there seemed to be looking up, Erica Taylor bashed Tabitha’s head in with a bat.

And that was that.

Tabitha’s little group of friends there were understandably distant and gave her the same cold shoulder everyone else did, in the months after that. Why wouldn’t they? Springton High wasn’t a large school, and among the freshman class everyone knew now to avoid her. Her life… was over. With the now-familiar hollow feeling of absolute emptiness, Clarissa smoothed out the wrinkles of the oversized hoodie she hid in, and trudged over to the cafeteria, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

It had been a surprise when she discovered Ashlee sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria tables yesterday, and it was a bitter relief to see her there again today. Clarissa wasn’t sure she even liked Ashlee. The girl was a seething and unfriendly ball of spite, a scowling and embittered teenage girl who had basically already given up on ever forming companionships with others. That drew Clarissa in and also it repelled her, that hateful drowning in misery malice for everyone and everything spoke to her on a deep level, and also she found it incredibly abhorrent and off-putting. She didn’t want friends like Ashlee, and if this girl was her only option left… then she’d rather just have no friends at all.

What I WANT is for everything to go back to the way it was!

Having decided to avoid Ashlee and not speak with her again, Clarissa watched without interest or emotion as her trudging footsteps carried her over to the corner table where Ashlee was anyways, and without surprise or feeling much of anything at all she sat down next to her.

“Hey,” Clarissa said.

“Hey,” Ashlee grunted back. “It’s stupid cold out.”

“Yeah,” Clarissa agreed. “It really is.”

They sat in silence for a minute after that, and after a bit it occurred to Clarissa that they were both simply observing everyone else in the lunch room. There was an unspoken solidarity there as outsiders as they each stared out at the kids sitting at other tables, chatting and smiling and enjoying the presence of other people with conversation. Joking with one another, or expressing exasperation as they retold some series of events, or griped about homework while unzipping a bookbag to fish out worksheets.

“Tabitha’s in my sixth period class,” Clarissa finally said. “I’m at her table for art.”

“Tabitha?” Ashlee repeated.

“Yeah. Tabitha Moore.”

“Mister Peterson?” Ashlee asked. “I have him second period. It sucks.”

“Yeah. I’m not uh. Artistic, or anything.”

“Me neither. It sucks.”

Clarissa didn’t want to sit with Ashlee, and she suspected Ashlee didn’t want her sitting here either, but… here they were. It was as if the high school world and its various groups of socializing teenagers were an incomprehensible maze of barriers, and these two sitting here were the laboratory rats that just weren’t smart enough to find their way through. So, here they were. Stuck here together, with no way out.

“Hey, Ass-lee,” a girl’s voice interrupted them.

They both turned to see an intimidating tall girl with dark hair—obviously one of the seniors—stride down the row of tables towards them while clutching a large book against her modest chest. The older girl had a figure that was more slender than sexy, but her height, her earrings and necklace, and the way she layered a tight tee overtop a long-sleeved shirt made her appear smart, mature, and very put-together, for a high schooler.

Clarissa recognized the girl as Brittney Taylor immediately. She recognized her not only because Brittney was one of the pretty, popular ones at the very top of Springton High… but because like herself, Brittney was one of the few who had been served a five-day suspension over the bullying incident, just a few months ago. Everyone at Springton High knew about all of that by now, but unlike the freshman Clarissa who had her life ruined—losing her close friends despite refusing to sell them out to the school deans—both Kaylee the sophomore and Brittney as a senior seemed able to brush off the events and resume their life at school with their reputations virtually unaffected, their social circles intact.

And, okay yeah—I’m a little bitter about it, Clarissa felt herself tense up. The only one who got off worse than me was stupid fucking Chris Thompson, and he sent Tabitha to the hospital! And, Erica? Yeah, that goes without saying, she was completely mental. Compared to THAT, I barely even did anything wrong. It was just a single stupid school binder!

“Thought I wasn’t s’posed to talk to you at school,” Ashlee groused in a mocking voice. “Isn’t that what you told me?”

It was easy to see that while Clarissa felt a little on guard at being approached by Brittney, Ashlee’s body had practically gone rigid. The girl sitting beside her had her shoulders hunched up defensively, she’d subconsciously shifted over in her seat more towards Clarissa, and the backpack that had been casually hugged against herself was now in a strangling chokehold.

Is… Brittney much like Erica? Like, CONFRONTATIONAL?

“Yeah, so?” Brittney shrugged, opening up the book. “You don’t talk about me, don’t say hi—and if anyone asks, we’re not really sisters, hah. Right? But, hey! Had to borrow somebody’s yearbook just now, so that you can check on something for me. So hey, did you see… this guy? At Tabitha’s birthday party?”

Clarissa surreptitiously peeked over Ashlee’s shoulder as Brittney leaned in with the yearbook and tapped a finger at one of the rows of portraits spread across the page. The faces were all young, looking to be twelve or thirteen, and a quick glance up above the margin revealed the heading to be Springton Middle School Class of 1996.

