RE: Trailer Trash, 67 pt 1 (Patreon)

    “Hannah-bug, c’mon old girl,” Mrs. Macintire called. “Come have breakfast in our bedroom with daddy, so you’re not bothering everyone.”

    The mother was holding a bowl and spoon in one hand and a box of cereal in the other, and she gave the Lucky Charms a teasing shake as if enticing a dog over with the sound of its box of treats.

    “I’m not bothering everyone!” Hannah argued with a fierce pout. “Tabitha, tell her I can stay—”

    “Hannah—now,” Mrs. Macintire’s voice turned stern. “If you come now, you can watch cartoons in there. But, if you’re dillying and dallying all day, then daddy gets the remote, and you’re watching whatever he wants. I think the news is on.”

    “Nooo,” Hannah groaned in disgust. “Ugh. The news is stupid and boriiiing!”

    “Well then, quit dillying, and quit dallying,” Mrs. Macintre gave the box another shake. “C’mon, c’mon. Let’s go, l’il girl.”

    “I wasn’t dillying,” Hannah said. “Or dallying!”

    The grumbling seven-year-old gave Tabitha an apologetic look, but in the end she scampered off towards the master bedroom. Tabitha mostly felt embarrassed—just a bit earlier this morning she had been impressed by how subtle and nuanced Mrs. Macintire was in sensing Tabitha’s mood was out of sorts and redirecting her attention. Then, here was this same woman but parenting Hannah this time, and manipulations were about as subtle as a bag of bricks. Now she couldn’t help but wonder if when seen from the outside, perhaps Tabitha’s teenage angst was managed just as easily as Hannah’s childishness.

    “She’s cute,” Vanessa said with a laugh.

    “She’s a handful,” Tabitha admitted, rising up from her spot on the couch.

    A vehicle had pulled up in front of the house, and stepping up to the window revealed Grace and Tiffany disembarking from an old truck. Grace was wearing bleached white jeans and a tie-dye long-sleeved shirt which was tucked in—another one of those weird early nineties fashion things which a select few kids carried on still into the late nineties somehow. The girl lingered at the window of the truck standing at attention and giving obedient nods as what looked to be her father gave her lengthy parting instructions on them being on best behavior. Tiffany on the other hand was awkwardly shifting on her feet and turning this way and that as she waited, both because she was juggling a two-liter of orange soda and several large bags of chips, and because this brisk January afternoon she had dressed as if for summer temperatures.

    Yellow shorts which were bold, ugly, eye-catching, and left the chubby girl’s pale and plump legs on bold display, and a skimpy light-blue spaghetti-string top that showed both a bit of cleavage and quite a bit of lacy white bra. Tabitha was speechless at the girl’s outrageous confidence and more than a little jealous of it, because although Tiffany wasn’t quite as heavyset as Tabitha used to be, Tabitha would have been way too self-conscious to ever dare to wear any of that. At any weight.

     “We will, I promise!” Grace could be heard even through the window. “Six o’clock, or we’ll call. Tiff will remind me! We’ll be fine. Dad—we’ll be fine!”

    Hugging the food and drink against herself, Tiffany turned around a wolfish smile which must have done nothing to inspire confidence for the poor man.Tabitha felt enormous relief at seeing the pair actually arrive—now her two confirmed friends in attendance had become four, the little Saturday shindig had already doubled in size, and it felt like some sort of bare minimum to escape social scrutiny or criticism had been achieved. At the same time, another car pulled up behind the truck, and Tabitha was surprised to see that Eric had arrived, apparently with his mom. Unlike Grace who was still antsy trying to be excused from her dad’s attention so she could hurry away with Tiff, Eric unbuckled in a hurry and hustled out of the car door without a second glance.

    “Grace and Tiffany are here,” Tabitha reported with a grin. “As well as Eric!”

    “Gross,” Vanessa huffed. “And, sad. Like, if you invited him just as a joke or like as a dig at me? Sad. Seriously.”

    “He’s our friend,” Tabitha rolled her eyes. “He sits at our same table in sixth, and we all talk! Don’t be weird or mean, please. Eric’s cool.”

    “Whatever!”

    “Is he cute?” Elena asked.

    “No,” Vanessa insisted. “He’s literally not.”

    “He’s cute…ish?” Tabitha tried to be objective. “Him and Vanessa always bicker, and that’s cute.”

    “It’s not cute, it’s annoying. Is what it is.”

