"You're pretty good
at this," Andy said, leaning over the sink in the girl's
"Yeah, well, I've
had a lot of practice," Alison replied, cupping her hands under
the faucet. She gently poured the water over his head.
that," he said, glad she couldn't see his embarrassed face. "I
should have never done it to you."
"It's okay," she
said, reaching for more water. "It takes a special kind of person
to take a soda to the face every day, and I consider myself one
of the few," she added with a cynical laugh. "At least you have
short hair. Much easier to rinse out."
"It's really not
okay, Alison," he said, standing up to his full height. "No one
deserves this. I never thought I'd get hit. But now that I have,
I realize how truly shitty it is to do to someone. I just wanted
you to know I really am sorry."
Alison. Andy Jackson was certainly not the type of guy who would
ever apologize for throwing a soda in anyone's face. Especially
not a slightly annoying, slightly lame, overly ambitious girl
Maybe he really
is sorry, she thought. Maybe now we'll start dating and
elope to Hawaii and live happily ever after. The logical part
of her protested, and maybe pigs will fly. He's just
bullshitting you because you helped him wash his hair.
She didn't care
about his motives; she just wanted to enjoy the fact that he was
actually talking to her.
"It's okay," she
repeated, pushing him back over the sink gently. "I'm not done
yet." He bent back down willingly. "So," she said casually,
running the water over his close cropped head, "why did you get a
soda thrown on you? You're like the coolest guy here."
Does she really
think I'm cool? he thought, surprisingly happy at the casual
compliment. "Um…," he said hesitantly, not wanting her to know
the real reason. She would definitely think less of him if she
"Come on," she
cajoled, then immediately cursed her pushy personality. He
doesn't want to talk about it, she snapped at herself.
Leave him alone. But her curious side won and she
persisted. "I've been washing a grape soda off you hair for like
ten minutes. You owe me."
"Fair enough," he
replied with a sigh. "I slept with Marshall's girlfriend."
The constant stream
of warm water she had been washing over him suddenly stopped as
she took a step back. He turned around to face her."Marshall
Davis?" she asked incredulously. "Quarterback and all around
badass Davis? I thought you guys were like best friends."
"We are," he said
wishing he hadn't told her. "Or, we were. But me and Anna were
both pretty drunk, and it just happened."
She looked shocked
still. "Who hit you?"
"You guys are on
the football team together. I thought you guys were "bros" or
whatever you call each other."
"We were bros. But
you don't just sleep with a bro's ho and expect to be tight," he
Alison tried to
digest this but failed. "Lean over, I'm almost done," she
instructed in a desperate attempt to change the subject. He
obliged and she rinsed in silence.
The silence was
broken when the door opened and a girl came in. She stopped at
the sight of Andy. "No boys allowed," she said, narrowing her
"I'm just washing
his hair," Alison offered. "It's okay."
"No, he's not
allowed to be in here!" the girl persisted. "I gotta pee,
so he needs to leave."
"Why can't you just
go?" Alison snapped back, getting annoyed. "There are doors, it's
no big deal."
"I'm reporting you
to the principal, you perv," the girl threw at him.
Andy, who had
remained silent through the ordeal, stood up to his full height
of 6'2 and put on his best intimidating face, the one he used
with nerds and geeks. "I just got splashed with a grape soda. I
have it everywhere, and that includes my underwear. There is corn
syrup burning my eyes, and I am not in the mood to deal
with this. Pee or leave."
The girl's eyes
widened and she spun on her heel and left without another word.
Alison stared at Andy taken aback.
"I'm going to go,"
he said, shifting uncomfortably. "Thanks for helping me even
though I don't deserve it." With that, he grabbed his backpack,
shook his wet hair and left.
said her logical side. He was just being nice so you would
Her wistful side
had no choice but to agree.
Andy Jackson was
back on top. It took a week of being hated but he was back in the
saddle after it had come to light that Anna had not only slept
with Andy but half of the defensive line as well.
"Dude, she's like a
succubus or something," Marshall had said to him shortly after
dumping Anna. "It totally wasn't your fault. We cool?"
And it was good to
be back. He didn't have to walk down the halls in fear of being
slushed. He was doing the slushing now. It didn't feel as
satisfying now that he had experienced it, but it was either
throw the soda or be denounced as a pussy by the guys.
The sodas from the
student store were perfect for throwing. They were just sticky
and wet enough to cause discomfort but still cheap enough (25
cents) to buy in mass quantities. Of course the administration
had tried to stop the act, but it was impossible to pinpoint one
perpetrator and the sodas were a major money maker for the
school. So it continued.
