Coed Witchery 101 - Chapter 1

I stood, feeling just a little apprehension as I walked toward the stage in my white robe and tassled mortarboard hat. I heard a few snickers behind me, but that’s ok. They could laugh at me all they wanted. I was about to get the hell out of this school, this town, this life. While the jocks and cheerleaders were waking up to the reality that being cool in high school gets you jack shit in the real world, I would be going to one of the most prestigious Universities on the East Coast, Greenesville State University. While some of those cheerleaders got pregnant and married someone they couldn’t really stand, I would be meeting people from other states, other countries, the greatest minds on earth.

I’m Emma Dawes. Pretty normal name, eh? Simple southern girl type of name. You can probably picture me just from my name: dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a little pudgy from my mom’s Southern-fried-with-love cooking, wearing Daisy Dukes and a too-tight button-up shirt and just aching for a cowboy hat.

Wrong. Most days I wear dark jeans, a black top accented with red or white, bracelets and rings on each hand, pink highlights surrounded by black streaks in my blonde hair, and a nose ring. I’m also on the skinny side, since I never eat fried food and go running to burn off steam when mom and dad start fighting, which happens a lot. Not your typical southern girl from a small town. You can see now why I was getting some snickers as I walked up. I was not well-liked in high school.

The few friends I had were social anomalies themselves, some because of their taste in music, some from smoking and selling too much weed, and some of the girls because they got labeled as slutty. I fell into that category, even though I had only slept with one guy. It doesn’t matter to those catty, bitchy types, you steal one boyfriend from any of them and suddenly you’ve apparently screwed around with every guy in school.

I digress.

At the podium, hastily erected each year in our small gymnasium, the principal stood congratulating each graduate as they took their diploma and shook his hand. Today I had made myself presentable in the eyes of my parents, no nose ring, tried to hide the colored streaks under the rest of my blonde hair, and I was even wearing a dress under my graduation gown. It was a light shade of pink with a barely noticeable flowered pattern, spaghetti straps holding it up, and some respectable cleavage out in front thanks to a generously padded bra. Not my normal style, but I pulled it off, not that anyone could see it. As my name was called and I stepped up to the podium, someone in the crowd of students yelled “Skank!” I didn’t care.

I got my diploma, walked back offstage, sat down in my chair, and waited for the forty or so other students to get called up. My high school was small… we only graduated 56 seniors this year. On a good year, they might get 70 or so, but no more than that. That’s the thing about growing up in rural Kentucky… not a lot of people around, and many less who would go away to college. The guidance counselor, who I knew pretty well by now since teachers always thought I looked depressed, told me that only 14 of the graduating seniors would be going to a University. Tons more would be going to the community college down the street, some would just be going into farming or truck driving. That’s the type of town I lived in. I couldn’t wait to get out.

After the graduation ceremony, my parents found me, congratulated me as they beamed with pride, and made me the center of about three hundred pictures with every conceivable relative we had. That was fine by me. Let them fawn over me now, they deserve some quality time before I leave. My parents were alright, nothing special. My dad drinks a lot, sometimes drives home from a bar, sometimes gets thrown in the local jail for a night because of it. My mom is quiet, reserved, and everything a southern belle of a wife should be, which makes me sick. I hoped that they’d eventually get a divorce because I think away from each other they’d both be happier. Oh well, they can work that out while I’m away at college.

As we were walking out of the gym, I pulled off my gown, showing the school for the first and only time what I looked like in a dress. I heard a few catcalls from off to my left, and looked over. As expected, it was Pete Donnely and his idiot, linebacker friends. Pete was never your typical football player. He’s smart, funny, and actually cares about people. Also has a washboard stomach and loves to please a girl in bed. However, when he was with his buddies, like any other jock, he would just go along with whatever they said. I told my mom to ignore them, that I’d be out to the car in a minute after I found my friends to say adios. My dad was probably too drunk to hear them, because he kept walking. He’d been drinking from his flask during the whole ceremony. Once they had walked out the door, I turned away from the football bozos, making sure to shake my ass just a little so Pete could see what he was missing since he went back to his goody-two-shoes cheerleader, and went off to find Tom.

