Making A Scene
1901 Words
Sixteen year old Scott sat in the driver's seat of a used sports car. The cramped and beat up vehicle fit its teenage owner perfectly.
Young Scott checked his hair in the rear-view mirror. The (overabundance of) gel had done its job – not a strand was out of place. He pulled on the collar of his Northbridge High School letterman jacket with his name embroidered on the front.
Sixteen year old Sarah Wilkens sat in the passenger seat. She nervously twirled a strand of her hideously teased brown hair between her pudgy fingers. Sadly, she looked pretty much exactly the way her cruel classmates described her.
The DJ announced over the car radio in that usual hyper-DJ voice, "That was Madonna on 89.9 FM with her classic hit Express Yourself. We're half an hour away from saying goodbye to 2002! Stay tuned for your chance to win WCON's grand prize in our New Year's Eve giveaway!"
Sarah hit the button and turned the radio off. "Thanks for leaving the party early and coming to pick me up."
Scott smiled. "What kind of friend would I be if I couldn't do a favor for you when you needed it?"
"Your other friends, they must have questioned why you would leave a party early for me."
"Whatever," he dismissed.
Sarah turned away from him. She looked out the passenger side window where she could see Scott's handsome reflection, but not have to face him directly.
"I've been practicing this for two weeks and now it's not, I mean the words aren't going to come out right because-"
Scott waited, but Sarah had just stopped cold in mid-sentence. "What is it?" he asked gently turning her face back towards him.
Sarah adjusted her ugly glasses which slid down her nose. Her worried, wide-eyed expression looked almost comical thanks to the effect of the thick glasses.
She could hardly breathe. "I've felt this way, for like, forever." She looked Scott directly in the face for the first time. She hoped she wouldn't have to say it. "You know..." she prompted through slightly gritted teeth, suddenly hoping the interior light from the car didn't reflect off her braces.
A clueless Scott waited for her to finish the thought. Finally, he admitted, "I don't get it."
Sarah tried to take a deep breath and speak calmly. She failed. Instead, she blurted out, "Scott, I always have been and always will be – in love with you!"
* * *
A shiny, late-model limousine cruised down the same rural road that Scott and Pauline walked along. As the limo rounded a bend, the driver swerved to avoid the young couple.
The vehicle's jerking motion jostled Regina Hapsburg, the twenty year old heiress riding in the back. She dropped her fashion magazine. Her book bag fell over, scattering her textbooks.
Regina looked out the back window. "Please stop the limo so we can help that couple walking. He's limping and they're miles away from anything. Something must be wrong," she said to the driver through the already-open partition.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. "Miss Hapsburg," he began.
"Will you stop that? You've worked for my family since before I was born. When I was a little girl, it made me feel all grown up when you called me Miss Hapsburg. Now that I'm actually grown up, it feels silly. I keep telling you to call me Regina."
"And what do I tell your father if I don't deliver you on time for your classes at the university?"
"You may tell him that I took the time to do the right thing by helping someone in need. He would do well to follow my example."
The limo driver slowed the vehicle. "Ah, the tenacity of youth. As you wish, Miss Hapsburg."
Regina rolled her eyes.
A few minutes later, Pauline and Scott settled comfortably into the back of the limo with Regina. They gratefully accepted a snack and soft drink from the limo's bar as they explained about the fox and the accident that left them stranded on the country road.
"And of course, it had to happen in a cellular dead zone," Scott concluded the story.
"You can use the limo phone if you like. It's not a regular cell phone that's prone to going out when it's too far from the towers. It's a global satellite phone so it always gets a strong signal."
"That's so cool," Scott said, a little overly enthusiastic as he examined it.
"He loves technology. He's a computer programmer," Pauline explained to Regina.
"Ah," Regina smiled politely. "My driver can also drop you off anywhere you need to go in town."
"How about the university? I'm starting a new job there this week and I was scheduled to stop in the HR department today to fill out some paperwork," Scott told her.
"I'll be taking some classes there in social work and gen ed requirements so it will give me a chance to explore the campus as well," added Pauline.
"Perfect. That's where I was headed anyway." Regina pointed to her book bag. "I'm also a student at USNE. I hope we'll see each other around campus."
* * *
The sign outside the door of the Student Union indicated that it was Student Activities Day. Banners hung everywhere, partially hiding the peeling paint. Students from different school groups recruited for their organizations.
The only activity that anyone inside the large open area really wanted to discuss was the supposed and alleged activity that had taken place the day before in the professor's office in the History Department.
