Sta.sh
It all started with pigtails I guess. Maybe. I don't know, actually, but it's were I'm going to start. She was asking for it, I swear, I was eleven years old and she was new, her hair, just like mine, was in pigtails but, unlike my average length hair, hers had gone all the way down to her waist. Who in their right mind has hair almost as tall as they are? No one. That's who.
The teacher, Mrs. Laurence, sat The New Girl in the empty desk in front of me, surprisingly enough. (sadly, that wouldn't have been the first time I had pulled other girls' hair, definitely wouldn't be the last, I used to try and give reason as to why I had loved going around in gym, the grocery store, my neighborhood, my classrooms, clothing stores, the mall, the food court… well you get the point, basically everywhere, pulling hair. The school's guidance councilor had probably blamed it on jealousy, but really, I just liked it. There was no reason, no point, no plot or rising conflict or climax. I just liked to pull hair.)
anyway, eleven years old and I was in class physically sitting on my hands so I wouldn't reach up and pull the twin braids jutting out of The New Girl's head. I mean come on, it was worse than eve and the serpent, at least the dumb broad was told not to eat the apples in the first place, I, on the other hand, had a taste before god told me to stop.
I don't even know what it was, but it was worse than in 4th grade with Cindy Marquis and her ridiculously curly hair, bouncing around on the jungle gym. With her, at least I had reason, and I kinda…wouldn't have pulled some of it out if she wouldn't have freaked the second she saw me, but, you know, accidents happen.
Okay, well, actually, maybe I did kinda, sort of, have one idea as to why I really, really, really, really, wanted to pull her hair. She was sitting close enough that I could smell her coconut lip-gloss with little tiny sparkles in it. Yeah, that's it; the fumes coming from her lips got me partially high for about five minutes.
A lip gloss which I maybe owned. And sort of wore everyday. One that I knew the flavor of. And maybe that thought kinda startled me. I knew what New Girl's lips tasted like. Scary thought for an eleven year old girl to have.
In my defense I did wait as long as possible before pulling her hair, after about fifteen minutes I was no longer sitting on my hands and I begun tapping anxiously at the graffiti laying at the bottom corner of the wooden desk.
Now at this point I'm pretty sure my class was paying more attention to me and my very obvious display of insanity. But I'm pretty sure before that they were taking notes very studiously, as twelve and eleven year olds are supposed to. And this is where you laugh at my horrible attempt to distract you.
Did it work? Yeah, didn't think so.
To get on with the story, five minutes later I was only about a centimeter away from tugging on her almost glowing blonde pigtails, the entire class was holding their breath waiting for the second I claimed another victim, but the bell rang. The class let out a very audible gasp, she stood up, and my hand magically appeared inside my backpack, throwing in my books in almost frustration.
The problem was that that continued to be the theme of that day. I had about 3 more classes with her, other than first hour math, we also had art, science, and P.E. In science she sat at the other end of the classroom entirely so it was a little less of a distraction, though I did end up going to the pencil sharpener about 7 times, just so I could see if there was any way to get close enough to actually not rouse suspicion, that plan sadly failed.
Art was easier, I tended to walk around the classroom anyway, so it seemed a little less crazy, but each time I got remotely close to her and her hair she managed to evade me every time.
P.E, although the most opportune time to get away with it, I never did. it was the last hour of the day, but it was also a Monday, which meant mile run, and well, she was about a gazillion times faster than me, and since we did the mile run around the school, instead of around the track, she was always just out of reach.
Damn, I wished I could have just given up. Instead, I made it my goal for the next day to get it over and done with during first hours so I wouldn't have to do all that running around. Then at I could have continued happily getting a D for Phy. Ed.
After I had dressed back into my street clothes I briefly saw Braids walk out of the locker room. Sighing, I finished tying my shoes then grabbed my backpack and waited for the bell to ring, just like New Girl should have done. (What? Just because I had a problem with hair pulling didn't mean I broke any other school rules.)
After the bell rang I started on my trek home (okay, so I wasn't really an outdoorsy kind of girl, but walking a mile home with 37 pounds of books strapped onto my back counted… sort of.)
About a block away from school I spotted Pigtails. She was just walking, like, no gimmick or anything. Dang, although her running was about as fast as a friggin' cheetah, her walking was deliberate and slow.
From then on I basically acted like a ninja…or a stalker…I was hiding behind bushes, under rocks, climbing through trees, all to catch up to The New Girl and her long ass pigtails. my god, if I had put this kind of work into everything I had done than maybe I could have been a doctor by the time I was 16.
After about three blocks I had finally (finally) caught up to her. I had slowly (very, very slowly) reached out with both of my hands. if this girl was able to avoid me all day, then she was gonna get the double whammy, no way in hell I was letting her off easy after all that she had put me through.
the problem was my right hand just a fraction of a second faster than my left, so when I grabbed a hold of her right braid she pivoted quickly, startling me, almost making me drop her single braid. (That had then created a weird cross-bridge of hair.)
Admittedly, that was probably the first time I saw her face, god, she had like these big doe eyes, deep and brown (unlike the blue that I assumed they were) she had this scared little woodland animal look to her face, with these, like, perfect lips.
I jolted when I realized that I was staring at her mouth maybe just a little longer than I should have. I then quickly pulled my eyes away from her mouth and when I saw that in her hasty spin her other pigtail swung to her front; was just draping over her chest and ended a ways past where I guessed her bellybutton was.
After about thirty seconds of her staring at my dear-in-the-headlights look, I slowly raised my other hand (that, before, had been clutched in a tight fist haphazardly at my side) crossed it under my right arm and latched onto her other braid.
She didn't even try to stop me in any way before I tugged gently, half-heartedly, and briefly at her amazingly soft pigtails. When I did so her eyes closed shut and her breathing had become rigid, while I just held on, astounded at her reaction.
After five minutes of doing nothing she softly pulled her hair from my sweaty palms and walked away.
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*braindead*
*concussion*