The Problem With Grenda

She was standing at her locker only ten yards away. Pacifica slung her purse over her shoulder and tried to walk past silently...tried not to say anything. "Hey Grenda, did you do well on the Earth Science test?"

 

Grenda looked awkward. She knew it was going to be a cruel joke at her expense, but she didn't see how. "Yeah...I guess I did alright..."

 

"It must've been easy for you since you know what it's like to have your own rain shadow," Pacifica laughed hollowly.

 

She didn't say anything. She just frowned, furrowed her brow, and walked away. Pacifica's heart broke. Why did she do that? Why did she say such a horrible thing to...to the most... "Grenda...wait..." she whispered, but no one heard.

 

...to the most beautiful woman she had ever known. Even walking away from her, she looked beautiful.

 

Her long shiny hair up in that cute pony-tail...her thighs were so pale and thick that she could be squeezed by them forever...not to mention her other...ample assets...

 

She'd give anything just to be normal with her. To talk to her. To be friends with her. To be more than friends with her.

 

Pacifica walked sullenly to class and sat down. Her friends had another teacher so she'd be all alone here. She pulled out her notebook and flipped it to the special pages. The pages she sealed together with a paperclip. There it was, taped to a page nobody but her would ever see.

 

A picture of Grenda in a one-piece swimsuit at the lake. She came across it when Candy brought pictures she took over the summer to class. There were other kids in the picture too, but Pacifica cut them out and taped Grenda into her notebook. She was kneeling off to the side. She probably didn't even know her picture was being taken. The look on her face captured the essence of a person in the routine of their daily life. The true meaning of a candid photograph. So natural. Not like Pacifica and her friends, who put on a show that they didn't even understand, every day of their lives.

 

Grenda would grow up to be tall and beautiful. Pacifica's breasts were already growing in (aided with the occasional bubble-wrap and tissue paper) but Grenda's would be full and magnificent before they reached the eighth grade. Pacifica looked at the picture. Just the slightest bit of cleavage out of the top of her lime-green one-piece. No doubt after a few more years Grenda would get tons of boys.

 

Pacifica sighed. Boys. When Grenda reached the end of puberty before anyone else, would she even be interested in Pacifica? Would anyone? She started doodling in the margins of the page. A heart here, a ribbon there...

 

"Alright, everybody open your text books to page 618! Today we'll be learning about World War 1..." the teacher droned on in that monotone voice. Pacifica didn't even bother opening her textbook. She was so popular that even the teachers didn't bother to bother her. It didn't hurt when your dad was the richest man in town and your mom was on every charity and PTA board. She drew an arrow through one of the hearts.

 

Suddenly Grenda walked in. She must've been transferring into the class.

 

"...which would eventually result in the Treaty of Versailles which led to...oh, just take a seat Grenda...take a seat anywhere."

 

Pacifica slammed her notebook shut. The paperclip went flying to the floor and she was pretty sure there was a huge ugly line on the paper from where she was drawing.

 

Grenda took a seat over by Candy. She smiled that beautiful smile that made Pacifica's heart melt as she giggled about something to Candy. Candy...that freak. Why would Grenda want to be friends with her? Candy was a twiggy little girl with glasses bigger than her face who used bandaids as tape and did weird things with her school lunches.

 

Grenda opened her book. Grenda. Thick tree trunk arms. Caterpillar eyebrows. Gross thrift store shirt. Socks going up to her knees. Her hair went down in front of her ears sometimes making it look like she had sideburns. Not to mention her...habits. She was just as weird as Candy. Carrying that disgusting lizard everywhere like it was a Gucci dog. She was ugly. She sweated all the time. Her voice was deeper than her dad's...

 

And yet...

 

And yet she was perfect. She was like a goddess out of a Classical painting. Pacifica wanted to be held in those arms in front of the fireplace at her dad's cabin in winter. Grenda's eyebrows were thick but shapely like a Meditteranean woman's. Sometimes her hair would fall in front of her face like an old-timey actress. Her clothes could use some work, it was true, but she was courageous. She didn't care if her socks were stretched out and falling around her ankles or that sometimes her shirt was tucked into her underwear...her sky-blue underwear...

