Read Online Margarette (Violet) by Johi Jenkins, K LeMaire - Free Book Online Page B

in
anger.
    “Are you crying?” Julie asks.
    All of the girls turn back to look at Margarette
except for Sharon who still has Mikey’s tongue in her mouth.
    “Am I crying? Are you crying?”
    “Why would I be crying?” Julie is lost. “I said are you crying?” she repeats.
    “Am I crying? Are you crying?”
Margarette returns, almost enjoying being this obnoxious.
    “Wha…” Julie’s jaw drops. “No, I’m not crying.”
    Alice fights to conceal a chuckle at Julie’s
expense and Margarette’s ability to manipulate her.
    “Why not?” Margarette asks. “I’d cry if I were
you.”
    “Why would I?” Julie asks as she starts to recant
current events.
    “I’d cry if I was born like you,” Margarette
replies, and pushes Julie to the side, turning her around. Sharon finally pulls
back from Mikey’s face and a line of spit drips from his mouth into hers.
    “What the frick?” Margarette hears Julie call
behind her, indignantly.
    “Exactly,” she says over her shoulder.
    But Julie reaches out and grabs Margarette’s arm,
digging her claws into her.
    “You’re just weird,” Julie says as she grips her
arm. “No one will ever want you.”
    Margarette shakes off Julie’s grip and smiles
coldly. She fires into Julie’s ear, barely opening her gritted teeth. “ Look
at yourself. Look at Alice. Look at the way she looks down at you. If I was
her, the only reason I’d keep you around is to make myself look better .”
    Julie hisses, and takes a second to reply. “Is
that why you’re with her?”
    They lock eyes. Margarette says, “I’m not someone
she’d use like she does you .”
    “Just because you kind of got pretty this year doesn’t
change a thing.” Julie slips an accidental compliment that explains much about
her disdain and mistreatment.
    Margarette smiles dismissively as Alice approaches
them, and raises her voice to normal level. “And I… don’t care.”
    Alice says suddenly, her voice a little pained,
“Hey Margarette… I didn’t want to leave you at the party.”
    “But you did,” Margarette reminds her.
    Sharon walks up to Margarette, parting the girls.
“Do you like my idea, you little whore? I’m going to have sex with everyone
Tommy hates. He’s going to blame you and I don’t ever have to deal with him
again.”
    Margarette just blinks, a blank expression on her
face.
    “Everyone loves me and every guy wants to frick
me,” Sharon muses.
    “Cheap thrills draw crowds,” Margarette replies.
    “Nothing I do is cheap,” says Sharon.
    “There’s nothing to say to that,” Margarette
shrugs, and again starts to walk away.
    “You got that right, bitch,” Sharon ends as
Margarette finally gets away from them, walking on the side of the football
field.
    As Margarette puts some distance between them, she
mutters, “I fricking hate her.” Some weird repressed memory surfaces of
Margarette’s grandmother, when she was still alive, telling Margarette not to
hate. The thought shakes her and she doesn’t know if she wants to smile or cry.
At least now that she’s alone she feels relief that she doesn’t have to perform
for those bitches or live up to their expectations.
    In spite of what the girls wanted, Margarette refuses
to put her head down. Instead, she spins around in her short skirt, fanning out
the pleats. She struts away as the other girls call her a whore and a slut,
while the football players joke and call out asking for her number. Margarette
smiles out of nowhere with an eerie delight, as she considers giving them her
house number and imagining the whole team hooking up with her drunken mother. Her
mood lifts, and even the red low tops seem to fit a little better as she passes
the middle of the field.
    The parking lot is just on the other side.
Margarette walks right through the football field directly through the practice
and the players start ignoring the coach.
    “Damn it, Coyotes!” The coach screams.
    Some of them remain distracted and the