“I don’t know,” Ashlee huffed. “Which one? And—who cares?”

“This one, retard,” Brittney jabbed the face of a boy labeled Michael Summers with a painted fingernail. “Maybe try pointing both your eyes at it, please? Hah. This guy, right here. Look.”

“Uhh,” Ashlee balked at answering. “Yeah? I guess. He was there. I remember him from when they were doing presents—yeah, he was sitting there with us.”

“Okay, great, yeah, thank you,” Brittney snapped. “I really appreciate it, thank you! Was that so fucking hard? God. Now, hold on one more second, pretty pretty please…”

Brittney wet her fingertip and then angrily flipped through the yearbook pages, and then traced down the rows until settling on a girl’s face and pointing insistently at the printed smile.

“Well? What about her?” Brittney asked with an impatient look. “Was she there? At that party.”

“No?” Ashlee scrutinized the smiling middle school portrait of one Olivia Moreno, but shook her head. “I didn’t see her. But, what do you care?”

“Hah!” Brittney clapped the yearbook closed right in her little sister’s face, with enough force that the ensuing puff of displaced air blew back Ashlee’s bangs and made the girl flinch. “None of your business, shitstain. But, hey, thanks~! Really appreciate it.”

Ashlee… didn’t recognize Olivia, because Olivia like, put on a big BRIGHT smile for her old yearbook pictures, Clarissa realized, wondering if she should speak up. When normally, in person… Olivia always looks real pissed off. She looks totally different, in real life, plus yeah, she’s a couple years older now. I think her and Michael are sophomores, already…

“What was that all about? Ashlee scoffed, and the girl turned to watch her older sister stalk off on her long legs. “Psycho…”

“Tabitha… invited Michael to her birthday party,” Clarissa began to try to explain in a hesitant voice. “Um. I think because, Michael was the one to tackle Erica off of Tabitha, back then? At the Halloween thing. But, Michael and Olivia were dating, so—so, I guess, Brittney’s probably going to try to stir up some drama or make Olivia jealous or pissed off, or—you know. Set her against Tabitha. Since Olivia still likes Michael, even though they ‘broke up.’”

It turned out to be more than she had intended volunteering all at once, and for an awkward moment Clarissa wondered if she should have just kept her mouth shut.

“Ugghh, it’s all so stupid,” Ashlee scowled, shaking her head. “But, serves Tabitha right, I guess? Wahhh, Michael likes Tabitha, but Olivia likes Michael, oh boo hoo hoo. Stupid ‘popular people’ made-up love triangle crap. They’re all super phony, and it’s all B.S. anyways. Total garbage. None of them could ever love anyone but themselves. They’re all so full of it!”

“Yeah, I guess..” Clarissa eyed Ashlee, but decided not to say anything else.

I mean, I guess Ashlee wasn’t there with us for the movie part—everyone there would remember that Olivia and Michael were making out for like, the whole thing. Even I caught them kissing TWICE, and I was way over sitting on the other side of everyone!

Being in the unique position to recognize all of the important details as this developing situation unfolded was thrilling, but at the same time being cut off from her old group of friends took the wind out of Clarissa’s sails. She was all of the sudden privy to incredibly juicy gossip about what was going on, but didn’t have anyone she trusted enough to easily share that with. It was an altogether tragic feeling, because she was on the edge of her seat with excitement about this—it finally felt like something was poking through the dreary lethargy of her hopeless high school existence.

Do I… do I warn Ashlee that she basically gave Brittney bogus information, all ‘cause she didn’t recognize Olivia in the yearbook? Whatever they’re trying to spread around isn’t going to work, because OLIVIA WAS ACTUALLY THERE TOO, duh, Clarissa felt inexplicably torn. Ashlee doesn’t even like her sister in the first place! Or, I guess… do I go find Tabitha, and warn her that Brittney is fixing to stir up trouble for her? I mean, why else would they need to know just who specifically was attending her party, right?

/// This one should finish up chapter 56! Going to work on refining all of it together a bit more before posting it up as a complete chapter. Brittney is hard to write here without her seeming one-dimensionally antagonistic, but I do think I want to start us out here on this kind of note.

At school Brittney is cheery and polite but also foul-mouthed (especially towards her sister), and she'll be very comfortable talking shit about both Erica and Ashlee... but no one else is allowed to talk shit about Erica and Ashlee, because they're her sisters. That kind of relationship.

Writing Clarissa is also a challenge, because I want to have her feel distinct from Ashlee or to have a different sort of subtext. Maybe like Clarissa is not as complex and intelligent as Ashlee, but she has much stronger self-awareness? Or, I guess you could say Clarissa just stops being morally complex while she is in social survival mode. Ashlee's smart but stubborn, has a tendency to decide on something and then keep going with it, even if it's borderline delusional. It's a tough sort of dynamic to get down right, and I want these 'negative' sections with Shannon/Clarissa/Ashlee and some 'positive' sections with Tabitha/Bobby/Hannah Banana to start fitting together like zipper teeth as we head towards book two's climax.