"I heard there was some kind of orgy," said a girl in a tight sweater and short skirt.
"Yep, that's what I heard too," her friend agreed. "A guy in my English Lit class said they found him naked and handcuffed to the desk!"
"Can you believe what a perv he was?" whispered one Assistant Professor of Mathematics to another. "I heard they found him with a ball-gag in his mouth and a dildo shoved, well you know where!"
All around the USNE campus, the story just got wilder each time it was retold, like a game of telephone on steroids.
Sophomore Pam Rennek just shook her head and ignored the chatter while she unpacked the boxes at her display table. Her stepfather, James Conrad, was one of the EMT's who had tried to revive the professor. She knew it was true they had found him naked, but that was the extent of it. All these extraneous details would almost be laughable if the man hadn't died in his office.
Pam brushed the dust from one of the boxes off her sharp blue business suit. Even though she was only nineteen, she already dressed liked the junior executive that she dearly hoped to become upon graduation.
Pam uncovered the sign on the easel for her organization. It read: Don't be sorry, be smarter! Go to WAR – Women Against r**e.
As students started to file into the Student Union, Pam handed out pamphlets to mostly disinterested young women. "Date r**e is a real threat on college campuses all across America. Get the facts before it's too late," she said repeatedly.
It surprised Pam that so few girls would take the handouts. It surprised her even more to see a few who did accept the literature just toss it in the trash barrel by the door on their way out without even looking at it.
* * *
Regina Hapsburg checked out the college radio/TV station booth which stood next to Pam's Women Against r**e booth. Regina thanked the cute guy behind the table for the information he had just given her about the station. "I'm a broadcasting major so I'll definitely come by the station."
"You'd be perfect on camera," he complimented.
"Thanks," she said demurely.
"With your hair and smile, you could take over the world!"
This time, she acknowledged what he considered a compliment with a polite nod. It actually irked her intensely when she told a man about her planned career in broadcasting and he responded with a comment about her hair. Why bother getting a degree in broadcasting at all? Why not just audition for hair care product commercials if that's all anyone was interested in anyway?
At the next table over on the other side of the radio/TV station booth, a feisty and aggressive girl named April Pereira stood in front of the banner for BREATHE!, a student environmental group.
April approached passing students, whether or not they showed any interest in her or her booth. She shoved a brochure in a young man's hand as he walked by. "Here, take one. They're printed on recycled paper, of course." He didn't stop walking so she followed him. She waved her clipboard in his face. "Sign up for our trip next week to protest the logging in Fort Trodden State Forest."
"Chill, girl," the young man said as he pushed the clipboard away and kept on going. As April turned around back towards her booth, she and Regina bumped into each other.
They both started to apologize. April stopped short when she saw Regina's face. "I know who you are," April accused.
"Excuse me?" Regina answered.
"What are you, a corporate spy?"
"I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about and I don't recognize you."
April looked her up and down dismissively. She announced loudly, "Maybe that's because my picture isn't plastered all over websites and blogs every day."
April turned to the people around her and continued her performance. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Regina Hapsburg, daughter of the richest man in Connecticut and heiress to the Hapsburg Industries fortune. Imagine, the princess deigns to spend her time here at USNE with us commoners!"
Regina attempted to maintain her composure. Through gritted teeth and some semblance of a smile, she said, "You're making a scene."
"That's what I do, honey," April replied proudly. "It's a real talent!"
"If you'll excuse me," Regina told her in a curt tone. She turned to leave, but April grabbed her arm.
"You can't go anywhere until I tell everyone that one of your father's companies is responsible for logging in several state forests, including here in Connecticut."
Regina noticed April's environmental group banner for the first time. "Logging is a responsible part of forestry management and creates jobs for people who might otherwise not have them."
"Your father is a bastard."
"My father is a businessman."
"Same difference," April smirked.
"Well, I never-"
April cut her off. "No doubt. Now, why don't you just go find your big limousine, take a ride home and go crying to daddy about the mean girl at school who called your family out." When Regina didn't respond, April continued. "You did come to school by limo today, right?"
"What's wrong with that?" Regina asked defiantly.
"Try taking the bus sometime, girlie. You might get a real education!"
Regina left without saying another word, but visibly upset.
April turned toward Pam at the Women Against r**e booth who had witnessed the entire exchange. April coolly informed her, "I hate rich people."
Pam was almost afraid to ask, but she couldn't help herself. "Why?"
"Mainly because I'm not one of them." April paused dramatically and added, "Yet!" She winked at Pam and returned to her booth.
- Writer
