Orange Juice Irony

November 2, 2011
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She walked into the high school cafeteria room carrying herself with the upmost confidence. Her long blonde hair bounced in perfect curls around her face and her skirt flowed back and forth until she came to a halt. She glanced around in search for a seat that was to her liking. As her icy blue eyes found the table she was looking for, her pace quickened. She approached the table.
“That’s my seat,” The girl scoffed, expressing her irritation with a harsh glance. Alone at the table sat a small, frail looking junior. She glanced up as if to say, ‘You mean me?’ but the words were caught in her throat. She said nothing. Her top lip trembled some, as it stuck out because of her braces, and her seemingly dirty hair was cut into an uneven bob around her head. In front of her pale green eyes she wore thick, wire framed glasses that periodically slipped down to the end of her nose. At this time she pushed them back up with a single swoop of her finger. The blonde spoke again.
“I said move, loser!” The words broke the silence like a stone to glass. Still, the one sitting did not move. Getting irritated even further, the blonde set her lunch tray down and put her hands on her hips.
“You. The one with the braces. I’m gonna say it one more time. Get out. Of my seat. Now.” She tapped her foot on the white linoleum floor impatiently. The girl sitting down carefully picked up her fork and pushed a few peas around her plate. The blonde let out a heavy sigh.
“Unbelievable” She said through pursed lips, which were tinted a perfect shade of red. She quickly grabbed her tray and scurried behind the table. But after a second she stopped. And backed up a few steps. An evil grin spread across her face. She plucked her already opened carton of orange juice from the lunch tray. And then, in a single movement, she emptied it all down the back of her victim’s sweater. A gasp escaped her lips as she practically jumped out of the seat. Pure horror was stricken across her face as the cold liquid soaked into the sweater. The blonde tilted her head back in a way that made the curls on her head bounce gently. She laughed mercilessly as they danced around her shoulders. Suddenly heads from surrounding tables began to turn in their direction. And suddenly hundred of eyes were all fixed on her and her wet sweater. Smiles and snickers followed. Pointing, laughing, talking, giggling. The sounds echoed off her brain and encompassed her mind. Tears streamed down her face and she got up quickly, wet sticky juice dripping from her back. Embarrassed and destroyed, she tore out of the cafeteria, leaving the blonde and her gathering friends to their favorite spot. The seemingly harmless act was forgotten as quickly as it had happened.

Now almost 20 years later these were the thoughts running through 30 year old Rachel McAdams head as she sat down for the biggest interview of her life. The woman positioned across from her had beautiful red hair that rested on her shoulders. Her skin glowed radiantly, and her teeth were perfectly aligned. But it was the eyes that Rachel remembered. A twinkling, pale green, now unshaded by any cloud of bulky glasses. This was the girl from the lunch room. The one she had humiliated in front of the whole cafeteria. This girl who she had met so many years before, someone she perceived to be dumb… and ugly, she was now the head of the biggest company Rachel had ever worked for, she was beautiful, she was in charge, and Rachel’s future was in her hands. Suddenly she felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment and her palms began to sweat. She frantically searched for a spot of emotion on the woman’s face- some hint that she had recognized her too. But there was none. She simply smiled and shook Rachel’s hand. “My name is Kayla. I will be interviewing you today.” She said, as if reading from a script. Rachel sat down and gripped the side of the chair nervously until her knuckles turned white. Kayla smiled again down at Rachel. “Can I offer you any tea… coffee… orange juice, perhaps?” Those last few syllables lingered in the air for what seemed like an eternity. Finally the answer came. “Erm… no thank you” Rachel managed to reply unsteadily. “Oh and Rachel?” Kayla asked quietly, while shuffling some papers in her hand. “Yes?” Rachel squeaked.
Kayla looked up with a gentle smile and pointed to the seat. “That’s my chair you’re sitting in.”

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