 

"...trench warfare. So you four are in a group, you four are in a group," the teacher was pointing to clusters of students, "you four are in a group, aaaand, Grenda, go join those guys over there. Now each of you discuss a section from the chapter, first, second, third, fourth, fifth, got it? Good." Grenda started walking over. Pacifica checked to make sure her notebook was closed. She wanted to say something. She felt like something had to come out of her mouth. But Grenda spoke first.

 

"...let's get this over with." Grenda opened her book to a random page. She probably didn't intend on saying anything since Pacifica was in the group. Why did she think Pacifica was going to insult her? Did she think she was that heartless? To just say something mean and terrible to her without it being earned?

 

Grenda was breathing through her nose heavily. It was audible. In. Out. In. Out. "Geeze, Grenda are you out of breath?" Oh no. Why did she say that?

 

"...no." Her breathing became much quieter. The other kids in their group went on talking about what they were supposed to be talking about.

 

The mole on her cheek...like Cindy Crawford. "Is that mole fake, Grenda?"

 

Grenda put her fingers to her cheek. "...no. It's just a mole..."

 

Tell her it makes her look like Cindy Crawford! Tell her it makes her look like Cindy Crawford! Pacifica couldn't say anything. She froze up. She would think she was weird. Grenda wouldn't like her...Grenda wouldn't like her back.

 

They sat in silence. Grenda probably took it as an insult. Pacifica bit her lip. Grenda leaned back in her chair and sighed. Her hand rested against her thigh...her thick milky white thigh...

 

Her shorts were tight (a thing that Pacifica was always grateful for) and the cuffs cut into her legs. Pacifica never had to worry about such things. Her clothes were always comfortable and stylish. Her mom gave her enough money to buy anything at the mall she wanted. Did Grenda, like to wear the clothes she was in? Did she have a choice in buying her clothes?

 

Pacifica zoned out. She imagined taking Grenda to the mall. They'd start out in the food court where she'd buy Grenda anything she'd want to eat. Corn-dogs, Chinese, Pizza, anything she wanted. Pacifica barely ate anything at the mall so she'd just sit there admiring the view, but she'd share a milkshake with Grenda. Two straws, like in the movies.

 

Then she'd take her clothes shopping. First, something formal. A dress to wear to dances and dinners. Something sensible but provocative...like a black cocktail dress! She briefly imagined Grenda wearing such a thing, with a small gold necklace and high heels...

 

After that, they'd go to everyday wear. As much as Pacifica loved Grenda's tight purple shorts, she'd look even better in skirts...denim skirts...denim skirts with pantyhose...

 

Pacifica would pick out dresses and outfits while Grenda stood there expectantly. She'd have no idea what was going on, but Pacifica would guide her through it all. Shirts, blouses, skirts, pants, shorts, accessories, shoes, socks, even...swimwear...and other stuff...

 

She blushed even thinking about it.

 

Her and Grenda would go to the movies, maybe a romantic-comedy, or just a romance. Did Grenda like vampires? She was sure she did. And in the theater, she'd take Grenda's arm and lean in on her big strong shoulder. She'd probably close her eyes and fall asleep there. And Grenda would rest her warm cheek on top of Pacifica's head...

 

"Are you alright?" came a deep voice.

 

Grenda was looking at her. "Huhwha?" said Pacifica. She could feel her cheeks turning red.

 

"This time you were the one that was breathing heavy," said Grenda. Her voice was deep like thunder. "They probably don't have the air conditioner working right now. Is anyone else kind of hot?"

 

"Oh yeah," said Pacifica absentmindedly. She clapped her hand over her mouth. She was sure her face had changed from red to purple, so she buried it in her textbook.

 

"Yeah, it is kind of warm in here," said another kid.

 

"Probably the air conditioner," said another. Grenda didn't seem to notice that Pacifica said anything.

 

Pacifica glanced over at Grenda who was holding the center of her shirt. She was fanning herself with it. She was probably sweaty...and smelly. Her armpits and the small of her back would get dark stains sometimes in PE. It was gross. What was even grosser was when she'd get sweat on her forehead, which was all the time. She'd break out just a little at her hairline. Tiny swollen red pimples where she'd use the back of her fat hand to wipe the greasy sweat from.

