Mean Girls: New Girl / Confessions of an Angry Girl / Here Lies Bridget / Speechless

My cheeks, I was sure, were growing even redder. “I’m not a prude, I just … I’m not thirsty.”

That was a stupid response. They looked like they knew it, and walked off.

I sighed and took a step backward. There was a yelp behind me, and I leaped as I realized I’d stepped on some girl’s foot.

“Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.”

“No problem. I’m Blake.”

“Hi, I’m apparently ‘the new girl.’”

She laughed. “This is my boyfriend, Cam.”

“Hi, Cam.” I glanced back at the two guys who had just walked away from me.

“I’d stay away from them.” Cam took a sip from a red cup.

“Really?”

“Yeah, they’re harmless, but I mean, they’re pushy.”

I looked around at everyone else. It was strange, because there was music and drinking and there were games, but everyone was kind of quiet. It was like a detention pizza party. “Everyone’s sort of … subdued.”

“Yeah.” She looked around, too. “It’s not usually like this.”

I nodded, as if in understanding, and looked back out. Then the two of them started talking, and I felt like I should drift away. So I did. I sat down against a wall, suddenly eager to leave.

“You want to play?”

Another guy I hadn’t met yet walked over to me. I really hoped they weren’t all skeevy. This guy didn’t look like he would be, though. He had shortish blond hair and an overall pleasant look about him. He probably didn’t have to resort to being creepy.

“Play?” I asked.

He gestured to the table behind him. “Beer pong? Well … water pong. We don’t have any beer.” He smiled.

I envisioned the scene. Me playing, being terrible and being entirely lame and disappointing. “No, thanks, I’m really bad.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “With no beer it’s just for fun.”

“No, really. Thank you, though.”

Now I was being antisocial.

“Well, then.” He held out a hand. “I’m Johnny.”

“I—”

“Oh, new girl, right? Can I get you a drink?”

I sighed. “Right.” Then, abruptly feeling like it might not be a bad idea, I said, “Maybe one small drink.”

Johnny laughed and made me one. He added one shot. I thanked him, and took a sip.

“So what brings you to Manderley in your senior year?”

“My parents. I used to want to come here when I was younger. My parents got me in because a spot opened up, thinking I still really wanted to come.”

His features hardened a little.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it here so far, I just … I liked my old school, too.”

“Are you … Is Dana your roommate, then?”

“Yes, she is. I haven’t really talked to her yet.” I thought of her stony silence. “She didn’t want to come down tonight.”

“That’s too bad. Not surprised, though.” He looked behind him. “Well, if you change your mind about playing let me know. I have to go find someone since you don’t want to.” He gave me a smile, and found a new partner.

I stayed for another half an hour without being approached by anyone. I drank my drink and then headed out after saying goodbye to the few people I’d talked to. Ricky tried to convince me to have more shots before I left. I declined, and then hurried away from him as politely as possible.

Outside, I turned the corner on the dark, dusty stairs and nearly screamed as I ran into a figure.

“Whoa,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” It was dark, and we were illuminated only by the running lights at our feet. I could just barely make out his face, which seemed almost familiar. I looked away and started up the steps. I stumbled, dumbly, and he caught my wrist.

“Are you a freshman?” he asked.

“N-no.” I shook my head. His hand was warm, and still held on to me.

“Then you’re the new girl.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes.”

I saw his pale eyes squint briefly, and then he dropped my hand. A small chill ran through me, and I wanted him to say more. I wanted to say more, but I didn’t know what.

“Sorry for running into you.” I turned and walked up the steps, not understanding at all what had just happened.

As I snuck quietly through my door, I realized I didn’t know where the light switch was. More than that, I couldn’t turn on the overhead light since Dana was apparently sleeping. I flicked on my flashlight and stepped carefully to my bed, but not without stubbing my toe painfully on the suitcase under the bed. I bit my lip to keep from swearing, and then searched in the darkness for any of my things.

In the end, all I could find was my comforter and my pillow. I took off my jeans and slid noisily into bed. It was hard at first to fall asleep. I was cold and uncomfortable. I missed my big, cushy bed and the rest of my pillows, and even Jasper’s annoyingly frequent snoring that would only cease after a nudge in the ribs from me.

At home when I couldn’t sleep, I would make myself a little crudités plate like my dad always did, with Ritz crackers, cheeses, Wickles Pickles (the only kind worth buying), different kinds of meats, grapes….

Or maybe just a cup of tea and some of those jam-and-shortbread cookies my mom made and almost always had around. Suddenly nothing would be better than to tiptoe into my quiet living room, always lit by the fancy dim light in the corner, and cozy up on the couch to watch old Frasier reruns until unconsciousness swept me away.

I couldn’t even think about it without getting a pain in my stomach.

I finally fell asleep, into weird dreams filled with distorted elements of Manderley I must have subconsciously taken in, but which I still didn’t recognize.