Valley High was your typical American high school. It had its nerds, its jocks, its weirdos, its mean girls, its creepers, and a majority of unremarkable, average nobodies. And above them all was the Queen, the Head Cheerleader. And at Verona High, the Queen was Angela Chambers. To say Angela was pretty was to insult her. She was the perfect image of the All-American beauty queen: tall, leggy, blonde, blue-eyed, with perky but classy C-cup breasts—neither too boyish nor too whorish—and the best fashion money could buy. It goes without saying that Angela Chamber was also a bitch with a capital B. She was the one with the real power in the school, and she knew it. She ruled over the unwashed throng of students and never let them forget it. Angela’s life was perfect in every way, or so she thought. Sure, maybe a part of her was unhappy to conform to such a mundane stereotype but that part was buried very, very, VERY deep. That is, until the day Rachel Jones strutted into Valley High’s hallways.
Rachel’s beauty rivaled Angela’s, but hers was all fierceness and non-conformity. Spikey pitch-black pixie undercut with the shaved sides dyed bright red, alabaster skin, tattoos of skulls and flowers on various part of her body, dark eyeshadow, even darker lipstick, and metal rings in her ears, nose, tongue, lips, and nipples. Her breasts were larger than Angela’s own—a lewd pairs of DD sweater puppies whose ring-piercing nipples were revealed by her tight black tank top, which she wore without a bra. A leather jacket, leather miniskirt and thigh high stiletto boots completed the ensemble. Angela immediately recognized the threat Rachel posed to her reign—the new girl was clearly a rebel, a firebrand that delighted in in mocking her hierarchical superiors—Angela in this case—and encouraging others to do the same. Angela had snuffed out other would-be anarchists before, but, unlike those, Rachel had the looks to compete.
Still, Angela decided that to confront the new arrival immediately would simply give her legitimacy as a rival, which of course was laughable. She thus decided to simply ignore the girl and wait. With that clear a disdain for the rules, Rachel was likely to get herself expelled by her own fault, Angela reasoned.
But things didn’t go as Angela expected. Certainly, Rachel broke the rules, constantly. Even if you did not believe the wilder rumors about her penchant for vigorous sex on school grounds with members of both genders, it was an observable fact that she smoked, swore and wore skimpy clothes that were clearly against the dress code. But somehow, she managed to do all that without any consequences. After a couple months, rumors started going that Rachel was fucking the principal and most of the teachers and that this was how she kept getting away with her behavior. Normally, Angela would not be giving any credibility to those rumors, because she would have been who had started them. She had used the tactic before on a wannabe rival—start a few rumors about an illicit liaison with a staff member, and the principal would quickly expel the problem student to minimize any risk to the school’s reputation. But this time, the whispers weren’t her doings, and that meant two things: either they were true, or someone else was trying to get Rachel out of the picture, probably to clear the way to make their own move on Angela’s crown. This was too much for Angela—she hadn’t worked so hard to be the Queen Bee of this shithole of a school to be dethroned, directly or indirectly, by a wannabe punk whore a few months before graduation.
So it happened that, one Monday morning after first period, Angela Chambers confronted Rachel Jones in the school main hall, with an audience consisting of, well, almost every student of Valley High. Everyone knew what was going to happen and nobody wanted to miss it.
“Hey skank,” Angela started as she walked towards Rachel, busy putting the moves on a guy from the basketball team, “I don’t know if you noticed, but this is a school, not a street corner.” Laughter. Angela smiled a mean smile. She was on her home turf and she knew her audience—this punk was done for.
“And who might you be?” responded Rachel, slightly amused. This stopped the laughter cold.
Angela blinked, frozen for a second—did that bitch dare ask HER who she WAS?! “Everyone knows who I am, and I didn’t have to strip for them to know, unlike you.” Laughter again. Angela was relieved, though she would never admit she had been worried in the first place.
“What’s your hang-up, Goldilocks?” responded the punk, clearly not impressed “I’m just having fun. If your man is not up to snuff, that’s not my problem.”