    This first boy to arrive at her party was wearing a dark Nirvana t-shirt which had that smiley-face with Xs for eyes, and jeans. Eric didn’t appear to be fancying up or wearing anything more dressy than he might show up to school in, and Tabitha found that refreshingly authentic. So far, everyone else—perhaps excluding Grace—were dressing outside their usual high school norms, and the contrasts were interesting to examine and pick apart. It was a dynamic Tabitha hadn’t been able to observe much back during her birthday party, because those days had been colder and everyone back then was just wearing jackets and coats, their winter wear.

    Makes me think back to that essay I wrote when testing back into school, Tabitha mused. Teenagers experimenting with their self-expression. What they wear, and figuring out what it means comparing their ‘dress coded’ fit for school versus what they will wear otherwise when given more freedom. What they’re trying to say.

    To her surprise, as the car with Eric’s mother pulled away, Eric jogged over to help Tiffany with her armload of things. And then he also somehow had to start stooping over through the truck window there to give a polite little wave and introduce himself out of obligation to Grace’s dad. Grace stepped aside, looking absolutely mortified. Almost all of the people invited were still in that awkward fledgling youth stage where they were reliant on parents to get here, while said adults or any reliance on them was also the epitome of uncool.

    It’s easier for me here, because the Macintires aren’t my actual parents, Tabitha knew. I’d uh. I’d honestly be really struggling if mom or dad were here. To put on both of those different faces, when who I am with them and who I’m trying to be with my friends are very very different masks. It’s just one of those awkward terrible things when you’re growing up.

    When the teens outside were finally able to disengage and head towards the house, Tabitha made sure to hurry over to open the door and greet them.

    “Heeeey!” Tabitha called. “I’m so glad you guys could make it!”

    “Hey,” Eric gave an awkward wave.

    “Whassup girl!” Tiffany grinned, crinkling the bags of chips together in excitement. “We’re here, it’s party time! Let’s go!!”

    “Thank you so much for having us,” Grace said, glaring daggers at Tiffany and giving her friend a swat.

    “Come in, come in!” Tabitha urged. “You brought snacks! Cool. I baked cookies!”

    “Cool,” Eric said as he led the girls inside.

    “Ooh, cookies, what kind?” Tiffany asked. “Grace won’t eat raisin.”

    “Tiff, would you stop?!” Grace hissed, giving Tabitha an apologetic look. “Don’t be rude!”

    “Gracie-girl is all uptight!” Tiffany said. “Hah! I was all goin’ on to her dad ‘bout how I hope there’s beer, how yeah maybe there’ll be a keg, and all. Wanting to do shots, saying hope there’ll be cute college guys there. Grace was dying. Trying to find a hole to crawl into so she could disappear. It was great. Her dad’s all like—wait, what? Doin’ spit-takes every other word I said.”

    “It-it wasn’t funny!” Grace protested. “He thinks you’re being serious.”

    “Who says I’m not?!” Tiffany guffawed. “I mean, if—”

    Tabitha found that her cheeks were straining from how hard she was smiling—she absolutely adored the friendship these two had. The glasses-wearing Grace was mild mannered, awkward, and more than a little shy, but also inseparable from the much more outspoken, bombastic Tiffany. They were the perfect complementary pair, and Tabitha couldn’t help but think back to the well someone’s got to tell them I ordered ketchup and pickle only, and it’s not going to be me memes from the future.

    Tiffany was also an avid fan of all of Springton High’s gossip and indulged this vice often, passing along everything and anything she’d heard with zero regard to whether or not it might be true. It was strange meeting one of the mouths feeding the rumor mill that had tortured Tabitha since the start of the school year, perhaps even more so realizing how unabashed Tiffany was about her role there. Tiffany being ‘on her side’ now just meant there was even more meaty melodrama to divulge to any ears willing to hear about shenanigans with the cheerleaders trying to oppose her.

    The contrast between Tiffany’s overweight figure and how upbeat and outgoing she was really threw Tabitha’s own body image issues and social preconceptions through a loop. Likewise, Grace with her thick glasses and reserved, timid demeanor was actually instead hella athletic under her bookworm clothes—the only girl in their Personal Fitness class who could breeze through pushups and situps and also even do several pull ups. The dichotomy with these two girls between their physical figures and their self esteem or confidence challenged Tabitha’s deep-rooted subconscious assumptions about what should make someone naturally introverted or extroverted. Grace and Tiffany’s roles seemed so peculiar and inverted to her, like a plot twist that made the pair all the more fascinating to Tabitha.

    “Oh, um, no raisin cookies!” Tabitha assured them. “Just plain sugar ones, Art Club is gonna do a thing and maybe we can decorate them? For concessions at the art show. It’s like a test batch? The—oh, Eric you can just set that there on the counter, thank you.”

