Read the Rhush

AH THE GOOD OL' DAYS.....

1985

“What happened?” I asked my best friend, unable to take my eyes off her bleached blond hair. It looked like she had dunked her head in a bucket of chicken fat.

“Oh….” Joleene gave a nervous giggle. “I read in YM magazine that Vaseline will bring out the shine.”

“To the max!” I snorted.

“Shut up!”

“Mom says you looks like a prosti-tot!” Joleene’s brat brother Jeremy squawked from the back seat.

“Butt Brain!” She twisted over the front seat, punching him. Jeremy stuck out his tongue.

“You’re just mad ‘cause you‘re on the rag!”

“Chill out!” Mary ordered in a throaty, smokes-way-too-much voice. Mary was the kind of single mom who tacked up black velvet pictures of unicorns, owned Harley Davidson mugs, and threw afghans boasting Marlboro cigarettes over her sofa.

Right now, she was barreling us down the residential street in her black Toreno on the way to the dance. Joleene joked that the rusty junker was held together by bumper stickers. Catch phrases like Where’s the beef? and Don’t have a cow, man! plastered the entire trunk. The inside wasn’t much better, the dash sporting pink shag carpet and troll dolls. I didn’t ask.

“Oh no!” Joleene gasped, sliding down in the seat.

“What?”

“Look!” Her view just tipped the dash shag. Brian, Joleene’s crush, was walking across the parking lot.

“What?” Mary rasped, pulling into the school.

“Nothing!” Joleene sunk further, leaving a Vaseline smudge on the vinyl seat.

“Is that the boy you’re always practicing all those Debbie Gibson songs in the mirror for?” I watched Joleene’s eyes bulge at the sudden bobbing of Mary’s shoulder as she rolled down the window. “Hey! Cutie!” She croaked, a cloud of smoke puffing out with her words. “Got a girlfriend?” Joleene whimpered, melting into the floorboard.

“Let’s bail!” I grabbed her arm, whipping the door open and yanking us into freedom. Darting into the gym, the smell of Electric Youth perfume assaulted us along with the vibration of Poison’s Talk Dirty To Me.

“Think he saw me?” Joleene asked, begging me to lie.

“He totally didn’t. He was too busy freaking out!” Joleene laughed, and aside of her greasy hair, she looked like she felt better.

“Oh, gag!”

“What?” I turned. “Oh no….” My words dropped off as I spotted the preppy girls talking to Brian.

“Crap!”

“Don’t they just think they’re so cool?” I glared. “With their neon pink jelly shoes and crimped hair.”

“Why are rich girls always so pretty? It's so unfair!” Joleene paused. “And how do their bangs poof up so perfect?” She traced a finger through her own limp bangs. I palmed mine to make certain they were a firm poofball above my eyebrows.

“I-”

“And boobs! Why do they get boobs?”

“Joleene.... It’s not like you can’t buy toilet paper, too.” I snickered.

“For sure!”

“Oh no.” My wicked grin dropped. I stood frozen as Brian and the cool girls approached.

“Hi girls.” Miss Perfect Amanda sang.

“Hi.” We grumbled in unison.

“Brian tells me your mom like, has a crush on him.” Amanda eyeballed Joleene.

“What?” Joleene gasped, then went silent. What else could she say? Her mom had just screamed Cutie across the parking lot.

“I heard she’s like, a drug addict.” One of the girls said.

“A slut!”

“Like, I heard she just got out of prison.” Another added. Poor Joleene looked like she was about to cry.

“So?” I snapped.

“So what?” Amanda asked, purposely grabbing Brian’s hand in front of Joleene.

“Yeah, she just got out of prison.” I said as cool as possible. “Like five years ago she snapped. Killed some teenager, or something.“ Joleene looked stunned, but finally caught on.

“Whatever!” Barbie number two said. “If she killed somebody she’d still be in jail!”

“Yeah, except for like, technicalities and stuff.” I said, feeling Joleene nudge my ribs. “What?” I asked under my breath.

“Let’s go!” She whispered

“Hang on!“ I looked back to Amanda. “Some rich girl thought she was better than Mary, so Mary just took her out.”

“How‘d she do it?” Brian asked.

“Well-” I felt another nudge from Joleene.

“Bathroom, now!” She hissed, but I shooed at her, determined to scare off these preps once and for all.

“Hacksaw.”

“Whoa!” Brian groaned in glee. Joleene jerked my elbow, her eyes desperate.

“Please!”

“Ok.” I said, uncertain of what the big emergency was. Glaring at Amanda and her minions, we passed through. “Excuse me!”

“Oh no….” Joleene mumbled, her face flushing red. All of a sudden, Amanda’s voice rang out.

“Omigawd!” I swung around to find all the preps pointing. Following their stares, my jaw dropped. A red stained maxi pad was peeping out from under the cuff of Joleene’s jean shorts. A rumble of laughter broke out. Joleene stood mortified.

“Grody!”

“Skank!”

“Get a tampon!” Everyone was laughing. Worst of all, Brian was laughing. Joleene erupted into tears, and as she launched into a run, the pad spun out into the floor. I flitted my eyes between the bloody pad and the witchy prep cloans. Fed up with the Hell known as Middle School, I decided to give these girls what they had coming. Bending over, I peeled the pad up and walked over to Amanda.

“What are you laughing at?“ I asked, watching her eyes go wide. In front of the entire seventh grade, I flicked that bloody pad right into Amanda’s perfect hair.

Because there is a God, the sticky side got stuck, tangling the maxi pad into the hair of the most popular girl in school! The whole gym erupted in laughter, and for once, it was aimed at Amanda Wingate. She went into hysterics, batting at her head, messing up her flawless poofball bangs. Joleene wandered out of the bathroom just in time to see Brian laughing so hard at Amanda that he was crying. Amanda burst into sobs and took her turn running to the bathroom, all her teen disciples chasing behind. From that day on, no one even seemed to remember Joleene’s part in the fiasco, but Amanda‘s new nickname was Maxi Pad Face!