More Random Writing

So once again I got the whole "random story in my head" thing again and I wrote it down. It's nice to be able to put these thoughts somewhere, even though they don't make any sense. I should do this more often--it gives my blog real content. Anyway, here's what I wrote today:

So I tried to sneak into the house after school today, because I totally didn't want to run into Jenny. She is such a pain in the butt, especially since she moved in. I guess that's what you do when you're "in love with" a person these days, but couldn't my dad and Jenny have gotten married first? That would've given some type of warning and a little preparation time. But instead, I just came home from school a couple weeks ago and BAM! Jenny was sitting on my sofa reading my magazines and using my throw pillows to rest her feet. The little monster is trying to move in on me--pretty soon I'll probably find her sleeping in my bed, listening to my music, and wearing my old clothes. And, yes, she can fit my old clothes—she never shuts up about how I'm so much fatter than her. But how hard is it to be a couple sizes larger than an anorexic 24-year-old who never eats?

Anyway, my efforts to avoid Jenny were foiled when I dropped my backpack while slinking up the stairs. I cringed and squeezed my eyes shut, praying that Jenny hadn’t heard me, but sure enough I heard her light little feet come padding in my direction. So much for small mercies.

“Karrrrren!” Jenny squealed, rolling the “R” in my name like she always does, as if she were Mexican, which, of course, she isn’t. “Ohmigosh, I am like sooooo happy to see you!” She scurried up the stairs and threw her arms around me in a fake girly hug. I rolled my eyes and kept my arms straight and stiff, refusing to hug her back. Finally she stepped away and just stood in front of me, grinning and rubbing her hands together. I got tired of the awkward silence and said “Um…was there something you needed or…?” Jenny smacked her hands together and giggled. “Of course, yeah, I do need your help with something!” Without bothering to simply explain like a normal civilized human being, which I never thought Jenny was anyway, she reached forward, grabbed my hand, and yanked me toward the dining room. For such a skinny thing, Jenny really has a tight grip, and she almost broke my wrist dragging me down the stairs like that.

When we reached the dining room, Jenny threw my hand back down at my side as if it were poisonous and picked up a stack of brochures. She was shifting them around so much that I couldn’t read any of the titles and figure out what she was trying to do. “What is this, Jenny?” I demanded. She did a weird giggle, like an insane five-year-old or something, and squealed, “College!” She handed me a brochure, and sure enough it read “The Illinois Institute of Art—now offering fashion design classes!” I stared at Jenny in open shock. She nodded excitedly, still with the stupid grin. “That’s right! I could get my degree in Fashion Design Bachelor of Fine Arts!” Now my mouth fell open. Jenny knew what a degree was? She was planning to get one in fine arts? She wanted to go to a real college? Looked like Jenny went on a shopping trip and bought a brain—or at least rented one.

While I was trying to process this information, Jenny was still babbling, but this time her babble included big words and made sense. “Or I could go to the School of the Art Institute—did you know it ranked number 14 on the list of top 20 fashion schools in America? I could totally get major cred for going there!” Jenny hugged the brochures to her chest and looked wistfully into the distance, and for once I saw her as a human—a human with dreams, a human who thought those dreams could be reached by starving herself and having fake friends and dating a rich guy who was twenty years her senior. And, for the first time in forever, I felt a small tinge of pity for this skinny, dreaming woman in front of me.