 

"If you ever bothered to shower, you wouldn't break out so much," said Pacifica. Grenda's chinline was lost in a ring of fat, so when she turned her head it always looked weird, like there was a person trying to move in a giant suit of skin.

 

"That was...uncalled for..." Grenda looked down at her feet.

 

What was she talking about? She was just giving Grenda some advice. Or was she? Why did she even bring it up in the first place?

 

"I just...I just wanted to let you know...in case you ever wanted to look beautiful," what was she talking about? She was doing it again! "But you'll need more than just good hygiene to pull that off."

 

Grenda started swinging her feet and held her shoulder, "...good to know..."

 

Pacifica picked up her purse and stood up to leave. She always made everything worse! Everyone she thought was cool or interesting or...or beautiful, they'd end up getting hurt by her.

 

"And where do you think you're going?" asked the teacher.

 

"Bathroom, you gonna stop me?" asked Pacifica.

 

The teacher paused to think about it. "Nope, but you'll wanna take a hall-pass, Miss Northwest."

 

Pacifica took the hallpass, which was a little card on a lanyard by the door. She looked angry until she got out of the class room, where she put on her real face. Her lip quivered and her eyes became watery. Some kids were standing outside the bathroom. Just a little further before she could let it all go.

 

She just barely made it to the bathroom before she sobbed. Luckily nobody was in the stalls. She pulled a bit of makeup out of her purse, but waited until she was done feeling sorry for herself before making herself look presentable.

 

Everyday it was like this. She poked fun at a lot of people. But whenever she did it to Grenda it made her feel horrible. But she was disgusting!

 

She was more disgusting than the rest of them! Fat rolls hanging out the sides of her pants; posture that made her look like a hunchback; she carried around a lizard on her shoulder; what was wrong with her? Why was Grenda so ugly when she really was truly beautiful? Pacifica didn't understand!

 

As she walked back to class, she daydreamed about Grenda holding her in front of the fireplace again. She was strong and powerful. Pacifica would nuzzle her chest and fall asleep there as the fire crackled on.

 

"You left this in class," said Grenda, handing Pacifica her notebook. They were in the hallway, class was over.

 

Pacifica took the notebook, "thanks...thanks Grenda." She felt hollow. She didn't know what to say. Grenda turned to go. "Hey, wait!"

 

Grenda turned around, looking a little angry. "Yeah?" said Grenda defensively.

 

"Your mole...makes you look like Cindy Crawford," said Pacifica. She couldn't believe she said it. It felt like a thousand butterflies just exploded in her stomach.

 

The hum of students talking to one another around them punctuated the silence of the moment.

 

"Are you making fun of me?" Grenda looked even angrier.

 

"No...I mean, I mean your mole...it..." How could she even think that? She was practically telling her she loved her!

 

Candy waved from across the hall, "Grenda! Over here!"

 

"Yeah, okay," said Grenda skeptically, "I'll see ya around..." She turned to go.

 

Pacifica stood there not knowing what to think or feel as life continued around her.

 

EPILOGUE

 

Alex Hirsch sat at his desk smoking a big cigar with a scotch in one hand and a thousand dollars in the other.

 

Suddenly his assistant ran in. "Boss, you'd better read this!"

 

Alex Hirsch frowned at the man. He didn't know the man's name, but he was certain he was somebody's brother-in-law or cousin or something. "Why are you interrupting cigar and scotch time, Melvin?" He assumed everybody who was inferior to him on the food chain was called Melvin, even the women.

 

"It's something written by the fans! This kid named Dangercide..."

 

"Let me see that," Alex Hirsch snapped the papers from Melvin's hand. He read through one page and then the next, and then the next. "Holy ****-stain, Melvin! I can't believe it!"

 

"That's why I brought it to your atte-"

 

"Get this...this Dangerkid an apartment, a pro-bono salary, and a new car!" Alex Hirsch threw his scotch glass on the ground.

 

"Sir?"

 

"Melvin, we've just found our newest writer for Gravity Falls!"

 

Melvin ran out the door and began calling Dangercide in his comfortable basement home not minutes later.

 

"By this time next week," whispered Alex Hirsch to himself, "Dangercide's going to be a household name..."