There’s a new girl at school.
Sasha told me she made out with the entire football team in her old middle school. They last heard she was pregnant, and that was why she had to leave. Where’s the baby, though?
Tony said his boys are already trying to hit her up. She seems to be responding quite well, he told me. In a week or two, one of his boys will start banging her brains out, creating earthquakes that will tear her entire house down. She already told one of his friends that she loved him, so it’s going to happen real soon—that was what he told me.
Milan said her dad is an alcoholic. He would be drinking at the bar all night, wasting away the day’s salary, which is why their family is still stuck in this town. Her mom is sleeping around. She must have taken after her, he said.
Georgia said her skirts were too high, and her cleavage always showed. She usually sees her at the library. Why is she at the library all the time? Oh, I’d rather not know.
“Have you met your new classmate?” asks Ms. Garcia, pointing at the girl with her nose. The new girl was slim. She was wearing a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of Nike kicks. She gives me a smile, the kind that shelter dogs give to visitors at the pound.
I return the smile and choose another seat at the back of the classroom. I already know her well enough.