RE: Trailer Trash 61 pt 2

    “Wake! Up! Kids!” Tabitha sang in a quiet voice. “~We’ve got the dreamers disease!”

    Unlike yesterday, this bright Thursday morning Tabitha woke up with an energetic smile and lyrics on her lips. The problems from the day prior seemed distant and unimportant now, ephemeral, like shadow and frost vanishing as brilliant new sunshine beamed across the suburban yards. After all, how could she not feel great? How had it been so easy to lose sight of all of the incredible things Tabitha had going for her?

    “Age! Four! Teen!” She continued to mumble. “~They’ve got you down on your knees!”

    I’m out of the trailer court, Tabitha thought to herself. Family issues are on hold. COMFORTABLY paused, rather than… awkwardly up in the air, it feels like. I’m thin and pretty. Well, PRETTY-ISH. Okay, maybe I’m more GANGLY than SUPERMODEL SLENDER, but that’s okay, too! I’m right where I want to be. This where I’m at is good, for how much attention from others I’m comfortable with right now.

    “So! Po! Lite!” Tabitha mumbled to her empty bedroom. “~We're busy still saying ple~ease!” 

    She felt like dancing today, and in the privacy of the early morning she shifted from one foot to another and twisted her hips. A quick whirl around her room and everything was tidied up. Her bed was made as You Get What You Give by the New Radicals bopped over and over. Seeing her covers nice and squared away into soft stretch of broad space, Tabitha hopped over to her dresser and rifled through the drawers, intent on spreading out some outfit choices for the last few days of this week.

    “Fren! Eh! Mies! Who when you're down ain't your friend!”

    Laid out on the left side of her bed was the retro librarian chic blouse from grandma Laurie. It’s bottom hem was cut quite a bit higher than Tabitha was used to, and it was an off-cream color that was hard to match with things. A long-sleeved pink shirt would be experimentally paired with it—in all honesty Tabitha had never really worn pink. She had to plan her wardrobe around the unfortunate fact of her being a ginger, and pink outfits didn’t go well with her orange-ish hair. Pink complemented cream rather nicely though, and she needed to wear something beneath the retro blouse so that her bellybutton wasn’t on display. After all, she was thin now but that did not mean she was comfortable showing off her awful pale midsection yet. Tabitha only had one pair of jeans that were high-waisted enough to pair with that blouse, so that part of the outfit went without saying.

    Sprawled across the right side of the bed was her planned punk rocker aesthetic. A snug black tee coordinated with beige-green cargo pants. Back during their trip to the mall on Black Friday Tabitha had seen the outfit as very Avril Lavigne, but looking at it now she realized with a tinge of embarrassment that the ensemble actually much more resembled the cartoon character Kim Possible. It looked fun and sporty, which better fit Tabitha’s mood today… but then also—wearing a short-sleeve tee, this early in January? That wasn’t going to work.

    Pursing her lips, Tabitha returned to the dresser so that she could survey her options. There weren’t many long-sleeved things suitable to layer beneath the black tee. She had her pink long-sleeved shirt, and then one in sort of a dark burgundy—both of those were incongruous with black and beige-green. And, if yesterday was any indication, it was definitely too cold to just wear a tee beneath her hoodie!

    “Don’t! Let! Go!” Tabitha voiced under her breath, nodding with enthusiasm to the beat in her head. “You’ve got the music in you! One! Dance! Left! This world is gonna pull through! Don’t! Give! Up! You’ve got a reason to live! Can’t! For! Get! We only get what we gii~iiive!”

    With a contented sigh of exasperation, Tabitha folded the punk rocker outfit back up with care and returned the garments to their place in her dresser. She was feeling extra sporty today, but wouldn’t it be even better to save that one for after she got her cast off? This weekend couldn’t come soon enough! The librarian chic one was maybe a bit bookish looking for her to wear since her first after school art club meeting was today, however…

    I’m also feeling kinda… snarky? Tabitha thought to herself with a small smile. I can make it work.

    Last night when slipping off into dreamland, her head had been spinning with all of the different paths she had tangled herself up in. Thinking about internet handles and pen names and Julie made Tabitha remember her writing, which she hadn’t done any of since moving to live with the Macintires. Remembering that the cast came off this weekend made Tabitha think of running, of playing tag with her cousins again, of getting back into her exercise routine. Thinking about art club today reminded her that this was a great opportunity to reconnect with Alicia and Elena, who in this semester she now only saw before classes and at lunch. Which in turn made Tabitha realize she also had her new friends to socialize with—the gaggle of girls in Personal Fitness first period, and maybe even her table of classmates in sixth for Drawing.

