Freaks of Greenfield High

Freaks of Greenfield High (Chapter 2)

Freaks of Greenfield High

By Maree Anderson

Chapter Two

Ten minutes into first period Bio, Tyler wished he were someplace else. Like, anywhere but here. Bad enough he was shortly gonna have to dissect a frog, first he had to sit through the gory diagrams and graphic explanations. He tried not to think about what had happened when he'd dissected the cow's eye. If he didn't hold it together this time, his life wouldn't be worth living.

A rap on the door ended Mr. Gilbert's lecture.

Tyler heaved a ragged sigh of relief and slumped across the desktop, burying his nose in the crook of his arm.

Kermit stank. The odor coated Tyler's throat like rancid cream. He closed his eyes, wishing for a lab partner he could bribe into doing the dissection. But after the last episode, and given his current status, kids were hardly beating a path to the empty stool beside him.

Not that he blamed them.

At the adjacent table someone giggled.

Tyler pried open his eyelids and spied his sister's hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend nudging his lab-partner... who just happened to be cheer captain, and obviously watched far too much TV because she slavishly imitated the whole cheer-captain-who-ruled-the-school stereotype.

Shawn and Bettina. Now there was a match made in heaven. Or hell. Take your pick. If there wasn't such a major ick-factor about stepbrothers-and-sisters hooking up, they would have been perfect for each other.

Bettina giggled again, whispered something back to Shawn, and then fished a gold compact from her pocket. She flicked it open and gave a breathy gasp.

Was it too much to hope for a nice juicy zit to mar that perfect complexion?

Apparently so. For Bettina didn't shriek and have a tantrum, she merely reapplied gloss to her already shiny lips, primped her hair and smooched her reflection.

She was one of those inhuman creatures who never got zits. And the gasp was probably because she'd found a hair out of place.

Next, she pulled out a perfume atomizer and sprayed it over her frog.

Huh. Tyler wished he'd thought of that. Then again, spraying his mother's perfume around a classroom would hardly enhance his already dubious reputation.

Bettina caught him watching her. She curled her lip into a somehow still-attractive sneer. Took real talent to pull that off.

"What're you staring at?" she said.

"Just comparing you to this highly fascinating, unidentified stain on my desk," he said.

She hissed like a pampered cat denied a cushion. "Shut up, freak!"

"Yeah," Shawn said. "Shut up, freak."

"Wow. Original. Color me impressed." If Shawn ever did have an original thought, his poor underused brain cells would probably go postal.

Tyler pretended to let his eyelids drift closed and watched them, alert for the particular vibe they gave out when they were planning something heinous. Not that Bettina would ruin her manicure by doing the dirty work herself. She'd simply co-opt her peeps to do it for her.

B might not be that snappy on the verbals, but when it came to masterminding public humiliation? Legend. As numerous Greenfield High students who'd done something to piss her or Shawn off had learned to their cost. Tyler had been on the receiving end of an upended paint tray, had soda poured in his lap, and his chair "accidentally" whipped away just as he was about to plant his butt— "Oops! Didn't see you there. Sooo sorry."