The Big Bad Bitch Strikes!

Bored, stoned, sitting in your basement all alone
'Cause your little conversation's got around
And look at what we all found out
Lookie here we all found out

That you have got a set of loose lips
Twisting stories all because you're jealous
Now I know exactly what you're all about
And this is what you're all about

—Ke$ha (Backstabber)

---

To apologize for how the party ended, Vee took me out to Borderline, a Mexican restaurant out on the corner of Drake and Beech. Marcie had been so kind enough to tell every one how I tripped over the snack table and short circuited the wires and plugs. 30 minutes into the party and everyone already had to bail. It didn't take long before I became Klutzilla, a total spaz.

     All beware.

     I couldn't go down the stairs or walk across campus without getting fifty-some remarks regarding my balance. It was totally unfair how no one bothered to get my side of the story. Well, no one other than, Vee and frankly her pity was doing nothing to lighten my mood. I had convinced myself to just stay under my covers and hide out in my dorm for a year, or at least until the whole thing blew over.

     Vee hauled me out of bed with the promise of paying for my lunch.

     Once there, we slid into a corner booth in the far back, sitting across from one another. Vee's attempts at distracting me were weak. She talked about her medical practices and how it was like dissecting a frog for bio, sophomore year. She gave up the small talk when the hostess laid down our order, taking the hint that I wasn't in a chatty mood and barely paying attention.

     I got a bowl of nachos with cheese, sweet salsa, and meat to dive into while Vee got some soft tacos and churro sticks. Jules showed up then, an unannounced skyscraper with feet. Jules was Vee's distant cousin—very distant cousin from France or something. I only knew him for a few years but, I already considered him as my horrible older brother than anything else. He stood at 6'4", with golden locks draped about his ears and really dark brown eyes.

     "Hey Klutzilla," he grinned impishly, shoving in beside me. His burly size took up most of the seat, what with him being a giant and all. Height just seemed to run in the family, but I've grown used to feeling this small around a bunch of giants.

     I frowned up at him. "Why did you have to call me that?"

     "I dunno, it's catchy," he shrugged.

     "Yeah, well so is Chancey," Vee teased, putting much emphases on his middle name. Jules Chancey Langeais—it is catchy, really.

     "I told you never to repeat that name on your life." He hissed, not a fan of why his mother decided Chancey was a good middle name for him.

     "It is catchy, look. Chancey, can you please pass the tea?" I said deliberately, using a snobby British accent. Vee and I chuckled a little. I stopped abruptly when his head snapped my way, his molten glare silencing me.

     "Cool it hot-head," Vee said, offering up a churro Jules took grudgingly enough. He eased up though, sinking in his seat a little so he didn't look so daunting. He eyed my bowl of nachos and dug in without asking first.

     "I can get some, right?" He asked as he brought the chips to his mouth.

     I shook my head incredulously, a quizzical look fixed on my face. "Yeah, sure, you already dug you claws into it."

     Vee grimaced at her slob of a cousin. "And I'm the fat ass,"

     I snorted.

     "Oh, hey your mom called. Says she wants to know why you've been avoiding her," Jules said.

"I'm not her avoiding her calls," Vee muttered, but she was guilty enough. Vee wanted to be a surgeon, mainly because she was gross and into the whole slicing and dicing deal, but her mom wanted her to become a professional dancer. She spent years at art academies and had tons of ballet lessons only to end up at Coldwater U. to be a surgeon. She had been avoiding her mom since she got to C.U.

     Unfortunately, Jules also knew this and we knew Jules. He didn't like to play nice.

     Vee's face burned into a death glare as a knowing grin made it's appearance on Jules' face. "I swear to God, Jules—" Vee started but I didn't here the end of her threat. My attention was drawn to a busboy a few tables down and a tall blond who—oh hell, it was Marcie!

     "Oh, come on!" I groaned and sunk in my seat, using Jules body to draw attention away from me.

     Vee stopped short and furrowed her brows. "What?"

     "Marcie," I hissed, as if her name was a sin.

     "What? Where, where?" She grew tense. "Want me to beat her up? Just say yes, and I'll beat her up. No questions." She demanded without pause but I just shook my head.

     "Lets just get out of here, before she sees us," I said in hushed tones, trying to shove Jules out. The back door was a few feet front us. We could get out undetected.

     "Too late for that," Jules chuckled and I frowned. Glancing up, I saw Marcie, turn sharply on her toes and stalk towards us. I think it was too late to hide under the table.

     "Oh, no, no, no, she's coming over here!" I groaned, briefly considering hiding under Jules' armpit but thought better of it. I thought I'd have a better chance at surviving another encounter with Marcie than the stink of his body odor. Jules could wear shirts for days until he finally couldn't take his own stench. He was a pretty toxic fellow.

     "Calm down woman!" Jules snapped around a mouthful of my nachos, a chip flying out. Vee and I exchanged a grimace. Jules was such a slob.

     "Exactly," Vee said slowly, eying Jules incredulously but he only pretended not to notice. Shuddering in repulse, she fixed her gaze on me. "I'm right here and we both know she won't do anything stupid or else I'll have to kick her ass and you know I'm dying for a reason to." She reassured me and even though I relaxed a notch, I was definitely not convinced.

     Marcie was a girl of no morals or principles. On her spare time, she probably boiled little kids in her cauldron while cackling like the freak she was.

     I heard Marcie before I saw her, strolling up beside Jules. "Oh, look. It's Klutzilla and her freak show attraction." She glanced at the glaring Vee. "Hey super-size," she added. Vee gave an undistinguished sound that barely filtered as a greeting. "Oh, I'm sorry, you don't speak English?"

     "What do you want?" Vee demanded, impatiently.

     Marcie's eyes narrowed then relaxed. "Apparently, what I did was not nice so I came to apologize," she sighed.

     Vee spoke. "Sorry for the trouble but you can save it. We really don't care to hear your bull crap."

     "You'd know as much," Marcie shot and before I knew it, Vee was on her feet and in Marcie's face, her lips screwed in a snarl.

     "I'm really getting tired of your attitude Millar,"

     "Boo-freak'n-hoo, Skye. Can't take the heat?" she retorted, sizing up to Vee in her needle-point heels.

It was obvious that Vee would crack any second; these two had been scrapping it out since they met but I didn't want them to cause a scene here. So I quickly spoke. "I think it's time that you left Marcie," For a moment I thought they didn't hear me, I certainly wasn't loud. But after they stared each other down for a moment longer, Marcie snorted and stepped back.

     "Trying to be nice and look where it gets me." She murmured as she turned away.

     "Bitch," Vee seethed, probably shooting mental daggers at the back of her head.

     "Don't forget it," Marcie sang-sung over her shoulder, unfazed by the remark. She sashayed off, blowing a kiss to Patch on her way out the front door. I think it's safe to say that Jules and I weren't the only ones expecting a fight to go down. Some of the customers seemed disappointed. Jules in particular. He sat back from the edge of his seat, frowning.

     "You should've snuffed her." Jules said as a matter-of-fact and I couldn't help but punch him for being such a pig when I knew he was right. Marcie would've deserved as much. I felt pretty pathetic for not standing up to her this time. She humiliated me throughout campus and the upper class-men and for what? Talking to Patch? I hardly said anything to the guy!

     What was she threatened by, really? The glasses? My IQ? Or was it just the mere joy of picking on someone who wouldn't fight back? Me and my stupid morals. I knew I should've just hidden under the covers.