    Eric placed the two-liter of off-brand orange cola he’d carried in for Tiffany on the kitchen counter, and was joined a moment later by the girl as she set down the two big bags of chips. Tiffany also put her hand on Eric’s arm and leaned close to mouth a teasing thank you, and the overt flirtation on display there made Tabitha’s thoughts jolt to a stop. Especially because a moment later Tiffany turned away, bouncing over to the couch to sit with Elena and Vanessa. As if she hadn’t just startled Eric into freezing up and having a miniature existential crisis.

    Holy shit Tiff, you’re terrifying, was Tabitha’s first thought. I totally want to try that on Bobby, now. The idea that you can just uh, toss aside compunctions and just DO THAT, I uh. Well. HUH. I guess if not here, then when, right?

    She thought that perhaps her thought processes were too rigidly stratified into certain ways. Common convention or her idea of the social contract prohibited her from thinking up a lot of the terrifying things a teenage girl could just do whenever they wanted. Flirt with someone you barely know. Pile into a car with friends to go mess with a cute boy working the drive thru window late at night. Show off legs or tummy or God forbid cleavage with confidence here, like her friends were doing despite their age.

    Have I been just too set in my ways, too conservative in my thinking? Tabitha wanted to wince. I thought trying on my push up bra here for the first time was crazy provocative! Now it’s like, I’m going to be the most boring girl at my own little party. Something to think about. I felt all weirded out and like I was almost pushing my boundaries even just trying on a small size Art Club t-shirt. Like I’m thinking, ME, in a SMALL?! As if that must be impossible.

    “Tiffany and Grace are in first period with Tabitha and me,” Vanessa told Elena. “We’re all cool. Telling off the cheer bitches whenever they come to try and start shit. Tiff, Grace—this is Elena.”

    “Yeah,” Elena gave the two newcomers a nod. “We talked a bit yesterday.”

    “Heeey,” Grace gave Elena a weak wave. “Again.”

    “Holy shit ‘Nessa, damn,” Tiffany guffawed. “Look at the legs on you, where were you been hidin’ them?! And, never seen you without that hat you wear, either—”

    “I know!” Tabitha giggled. “This is the first time I’ve ever even seen her actual hair!”

    “And she looks great, damn,” Tiffany agreed, turning then towards Elena. “Now you just look freaking awesome. Like uh… those girls from The Craft. Any of you ever seen that movie? With Fairuza whatever her name is? Girl, I dig it. I totally dig it. Wish I could pull it off. Just, if I tried, no one would take me seriously. Hah. Oh uh, that’s a me problem though, you’re actually totally cool. You pull it off. Kudos.”

    “I think it’s really cool, yeah,” Grace added.

    “Um,” Elena seemed to need a moment to process what they said and ensure they weren’t being sarcastic or using subtext to take a dig at her. “Thanks.”

    “Eric!” Tabitha turned from the couch to see that the boy was still hiding over by the counter. “Doesn’t Vanessa look great today? What do you think?!”

    “Oh, stop,” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Don’t even—”

    “She looks nice?” Eric evaluated. “Yeah. Who’d have thought, huh?”

    “Pfftt—” Tiffany doubled over with laughter.

    “And what’s that supposed to mean?!” Vanessa sat up straight, livid. “Like you can even talk, loser. Loser.”

    “Aren’t they adorable?” Tabitha teased. “They’re like this all the time in sixth period, too.”

    “What about Tabitha?” Vanessa dared. “Eric, notice anything different about Tabitha today, hmm?”

    “‘Nessa, chill,” Elena sighed. “Don’t be all—”

    “Oooh, I do! I do I do I do!” Tiffany hopped up and down with her hand raised. “I noticed! I noticed!”

    “Noticed… what?” Grace looked Tabitha up and down in confusion, oblivious to the difference. “Her hair?”

    “Nothing!” Tabitha laughed, forcing herself not to hunch over or bring her arms up to cover herself, because that would make it obvious. “Nothing.”

    “Uhhh—?” Eric sounded wary of stepping into some sort of pitfall here. “Yeah. You do something new with your hair? New hairdo? Uh haircut? Style? Or, whatever? You look nice?”

    “Good answer,” Elena smirked.

    “Eric, be for real,” Vanessa scoffed. “You’re such a dork.”

    “What?!” Eric threw up his hands.

    “Eric, Grace—sit,” Tiffany insisted, waving them forward. “Eric, Grace is single. By the way. Her dad seemed to like you, too? Forget ‘Nessa, she’s the type of girl who won’t wantcha ‘till she sees someone else gotcha. Know what I mean? Hah!”