    I haven’t really mixed those friend groups up, Tabitha realized. Would be cool to find out where Grace and Tiffany sit during lunch, invite them to hang with us. Marisa, too. Vanessa seems like she’d have her own clique of populars to chill with, though…

    She wasn’t ready to ruminate about Bobby, right now. Today the cheery butterflies in her tummy were too energetic, and if Tabitha gave them free reign to start daydreaming about teen romance or fantasizing about cute boys, she was afraid both feet would lift right up off the ground and float away. Picturing his grin felt pretty nice though, and maybe this was a Bobby sort of day where they could have some fun jousting back and forth with their teasing, somewhat flirty banter. Tabitha enjoyed that way more than she should.

    “Damnit, Bobby!” Tabitha whispered.

    Tabitha dressed in a hurry, and when she tugged up her panties she gave the elastic band a crisp snap as if she was a superhero donning her outfit. She slipped into her bra, fixed the clasp, and then adjusted herself with a look of determination as if checking her weapon holsters. The pink long-sleeved shirt was pulled on, with a moment to pull her tangle of hair free of the neck. Blouse on overtop, and buttoned up. Step into the high-waisted jeans, one leg at a time and shimmy herself into them. Socks went on last, today.

    She checked herself out in the finished outfit and felt pretty good about herself; brimming with confidence. A few steps in each direction, a twist and a turn indicated everything was sitting correctly and felt fine. Tabitha tested out taking a seat on the edge of her bed and then standing—the fit of these pants felt weird when she was sitting, she remembered, but not uncomfortable, per se. Just weird.

    “Don’t! Let! Go!” Tabitha lost her place in the song and shamelessly just repeated the chorus that she found super catchy. “You’ve got the music in you! One! Dance! Left! This world is gonna pull through! Don’t! Give! Up! You’ve got a reason to live! Can’t! For! Get! We only get what we gii~iiive!”

    A quick poke through her denim book bag had Tabitha looking around for her Gameboy, which had migrated at some point to the nightstand. She had brought it to school yesterday to link cable battle Pokemon with Alicia… and then forgotten about it. Then, she had taken it with her to the Williams’ place last night so she could have matches with Hannah or Matthew… and forgotten about it again, instead playing around on the computer with Casey. Today, she would remember!

    Maybe.

    Still singing softly, Tabitha shimmied and danced out of her room and down the hall into the bathroom. She looked even better in the brighter lights and bigger mirror, and flashed herself a gorgeous winning smile. Her messy mane of red hair was assaulted with the brush in violent strokes, transforming into some semblance of order. The past few days, her makeup had been minimal, but with the librarian chic outfit she was set on being a bit more bold and drawing on winged eyeliner—that fashionable feline flick curling up the tiniest bit from the edges of her eyes.

    “Pftt,” Tabitha laughed at lopsided first attempt, hurrying to wash and wipe it clean.  “Don’t! Get! Lopsided! You’ve got eyeliner on you! Don’t! Mess! Up! Your crummy look will fall through! Dah! Dah! Dlah!”

    She couldn’t stop herself from humming as she pranced out across the living room and into the kitchen. How could she stop? She had the music in her. Hannah’s lunchbox was set up, a sandwich was constructed and the bread crusts were cut off—for a very brief fleeting moment, Tabitha suspected she had forgotten something, but it passed before she could grasp onto whatever it was. Celery stalks were cut and slipped into a ziplock baggie, because she was pretty sure carrots had been yesterday. Hannah had turned her cute little nose up at celery in the past, but Tabitha had teased her about how they were water flavored, and made a game of how crisp and crunchy they were and how much she enjoyed biting into them.

    Fufufu~ Tabitha almost let out an evil laugh. Soon she’ll just be straight up eating healthy. I can get her trying vegetable smoothies this year! I know I’ll be doing a lot more of that stuff once I get back into running every morning.

    As usual a Fruit by the Foot and a Capri-Sun were tossed in the lunchbox before Tabitha put it in the fridge, but then she found herself looking around for something to make for her own breakfast. The microwave clock indicated she had a bit of time before she would have to head out to the bus stop, but maybe not enough for anything too fancy. Feeling optimistic, Tabitha hurried to wrench out the drawer beneath the oven and grab the small skillet, which she clapped up atop the big stove burner and then twisted the knob up to high.

    I can do up some scrambled eggs super fast, Tabitha decided. Two? Three? Maybe I can do three, split it and then just cover a little plate in wrap and leave it for whenever Hannah rolls out of bed today? I’ll have to jot up a quick note so that she sees.

