Underneath It All by Traci Elisabeth Lords Read Free Book Online

times before, I knew what was coming. It was about pecking order. If you wanted any respect you had to fight for your place. I'd avoid insensitive teachers hunting me down announcing to the entire cafeteria that I'd forgotten my free-meal coupon, which would seal my doom with the title of "loser" forever. I was in a foul mood. Didn't any of these teachers ever think about what it must be like to be a poor kid in a rich world?

How could people so oblivious to reality teach me anything?

The vultures had been circling the playground waiting for me to make my move. They were all so ... white, but that was where our similarities ended. I felt like I was from another planet with my Ohio look. A stranger in a strange land, I sat completely still on a bench looking for Lorraine, my partner in crime. I couldn't see her anywhere. My sister was usually close by, since she was only one grade ahead of me, but now I wondered if older classrooms had recess in another area. My thoughts drifted to Saturday-morning cartoons and I envisioned the Wonder Twins, who could disappear in times of trouble. I concentrated, thinking how cool it would be if it really worked, for once. But I was still here.

My mop of curly light brown hair and pale skin stuck out like a sore thumb. California girls didn't wear makeup, so I wiped the red gloss from my lips and crossed my arms over my breasts, hoping no one would notice me. Sitting on the bench counting pebbles, I watched shoes go by. I saw Vans, Reeboks, and a pair of hot pink thongs — a far cry from the winter snow boots of Ohio. I was glad I'd worn my red Christmas shoes. Mom had bought them for me last year and I'd been saving them for a special occasion. They twinkled prettily in the sun like Dorothy's in
The Wizard of Oz
. "You're a long way from Kansas, Dorothy," I giggled to myself.

I caught pieces of conversation that made no sense. I didn't have the California slang down yet. It was like another language, but I tried to relax and enjoy it. I told myself it was an adventure, pretending I was in a foreign country. I was daydreaming about France when these long golden-brown legs walked right up to me and demanded my attention. Hello, legs. The feet were bare, a no-no I had been told by the plump school administrator that very morning. The toenails were well groomed and painted slate-black with a silver thunderbolt on the big toes. Looking up, I saw the girl was wearing an AC/DC T-shirt with a thunderbolt on it. My favorite band! I was immediately in awe of her.

She stopped right in front of me and we stared each other down, my eyes intense as I dared this rock chick to mess with one of Ozzy's own. But she just looked at me, snapped her gum, and said, "So, you just moved in with the freaks next door, huh?"

Before I could say anything, she was sitting next to me gathering pebbles into a pile. We talked about music and I was relieved to find one thing that hadn't changed. Kids everywhere liked heavy metal music. Ozzy was a god and Judas Priest reigned on high.

Dee Dee gave me an education, pointing out which teachers gave pop quizzes, which homework I should do, and what I didn't have to bother with. I found out beer drinking and pot smoking were common pastimes in junior high, and that Dee Dee often stole the butts of marijuana cigarettes out of her parents' ashtray and sold them for a buck apiece on the playground.

We were interrupted by a couple of boys walking by. One of them made a comment about "the new chick" and wham! Dee Dee hurled pebble after pebble at his naked ankles. I found myself grinning at her feistiness. Thump, bam . . . ooouch ... quit it! They hightailed it across the playground lickety-split and she went back to her rock collecting. Her calm blue eyes seemed wise beyond their years and were burdened with experience. I wondered if she suffered from the same afflictions I did. She told me she lived in the house next door with a bunch of freaks she happened to be related to.