by bianca arce
“She does not look eighteen man, she’s like sixteen max.” I looked up from my ratty edition of Animal Farm and glanced over to look at the girl in question, a mysterious figure that seemingly appeared on our schools’ doorsteps last Wednesday morning. As Caleb, my best friend, (and probably the most intuitive gentlemen I know) duly noted, she didn’t really have memorable or astounding features, yet we couldn’t stop staring at her. It was Friday now.
According to Caleb, her shoulder length brown hair, brown eyes and lean build, added her up to be a four out of ten on the hotness scale.
“Fine, sixteen, so what’s that? A sophomore?” Caleb nodded, tapping his finger on his chin, making a hmm. “You know what, if she’s a sophomore, I bet David would know her, in more ways than one. You know what I mean?” he said grinning. I rolled my eyes and went back to reading, only to hear Caleb chime in again.
“It’s a sex reference. I’m suggesting he slept with her because David has been with all the sophomores.”
“Yeah I got it, you moron.” I glanced over to her, looking her up and down, taking in the features that I hadn’t noticed before. “Actually, I don’t think she’s the type, she’s reading George Orwell. People who read George Orwell don’t get laid.”
He gave me a mystified look before standing up abruptly, declaring he had to pee, and began walking in the direction of the community greenhouse, past the outdoor bathroom.
At the end of the day, Caleb and I regrouped at a deli across the street from our school, watching as the girls and guys who ignored us most of the time, shared polite “Heys” and “Hellos”. My gaze was following the figure of busty Teresa, when low and behold the girl emerged from the front door, the tiny chime of the crystals alerting our attention.
“You know,-” started Caleb, “-I talked to David, says he never slept with her. Said she was ‘Too Winona Ryder’ for him.”
“The hell does that mean?”
“Did you see Winona when she was in high school, straight up looked like dude off how plain she looked, same for this chick.”
Caleb didn’t look at me when he said that, keeping his eyes fixed on “Winona”. “Well I’m glad she didn’t, she’s too good to be mixed up with that walking chlamydia ad. Besides, she’s been here for like two days, not even David can get a girl in two days.” As I was paying for my sandwich, Caleb frantically yanked on my t-shirt as “Winona” brushed up against me.
I began fumbling with my change before basically throwing it at the cashier and squealing out a “hi”. She looked up at me, then handed the man behind the counter a five dollar bill.
“Hey Steven.” She said before leaving the deli with her food, Orwell still in hand. When I heard the crystals cling again, it hit me.
“Oh shit.”
“What?”
“She’s not new.”
“You’re kidding”
“No, I have Chemistry with her, I remember her now.”
“How did you forget?”
“I don’t know I guess I didn’t pay too much attention to her.”
“Told you she wasn’t memorable.”
“Hey-”
“I’m just sayin’, she’s not worthwhile if she’s so dull-looking.”
“Yeah well you’re wrong for once.”
“What?”
I turned to look at my once all knowing friend. “If she reads George Orwell for fun, she’s definitely worthwhile.”
I walked off, following her back into school, leaving my mustard-mouthed friend behind me in shock.
Uncommon Times 