The next day, Sunny carefully observed all that was happening at school. She walked, stared at the concrete floors, and mostly just avoided eye contact. With anyone. Especially the Kitties. They were the four popular girls who ruled the school: Callie, Tate, Ashley, and Selena. Blondest of the blondes. She was the biggest Kat. The girls were gorgeous, straight-teethed, thick-waisted, and wore designer fashions. Called themselves the kitties because they were frustratingly independent, elegant, and aloof.
Sunny could imagine that they would be given cars on their sixteen birthdays, recharged with the newest iPhone every Christmas, and have their own debit cards for shopping sprees. They had all the privileges of the world. They were everything, and she was nothing.
***
The bell rang. Sunny, holding an empty metal bottle, started searching for a water fountain. She asked a short bubbly teacher, who then pointed her to a part of the school she'd never been to before.
"It's behind that wall right there, in the corner," she said, pointing to a blue tarp that covered a whole section of the building.
"The part that's under-construction?"
"Yes."
"What's it for?"
"New bathrooms. Private bathrooms," she said, lowering her voice.
"Huh?"
"You know, for she-males. We don't want any incidents of people pretending to be transgender to get access to bathrooms or anything. We'll see how it goes."
"Oh," said Sunny, looking confused as if she couldn't comprehend how even the bathroom had become a battleground for equality.
"I mean, I it's so gay. I'm glad the school is taking initiative. Some of don't have dysphoria," she the teacher. "They don't even look transgender." Sunny was shocked that a person with such authority could hold such ignorant views. Reluctant to, Sunny nodded, thanked her, and scurried over.
She looked as if her mind was moving, realizing that she was more similar than different to transgender people. That she too, was rejected by society and had to fight for her identity.
When Sunny arrived at the fountain, her jaw dropped and immediately she turned away, repelled by the sight before her. How inappropriate.
A brunette girl was pushed up against the water fountain, back arched like the top of a bendy straw. Holding her shorts that could probably go as underwear, was a brown-haired boy dressed in a hockey captain hoodie. Eyes closed and lips tangled, the sides of their faces mushed together. In all truth, Sunny had not expected this prodigy of the tongue.
The boy plunged it around like some writhing sea-shape into the girl's gaping maw, clearly overpowering her senses. They wiggled their mouths around and never stopped for air. Sunny looked disgusted and angry as if a bomb was boiling inside her stomach about to explode. It reminded her of the bears, their aggression, and lust. The boy occasionally dug his fingers in the buns of the girl, surging his tide of warmth up her leg. The kissing scene Sunny found was a smack dab between two adjectives: steamy and hot.
Quickly, nostrils flared, Sunny backed away and hid behind the blue tarp. She did not catch a glimpse of their faces because all she could think about was that it was gross.
Yet somehow, she seemed intrigued by the action. Her eyes had an unexplainable desirous emotion of both disapproval and rebellion. It was like one of those scenes in the movies, in which mother would always fast-forward. She would skip over it, pause the movie, and give her another lesson. But now the fact that she wasn't here to fast-forward it made her feel ever the more alive, free.
She poked her head out from the blue tart and took another peek. And then another. Sunny rolled her neck to release the growing tension. But suddenly, she blinked thrice as if realizing a horrible fact that would change everything. The girl looked like Selena's friend, the brunette who she saw earlier in hooker heels. Callie. And the boy so passionately playing with her tongue was Cole. Selena's prince-charming Cole. Sunny could never forget his visage. How could they do this to her?
Sunny's muscles flicked angrily at her jaw. She cracked her neck as if in preparation for a fight to defend her friend. Then she stormed off to class as the bell rang. Ding. Ding. Ding.
***
"So, what are you thinking of the school? How are the teachers?"
"Fine."
"How's Serina?"
"Selena is fine."
"You know, Sunny. It was wrong of me to be so harsh on you."
"Hmm."
"It's okay Sunny. Your father and I approve. No need to modest. We know you had been hanging out with her at the park."
"What?"
"We think it's good that you are close with somebody." Sunny was close with her. And suddenly it all disappeared.
"You know, you can invite her over if you want."
"She won't come."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Whatever, it's up to you." Sunny didn't want her parents to worry or for them to be involved. The next thing you know they are calling Selena's parents giving them a hard lesson. They sat like this for a long time.
"Ok, well I'm sure you have loads of homework. Get on with it then sweetie." The sun had set lower in the sky and it was begging to freeze Sunny's toes. Sunny looked lonely as if she was holding her posture but secretly dying inside. She looked emotionally strung like she really needed Lyssa to say something good. Something sweet. She didn't.
***
Sunny spent the next few hours scrolling through Selena's socials. Even for someone who wasn't good with numbers, Sunny knew that she had a lot of followers. She saw thousands of intimidating profiles staring back at her. But when Sunny scrolled through her own page, she could spot perhaps a few. Her stalking confirmed the fact that Selena was her friend, but that Sunny wasn't hers.
She stood up straighter. Scrolled down to the photos where she would be reminded of how much of her life she was missing out on this party and that party, this friend and that. Sunny was never invited. Sunny wasn't white, or pretty, or popular. Sunny was an outcast.
She turned pale for a moment, then meekly sighed. Why wasn't she lucky enough to be the good breed? Sunny's real disease was her yellow cheeks. And you can't cure yellow cheeks. Not unless you paint them white.
Suddenly, Sunny's expression turned brisk and business-like, as if she had a dangerous plan.
***
In the cafeteria, Sunny held her lunch bag like an idiot. Did nobody bring lunch here? Sharing food was the thing in middle school, trading seaweed with rice cakes, gushers for Lays. She noticed that all the seats are taken. Bodies brushed around her. She kept turning, looking. At last, she found Selena sitting alone on a table in the corner instead.
Sunny smiled and inched toward her. Their eyes met for barely a second but Selena quickly turned away. Sunny's eyes dropped to the ground. Had she done something wrong? It didn't matter. She was going to talk to her, ask her about her classes, be like normal friends. Sunny bordered the table until she came to face her.
She asked politely, as her mother had taught her, if anyone was sitting here. It took Selena a good second to respond, and when she did, it was a defeating scan. Up and down with her blue eyes, studying her with unforgiving judgment. It made Sunny uncomfortable, as if she deserved some sort of punishment. Selena grabbed her bag off the floor with great force and threw it on the seat beside her. She gave her one last look and said, "Sorry, seats taken." Selena returned to her text messages, proving to be a cold-hearted bitch.
"Hey..." Selena didn't respond. "Can we talk?"
"About..." She fluttered her eyelids and rolled her eyeballs.
"I saw something today at the fountain. Thought you should know."
"What are you talking about? Ok. Look, we were never that close anyway. Plus, you're not a Kitty. I don't wanna be seen with... with someone like you." Sunny's mind went grey in confusion.
"Someone like me?"
"Yeah, you loser."
"So, that's it?"
"As I said, seat is taken." Selena didn't even look at her when she talked. Sunny tried to gulp down the soreness. But couldn't control herself when she saw Selena's predatory expression. She started to turn red, like a messed-up cherry. The heat from the tip of her toes boiled up and rushed to her cheeks. Sunny, whose veins in her neck stood out with livid ridges, grabbed Selena's wrist.
She dug her fingers in, and I could tell it would leave a stain. Selena, mouth thinning with displeasure, said "Fuck you, chink." Then, her voice staggering in its venom and face lit with bitter triumph, she gave her the keep-your-fucking-mouth-shut kind of glare. Sunny responded with a crazed look and venomous little red eyes. An unwavering glare held them in place. She was going to kill her.