Tom Downing was your typical stoner, and my best friend. He supplied half the school, and always offered to me, but I had a strict policy about drugs. Alcohol, totally cool. Speed sometimes when cramming for a test. But nothing I had to inhale or inject. Just my choice, and I would never judge anyone else for their choices to the contrary. Anyway, I found Tom in one of the hallways, making a discrete deal with a fellow stoner named Jake something. Tom had his earbuds hanging from his neck, blasting 311 or some other stoner band, and was just wrapping up the deal when he saw me, gave me a “what’s up” type of nod, and walked over to me.

“Hey kid, what’s up?” His normal greeting. Tom was wearing his graduation gown, of course, but I knew underneath he had on a tie-dyed t-shirt and jeans. I could see his old Vans sneakers under the gown while he walked. His hair was curly and black as night, a testament to his Mexican heritage. He wore it in a loose ponytail behind his head, and had a peace sign tattooed in a shaved patch behind his left ear, where he could hide it for college interviews with his voluminous hair.

“Not a lot, just wanted to come see you before I head out. I don’t know how much I’ll be hanging out for the next week before I hop a bus to NC.”

“Wow, no shit. You’re really leaving all this majesty in the dust?” He spread his hands and slowly twirled, taking in the drab scenery. “You’re really missin’ out babe.”

“I’m sure. What are your plans once I’m gone?”

“Get laid a lot over at State. You’re a major cockblock, ya know.” He winked at me, because we both knew that wasn’t true. Tom got more ass than some of the jocks, thanks to his smooth talk and the bags of weed he’d give to girls after a night of sex. He didn’t exactly buy his way into girls’ pants, but he came damn close. I hoped he’d clean his act up just a little bit over in Kentucky state, just enough to keep him from getting kicked out. I loved the kid the way he was, but you get caught one time dealing and you’re out.

“I’m gonna miss you, Tom. You know, until I find some other stoner to tell me how much weed will change my life.”

“Oh, I’m sure at college you’ll experiment with all sorts of stuff, girl. You give me a call when you’re tripping on acid and watching Sesame Street and tell me it’s not the best time of your life.”

“I’m sure it will be.” I gave him a hug, then headed outside to meet my parents.

As I got to the door, Pete and his buddies appeared from around the corner.

“Emma! Hold up a second,” Pete said.

I decided to give him five seconds, since he’d never see me again.

“Hey, I just wanted you to know…” he looked down at his shoes for a long second.

“That you’re the biggest skank he’s ever laid eyes on.” That was Johnny Betts. What a dick. Johnny was your typical rich jock. His parents practically own the county, and he could always get away with anything just by mentioning his daddy’s name. His long, pointed hawk’s nose was always turned up, and his hair was blonde and long for a guy, making him look a little bit gay. He made up for that by treating women like shit. Pete gave him a stern look but didn’t stand up for me. He never did.

“I wanted to say your dress looks nice. You should dress like that more often,” Pete said.

“Oh, so if I dressed more like Barbie over there you wouldn’t have given that picture of me to your buddies to spread all over the school?” Jenni Franco, Pete’s current love interest, had just walked out of the gym, looking every bit as shallow as she’d proven herself to be hundreds of times. The picture, of course, had been one that Pete had taken with his phone of me topless after we had a really good night of sex. He told me he would delete it as soon as he transferred it to his computer, so he’d have something to keep him going at night. Of course he’d lied, and sent it to Johnny, who had consequently spread it around the whole school. We girls really can be stupid when it comes to a hot guy. “Eat shit, Pete. Good luck in college next year.”

I walked away, Pete stammering and his idiot friends calling after me with many choice names. Then Johnny said the one word that I just couldn’t walk away from. Starts with a “c”, rhymes with “front”. I whirled around, ready to tell him off again. If I had been in his shoes, I probably would’ve run, because I know I looked dangerous, even in a dress and high heels.

In that instant, the gym door slammed in his face. Hard. It looked like his nose may’ve broken. “Serves you right, douchebag,” I said. Then I noticed that the door had been tied back with rope. And the rope looked like it had been torn apart. Weird. I turned around again and walked to my parents’ car. As we were turning up my street a few minutes later, an ambulance drove straight by us, lights flashing, back toward the school. I hoped he wasn’t dead and all, but to tell you the truth, the world would’ve been a better place without him.