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Bucket of Lies

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Patrick — ultimately, the most popular, most talked about, undeniably handsome, spiky pale blonde haired, Axe-smelled 6 foot tall, star and team captain of the school’s basketball team. Of course, boys and girls, gays and tomboys, and everyone in between loved him so much they would do anything to steal away that disposable white towel he uses to wipe off the stream of sweat off of his porcelain-like face even though some people who were not really die-hard Patrick fans, like me, thought that it was too weird. He was a Taekwondo black belter, excels in academics, overflowing with charisma, a remarkable leader and follower, unbelievably talented, and gets a hold off every good stuff that you can imagine. He was every girl’s dream boy and only were lucky enough to get that dream come true before they graduate, move to college, and never see that guy-whose-teeth-sparkles-whenever-he-smiles. Of all the days that I watched him from the sidelines, there was never a day that he was not surrounded by less than twenty people. He was that popular. He was like the brightest actor in our little high school “hollywood”- surrounded by paparazzi or some other people who have nothing else to do but tag along and simply blend in.

I was one of those girls whose dream of going out with him came true. He treated me like a princess, and said those cheesy words in front of everyone just to let you feel that he was serious about you, until he gets bored and simply throw you away like garbage. He dumped me, humiliated me, and left me crying in front of everyone he hangs out with, laughing, gossiping, and spreading the news that he was single again. And ever since that day, I hated him and promised myself I would get revenge.

It was late Friday afternoon and everyone else were on their way home and as I was storing away some books in my locker, from the corner of my eye, I saw mr. popular guy coming out of one of the classrooms, with both hands tucked in in both his pants’ back pockets, as usual, heading out to the parking lot to get his “baby”. Surprisingly, he was alone. He’s usually in the middle of the crowd, almost squeezed to death like sardines packed in a can. I wondered what happened, I didn’t see his face and so I have no idea what kind of expression was painted on his face. Since this could be my once in a lifetime chance, I decided to stalk him.

My feet suddenly stopped walking when I saw a fat old geezer leaning on an old rusty beat up farm truck just outside the school, looking at us or more like, at Patrick. I saw his shoulders drop when he turned to the old man’s direction. They both even look like they knew each other very well, and I wondered where in the world Patrick met the baldy man with reddened cheeks like Santa Claus and a gigantic garlic shaped nose. I stood quietly near the entrance door, just like an idiot, and watched them silently. I just hoped that they don’t see me standing behind the shadows, eavesdropping.

“I told you not to come here…” Patrick sighed and walked towards the man.

The fat man spread his arms wide like a starfish and gave my schoolmate a huge bear hug, “Whatsa matter? I’m just’ere to visit ma son!”

Questions filled my head like fuel filling up a gas tank. For what I know, for what everyone knows, Patrick’s dad never got down and dirty, so he can’t possibly be wearing something that has been handed down by generations and never been washed ever since it was bought. His father was a high profile man, working in a very successful company abroad- which came straight out from his mouthwashed every hour mouth. So who exactly was this old man calling him ‘son’?

They continued talking at the distance, but I was not able to hear their conversation. After a few more minutes, the old man went back inside his truck, while scratching his big stomach, and drove away. Patrick remained standing still on the same spot until the truck disappeared from our sight and when he started looking around, maybe wondering if someone saw them, I hid quickly.

I might have seen and heard something I shouldn’t have, but I was eager to know what exactly was Patrick McDaugh hiding- and probably humiliate him just like how he humiliated me.

After that unexpected sighting, I stalked him more and more and to my surprise, I found out more about that guy who’s actually hiding a lot of things from everyone. Unfortunately for him, I, Rianne, already knows almost everything about his dirty little secrets he was trying so hard to hide. I wanted to tell everyone about it- that the “dad” that he loved to brag about was actually his uncle and that his real dad was actually that big, fat old man with the muddy farm truck; that his “baby”- the shiny red, top-down vintage car he said his “dad” bought for him was actually rented from a far away town; that he used to go to the faculty room after exams to change his incorrect answers; there were a lot more, but the worst of all, that almost his entire life was all but lies and I can’t believe everyone did not even notice. The oh-so popular guy whom they admire like a god was actually a geek with big, round reading glasses who spends his time looking at pictures of guys in a men’s magazine. He fooled everyone. What a big jerk.

My mind was debating whether or not I should reveal the guy’s secrets. My evil side wants me so, but the good side fights back. He made fun of me, and so I thought he should feel the humiliation I felt back then. If I don’t speak up now, I don’t know how many more people would be a victim of that big liar. He has to stop.

The next day at school, I gathered up every ounce of energy I have, pushed open the doors, knowing that mr. popular guy would be somewhere at the corner, and watched him as he continued to lie. The same day, I revealed everything.

Patrick— ultimately, he was still the most popular, most talked about, undeniably handsome, spiky pale blonde haired, Axe-smelled 6 foot tall drop-out guy in school. Boys and girls, gays and tomboys, and everyone in between hated him so much that they would do anything to steal away that disposable towel and put mustard in it before he could use it to wipe away the stream of sweat off of his face after working so hard in cleaning the school’s floor. He was still the brightest actor in out high school “Hollywood”- surrounded by paparazzi and gossipers who wanted to spread more rumors about this shameless guy. He was every girl’s nightmare now and deep down, he knows he deserves it.





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gymbabe This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 24, 2010 at 8:48 pm

This was fabulous, love the sort of "repeated" ending and beginning, and how you changed it.  Very well-written, great job.  Keep writing!

Btw, will you check out and comment on my work?

 
InkFeather replied...
Jun. 25, 2010 at 6:50 pm
Thank you! I'll go and check your stories now. :)
 
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