Angela snorted contemptuously. “Jason and I are true love. We are saving ourselves for marriage. Of course, I’m not expecting a ho like you to understand that.” It was a lie of course—you don’t get to be the girlfriend of the school’s quarterback without putting out. But her relationship was a status arrangement that benefited both parties and so was keeping mum on their private activities.
“Yeah sure. We’re talking about Jason Holtz, the quarterback, right?” asked Rachel before smiling knowingly. “You know, Goldilocks, I understand you. In your place, I’d lie too—he’s such a terrible lover. No technique, no passion, and a tiny dick. You know, if you want to try a real man, I can hook you up.”
What? Angela’s brain was thinking at a hundred miles per hour. This confrontation was not going the way it was supposed t to. That bitch was lying, was she? Jason wouldn’t have, would he? Angela knew he was a dolt, but he wasn’t dumb as to risk both their social status for a piece of punk ass. Right? She was getting nervous now, but her predatory instincts soon took hold once again. Jason was a problem she would deal with later. Right now, what was important was to K.O. the skank, and quickly, before someone started to believe her. “Wow, you are really the worse liar I’ve ever seen. You think a guy like Jason would lower himself to get sloppy twenty-sixth from a piece of trash like you? By the way, since you’ve broached the subject of size, I have to ask: Do you still feel anything down there, or is your twat too stretched out by now to feel anything smaller than a telephone pole?” Laughter thundered in the hall.
Angela smiled wickedly—she was back in the saddle and ready for anything this punk could throw at her. If she was honest with herself, Angela actually liked having a challenge for once. Crushing timid nerds under her boot just wasn’t as much fun as it used to be. But this? This was very exhilarating.
Rachel pondered her answer for a moment, never losing her amused smirk. Then she spoke, with not a note of anger in her voice “You know… Angela, right? I pity you. I really do—all this desire locked up in a prison of your own making. You know, I wish you would embrace your real nature, Angel.” At this, a strange shiver went through Angela, followed by a strange heat wave, but they both disappeared as quickly has they had happened, so the blonde dismissed them.
That was it? That was the girl’s answer? Some intellectual pap about her not embracing her true nature? Not that she wasn’t right but...Wait. Where did that thought come from? Angela realized she was losing her wits, so she took a deep breath. Something was wrong. Rachel was way too calm—didn’t she realize she was getting humiliated? Was she really such a dirty slut she didn’t care about Angela’s crude insults?
Whatever the reason was, Rachel was not playing into Angela’s hand, so a tactical change was in order. Angela Chambers was proud, but she was also clever enough to realize when a honorable retreat was the best strategy. She had to fire the parting shot now and leave this engagement while she still could. “First off, nobody calls me Angel if they know what’s good for them. As you’re new, I’ll leave you with only a warning. Second, thank you, but I need neither your pity nor your wishing. I’m perfectly happy as I am, just like you are perfectly happy as you are—slutty trash. So why don’t you do like trash, and get back out on the streets?” At that Angela turned and left while the audience snorted a last laugh. It wasn’t the KO they were expecting, but it had been entertaining enough that Angela’s queenly status wasn’t in danger...yet.
As everybody started to leave the hall, nobody noticed Rachel’s green eyes briefly flash with red and her dark lips twist into an evil smile, nor did anybody hear her mutter to herself: “The bitchy ones are always my favorites.”
Angela fully intended to launch a second assault on Rachel Jones the very next day. She would never admit it, of course, not even to herself, but for the first time in her life she was afraid. Her social status was all that she had, and she could not afford lose it to some random slut, no matter how sexy she was. Wait, what?
Shaking her head, Angela dismissed the strange stray thought and tried to focus on the problem before her. She knew she had to nip this in the bud quick. Her first order of business, however, was to find Jason and figure out if the slut’s allegations were true. Luckily, Angela knew where to find him at this hour—he would be hanging out with his teammate on the field. She strutted outside the school and headed toward the field. She took the longer way around instead of cutting through the courtyard to minimize the number of eyes on her. Angela seldom went anywhere in the school without a couple members of her cheer squad as backup, but for obvious reason she had to leave them behind this time. The less eyes on her walking alone, then, the better.