    “Y-you’re single too!” Grace sputtered. “It’s not like I’m the only one. Aren’t most of us single?! Or practically all of us?!”

    “Yeah, sure I’m single, but I invited a guy, so,” Tiffany showed off an insufferable smug look. “Matt. He’s a cutie! Called him earlier and made sure he’s coming. Ain’t no way he’s gonna chicken out on me now, nuh-uh. Told him to dress nice.”

    “Don’t go inviting other people to Tabitha’s party!” Grace was aghast. “What do mean you called—”

    “Wait, who’s coming?” Vanessa asked. “Matt who—Matthew Haynes? Did we already talk about this back in first period? Wasn’t he the one crushing on Tabitha?”

    “Or, was it the other way around?” Elena teased, forcing Tabitha to shoot her a look.

    Elena you’re NOT helping!

    “OoOOooh?” Tiffany crooned. “The plot thickens! Hahahaha!”

    “I-I don’t even know him!” Tabitha said. “I don’t think? I really don’t think we’ve ever even spoken?!”

    “But, do you like him, or not?” Vanessa asked. “Matt. He’s cute, right?”

    “I like Bobby!” Tabitha insisted, feeling her face grow hot. “I mean—I don’t like like Bobby, I’m just—more interested in Bobby. I invited Bobby! And, no I’m not like, crushing on him or anything but—”

    “Yeah, OKAY,” Tiffany retorted under her breath.

    “—But, he’s cool and I’m maybe a little bit interested in him. Bobby, I mean, and I don’t know a thing about Matt Haynes. Despite whatever everyone says!”

    “See?” Tiffany turned to Grace and spread her hands as if her point had been proven. “That’s what makes inviting Matt so much fun! Maybe him and Bobby will square up! Fight, fight, fight—”

    “You’re horrible,” Grace said, slapping her forehead with her palm. “Tiff…”

    “You for real like Bobby?” Eric asked Tabitha, interested at the admission. “Like, Bobby Anderson?”

    “Nobody was talking to you, Eric,” Vanessa made a face. “Can you not just butt in on our freaking private conversation between us girls?”

    “Wow, okay,” Elena laughed. “Vanessa I thought Tabby was teasing you about Eric, but now I kinda see it?”

    “See what?” Vanessa sneered. “My total freaking apathy and disgust?”

    “Vanessa be nice to Eric!” Tabitha admonished. “If we’re having a conversation, he’s included in that too. He’s right here with us!”

    “Uh, no he’s not, he’s actually—” Vanessa snorted.

    “Ooh okay I see,” Tiffany nodded. “I get it, ‘Nessa’s got it bad bad bad. Eric, forget poor pitiful Gracie I guess—you come sit your fine self right next to ‘Nessa. Come! Sit. Sit.”

    “Don’t even,” Vanessa warned. “Uh, barf.”

    “I… think I’m good?” Eric laughed, giving them an awkward stretch. “I can stand. Just uh, nice to stretch my legs some? Yep.”

    “Fine then,” Tiffany said. “We’ll just let you decide. Once and for all! Eric, if you had to pick between Vanessa and Grace, then. Would you go for crabby mean grouchy grouch girl who ain’t gonna give you the time of day, orrrr, this innocent cutie-patootie who—”

    “Tiff stop!” Grace growled, slapping a hand over Tiffany’s mouth this time. “I’m so sorry about her. She has a condition, I swear. She’s medically unable to think before she speaks. Things just spill out of her. Like tourettes. I’m so sorry.”

    “We uh,” Tabitha giggled. “We’re freshman, Tiffany. It’s just like a casual get-together? To all hang out. We don’t have to all like… pair up.”

    “I know, I know!” Tiffany laughed, shrugging free from Grace. “But, I mean… it’s funny?”

    “It’s kinda not?” Vanessa said. “Gag.”

    “That’s literally not what you were saying when we were coming in,” Elena pointed out with an arched eyebrow. “Vanessa, weren’t you the one who was all like boys, boys, where’s all the boys—”

    “Was not.”

    “Do y’all want this to be just like a lame platonic get together?!” Tiffany teased. “Or like, a freshman mixer. Like, the first real big freshman mixer! Come on, which of those sounds cooler?”

    “Freshman mixer,” Eric grinned. “That does sound way cooler?”

    “It kinda does,” Elena said.

    “Freshman mixer!” Tiffany threw her arms up. “Woohoo!”

    “Th-that’s not even a real thing!” Grace said. “And, Tiff—you don’t even know what ‘platonic’ means!”