The look on a kid's
face before being slushed (anxious, horrified) was nothing
compared to their face after being slushed (angry, scared,
upset). It gave Andy and his guys a major power charge. As right
hand man and running back to THE Marshall Davis, Andy had the
rare privilege of controlling a group of power hungry beefy
muscular guys. It was just exhilarating.
Monday after the
Anna scandal, Andy was walking to trig. He was ten minutes late,
as was his custom. He liked to see how far he could push teachers
with his world famous excuses. Nine time out of ten, he got his
He was preparing
his latest excuse. Oh, Mrs. Brennan, I was walking by the pond
outside and I saw someone drowning! Naturally I was able to save
them and still come to class. Please don't count me late. It
was a zinger of an excuse, one of his more risky ones. He had
practiced in the mirror late last night, trying to perfect a
modest tone. He knew the teacher wouldn't believe him; that was
the point. The point was to sway them into believing.
As he was muttering
it under his breath he heard a loudly whispered, expletive "FUCK
THIS." Curious, Andy followed the stomping feet and the hushed
tears until he found the source.
A dripping wet girl
with mascara running down her face, her tears mixing with an
unmistakable grape soda, sat at the base of a locker. She ran a
hand over her face to try and wipe some of the soda off to no
avail. It was partially dry and very very sticky. Her head
was bent as she desperately tried not to cry.
At the sound of
Andy's footsteps she looked up at him and Andy stared in shock.
"Go away," she said
as meanly as she could when she recognized him. "I have nothing
to say to you."
"Let me help you,"
he said, offering his hand.
"You can't throw a
soda in my face then offer to help!" she said, pushing his hand
"But I didn't throw
this soda in your face."
"You've done it
before, and you do it every day to someone!" she bit her
lip angrily. "What's the difference? You're just the same as the
guy who threw this! You'll probably laugh about it later! 'Yeah,
man I totally slushed that freak chick! It was awesome'!"
"Who did it?" he
asked quietly. What she said was true. What difference did it
make who it was?
"I'll talk to him
about it," he said, knowing he probably wouldn't.
As if she had read
his mind she said, "No you won't. You're just saying
subject he said, "Please, Alison. Let me help you. It's the least
I can do." He extended his hand and tried to look
With a moment's
hesitation, she took it.
found herself in the boy's bathroom. "We should go to the girls,"
With a grin he
said, "No way. I went in the girls, you get to go in the
She didn't put up a
fight, just looked at the urinals wearily.
He turned on the
water and waited for it to get warm. When it was good and ready,
he said "lean over." When she did, her skirt came up just a bit.
Andy stopped for a moment to enjoy the view until Alison told him
to stop looking at her butt.
Her hair was
tangled with clumps of dried grape soda. He had never realized
how long it was. He tried to untangle the hair with his fingers,
but every touch made Alison wince. "Can I use hand soap on your
Alison looked up at
him. "I guess."
He took a drop and
rubbed it in his hands. He spread it through her hair, massaging
her head. He poured water over it, then applied more soap. "I am
so sorry about this." It seemed like every time he was around her
he ended up apologizing.
"I'd like to say
its okay. But it's not," she said, still angry.
"I know. It's not
okay at all."
"What gives you the
right to throw things at me? You're not much better than me. Do
you ever stop to think about what you're doing? Just because
people don't fucking hate you doesn't make you
He let her vent as
he rinsed her hair. "No one hates you."
She snorted a laugh
without any humor behind it. "Are you kidding me? No one likes
me. I'm annoying."
"You've just got
a….strong personality. I don't think you're annoying," he
replied, combing her hair with his fingers.
"Really?" she said
briskly standing up and ringing her wet hair out. "Freshman year
you told me I had a face like a horse's ass. Sophomore year you
told me to stab myself repeatedly. Last month you said I made you
want to shoot yourself just to get away from me. Any of that ring
"I didn't mean any
of that," he said, suddenly ashamed of himself. "It was before I
knew you. I was just being a douchebag."
She wiped her face
with a scratchy paper towel and dabbed at the stains on her
skirt. "Yeah, you were," she said, pulling out her mascara
reapplying it. "I don't think you've changed at all."
"Please let me make
it up to you."
"I helped you, you
helped me. We're even. There's nothing you can do." With that,
she grabbed her bag, and swiftly left leaving Andy staring after