When she approached Jason, he was talking with his friend Ray. She made her presence known but waited for Jason to finish his conversation and join her. She hated waiting after that moron, but it would not do to appear too unnerved. As she patiently waited, Angela couldn’t help but think that Ray might have made a better boyfriend. He was as well-built as Jason, if not more, and had a nicer smile. He was taller and a smarter too. But Ray wasn’t rich, wasn’t the quarterback, and was visibly Latino. Now Angela herself did not mind that last bit, but her parents and their social circle would, so he was out. But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered why she didn’t at least try him on for size. He had to be more fun and more creative in bed than Jason, right? She wouldn’t be the first pampered housewife to cheat without consequences—her own mother had had two lovers that she knew of at various point in time. Angela had never felt to desire to sleep with anyone other than Jason before, but she had never felt the desire to sleep with Jason much either. Still, sex was supposed to be a blast, right? Well, with Jason, the only blast that ever happened was the sound of his farts while he was thrusting into her with all the strength of an unplugged jackhammer. A small jackhammer at that. Maybe if she changed partner…
Wait, the hell was she thinking? Was she starting to agree with this trashy slut? She could not accept that. She clearly needed to take a long cold shower tonight to clear her mind. No, two, just to be sure. Luckily for her, Jason said goodbye to Ray and joined her at that moment, cutting her bizarre reverie short.
“Hey babe, what a surprise to see you this morning. Missed me?” Jason said with his imbecilic smile and leaned in to kiss her. She recoiled and met his confused gaze with a stone-cold glare. “What’s the trouble babe? You seem pissed?”
“Nice observation there, Captain Obvious. As it happens, I am pissed. I decided to confront Miss Punk Goth Trash this morning and there she is, saying she fucked my own boyfriend in front of nearly the whole school. Please Jason, please tell me you were not dumb enough to get your dick wet in that puddle,” Angela said with a calm but firm tone that brook no discussion.
“Well, huh…” hesitated a heavily-sweating Jason. When he pulled on his collar, Angela felt the bottom of her stomach fall and her blood boil. The idiot! “I mean, you were gone for most of last week on that cheer trip of yours, and she was right there after a practice and asked if I wanted to have a beer at Chino’s”—Chino’s was the closest bar to campus, and regularly served underage drinkers—“so I said yes, and one thing led to another, and we ended up in the men’s room. Girl, that chick is crazy” said Jason, clearly enjoying the memory. Until his eyes fell once more on the volcano that was Angela. “I mean, crazy in a bad way, you know? You are a much better lay, you know? She did give amazing head though, but I’m sure you’d beat her if you tried it too…”
“Shut up you moron, shut the fuck up” screamed Angela as loudly as she dared to while in a public place. Not that Jason noticed the volume of her voice. He was too stunned by her swearing. Angela never swore, even in private, and certainly did not drop f-bombs. She must have been really angry and that scared him, so he did as he was told and shut up. Angela breathed deeply in and out for a few seconds. Once she felt in control again, her tone was cold and clinical. “Okay. You screwed up big time there, Jason. I am very disappointed in you. We had an agreement, you and I, did we not?”
Jason nodded weakly. “So what, you want to break up?” he said, visibly cowed.
“I do,” responded Angela, “but we both know this would be a catastrophe for both our reputation, no to mention that of our respective family. No, we keep being together, but you can say goodbye to our date this week-end. I’ll be busy. As for that sexy bitch, it’s her word against mine, and her word is worthless in this school. As long, of course, as you were not dumb enough to boast about your little tryst to your pals,” she asked condescendingly.
“Of course not, babe. I’m not an idiot,” responded Jason, only to see Angela raise one of her perfectly drawn eyebrow. “And I was too worried you’d find out” he added.
“Now that, I believe,” responded Angela. “Fine then, we forget this and act as if nothing has happened. Now kiss me goodbye and do not put any tongue in it or I’ll bite it off.” Angela was not opposed to some good making-out—not that any making out with Jason was ever that good—but she was really not in the mood that day. She and Jason exchanged a chaste peck on the lips and Angela went back to the school. The rest of day was uneventful, but Angela was nonetheless on edge all day. She went to bed early that night and fell asleep while plotting her next move.