    “Exactly,” Tiffany waggled her eyebrows in a manner which suggested she very much understood what it meant. “That’s me, hell yeah! Tiffie Myers; does not even know the meaning of the word platonic! Quick, somebody find a bottle for us to spin.”

    “Down girl, down,” Elena said.

    “It only counts as a mixer if we get some actual decent cute guys,” Vanessa said. “Otherwise—”

    “Eric’s cute,” Tabitha said. “Eric, you’re cute. Grace, Tiffany? Elena? Come on. Cute.”

    “Cute,” Elena decided after a moment of staring.

    Eric blinked in surprise.

    “Oh, he’s a cutie,” Tiffany giggled. “C’mon, Grace, speak some truth. Preach. Whatcha think? Eric—cute? Yay, nay? ‘Nessa keeps fumbling up on this one, I guess, so—”

    “I-I—don’t put me on the spot like that!” Grace sputtered. “I, uh—he’s fine? He’s okay? Not in like, not okay in a bad way, or anything! He’s like um, he’s not not cute?”

    Eric appeared to be rendered speechless by this sudden deluge of attention from everyone, and so he instead turned back towards the counter and opened one of the bags of chips.

    “Um, yes he isn’t?” Vanessa snorted. “Look, if—”

    “Ooh, so we go from double negatives to triple negatives?!” Tiffany made a show of trying to work out the logic with her hands. “He isn’t, not, not, cute? So, you’re basically saying—”

    “Hold that thought!” Tabitha perked up as she hurried back over to the front window. “Someone else pulled up!”

    “Better be some duuuudes,” Vanessa drawled out in complaint. “Please tell me it’s some decent guys. Some gorgeous dreamboat hotties. They don’t have to be freshmen! In fact—”

    “Whoa there, ‘Nessie,” Elena prodded. “Your desperate is showing.”

    “Don’t call me that!” Vanessa hissed. “Nessa is okay, Nessie freaking is not. Do we have our truce, or not?!”

    “It’s—it looks like—oh,” Tabitha turned back with a sheepish smile. “I think it’s Clarissa? Sorry.”

    “You invited Clarissa?” Eric asked. “I’d thought you forgot. Or, uh, that you weren’t—”

    “Tabitha,” Vanessa said. “Please please please tell me you didn’t invite just like, Eric. One guy. What happened to Bobby? What happened to freakin’ Brett?”

    “Matt Haynes’ll be here?” Tiffany said. “Should I, uh. Should I ring him again, and see if he has any handsome-ish buddy bros? And, see if they can bring more chips, too. Can I use your phone here, real quick? Grace won’t eat Sour Cream and Onion, but s’all I had at the house, since—”

    “Tiff don’t be rude!”

    “Well sorry, but you’re a super picky eater, and I’ve gotta look out for you, so—”

    “Should I have brought snacks?” Eric asked. “Damn. I coulda brought something.”

    “Aren’t we putting on a movie?” Elena wondered. “Do we even have the tape here?”

    “I invited some guys!” Tabitha said, feeling overwhelmed. “Um. Jake from my bus. Gary, too. We invited Bobby! And Brett, we did. The tape is… somewhere. Uhh—hold on, lemme go say hi to Clarissa and let her in. And, I baked big cookies! Give me a sec and I’ll pull them out and everyone can try!”

( 66, Young Kentucky girl in a push-up bra. | RE: Trailer Trash | Next, 67 pt 2 )

/// And, it's only gonna get worse from here on out! Don't know why I do this to myself. For this first section here, we're only at a paltry six people!

Tabitha - The protagonist. Possibly a girlfailure from the future.

Elena - Cool goth girl. Wants to be rebellious, but her mom doesn't always let her.

Vanessa - Social opportunist. Short. Part of Tabby's period 1 Personal Fitness clique, also in period 6 art at Tabitha's table.

Eric - Lone wolf guy at Tabitha's table for period 6 art class. Tragic angsty past?

Grace - Awkward shy Bible Club girl hiding killer abs. Longtime besties with Tiff. Personal Fitness clique.

Tiffany - The literal opposite of Grace. Longtime besties with Grace. Personal Fitness clique.

I had this section crunching away in edit for more polish, but then it started coming off as less authentic, so I walked it back a bit more into a believable chaotic mess. Hopefully still readable? But, yeah it's only gonna get worse from here. Tried to breadcrumb in a few last little pacing pauses as Tabitha spared thoughts towards this or that, but as conversation ramps up there isn't a whole lot of time for her mental deliberation, so. Hold on to your butts, I guess?