    Eggs were fished out of the carton in the fridge, cracked with one hand, and then dumped without ceremony onto the skillet which had scarcely begun to heat, and Tabitha quickly walked each of the broken shells over to the kitchen trash can in little trips. Then, a tiny plate—well, technically this was one of the saucers for the Macintire’s set of teacups—was drawn out of the cupboard. It was fun plating food for Hannah on saucers instead of plates, because it made even her little itty-bitty servings look enormous. That was always something a seven-year-old appreciated.

    Man oh man. How long has it been since I had like a real breakfast?!

    * * *  

  Forcing herself to stop bopping along to the beat at the bus stop took herculean effort, and Tabitha shoved her hands deep into the pockets of the Springton Spirit jacket just to keep them still. She couldn’t remember the name of this other kid who’d exchanged nods with her hear at the end of the street, but she suspected it was Dave or David. Tabitha felt downright perky today, and although nobody here was really on speaking terms she overwhelmed each of them with a big smile in greeting. These kids were all boys and had a lot of difficulty maintaining eye contact with her, which again put her urge to tease someone into overdrive.

    When the bus arrived, Tabitha rushed up to be the first to board, clomping up the steps with eager energy and hurrying down the aisle towards the empty bench across from Gary. His brows were furrowed and he wore a frown that was almost a scowl, and she noticed he was balancing both a basketball and a pair of Nikes in his lap. Was it normal to bring extra sneakers to school? Tabitha glanced over, retracted her gaze, and then wound up glancing over towards him again as she tried to think of something clever to say.

    “Gary,” Tabitha whispered over.

    “Sup?” Gary turned his glare her way.

    “Gary,” Tabitha said. “I’ve got a song stuck in my head.”

    “Me too,” Gary admitted.

    “Which one?”

    “Uhh.”

    “Mine’s You Get What You Give. What do you got?”

    “Never heard of it,” Gary’s eyes narrowed.

    “C’mon, what do you got?” Tabitha pressed. “You Get What You Give, it’s uh, it’s New Radicals. You? Help me out, here.”

    “What It’s Like,” Gary answered. “Everlast.”

    “Ooooh,” Tabitha bobbed her head in appreciation. “Damn. Nice. Nice. Classic. Yeah—even just you sayin’ it, can practically hear the guitar chords playin’ out in my head. Good one, dang. Sooo. Sing some of it.”

    “What?”

    “You’ve got it stuck in your head, right?” Tabitha put on a quizzical look to go with her provoking smile. “Prove it. Sing some of it.”

    “What? No,” Gary made a face. “Nuh-huh.”

    “Do it,” Tabitha prodded with a grin. “I dare you.”

    “S’too early for all that,” Gary deflected. “You sing it.”

    “We’ve all seen a man at the liquor store beggin’ for your change,” Tabitha recited in a quiet voice. She found herself a little surprised by how smooth she sounded when she put in some effort.

    “Hair on his face is dirty, dreadlocked and full of mange~! C’mon, sing with me. I don’t know all of it.”

    “No,” Gary scoffed.

    It was still too early in the route for there to be many other kids on the bus with them, but what few were slouching in the seats here and there turned their attention towards them.

    “Gary, I need your help,” Tabitha insisted with a solemn expression. “I’ve had Get What You Give stuck in my head all morning. I’m literally going insane. It won’t stop playing in my head. Help me.”

    Wow, I know I’m all BUBBLING with confidence this morning for whatever reason, but I really do hate to realize how legitimately cringe I am when I’m feeling super confident. My ‘play it cool’ setting just doesn’t hold up when I really feel like I’m having fun. Cause for concern? Probably!

    “Sing somethin’, Gary,” A boy sitting a few rows back heckled. “Do it.”

    “C’mon, Gary~!” Tabitha put on a pleading pout. “I’ll sing with you! Then it won’t be so scary.”

    “Gary’s scared,” The boy in back latched onto that right away. “Do it, pussy.”

    “You do it, then,” Gary huffed, turning to shoot the guy a dirty look. “I ain’t singin’. Gary don’t sing.”

    “Gaaary!” Tabitha pursed her lips. “Please?! He asked the man for what he could spare with shame in his eye~es! ‘Get a job, you fuckin’ slob’ is all he replies!’ Sing it with me! Gary, you have to help. You have to. Get What You Give still won’t get out of my head. It’s too strong. Only you can save me.”

    “Naw, Gary don’t sing,” Gary jutted his chin out. “You’re on your own.”

    “Gary!” Tabitha teased. “Don’t! Give! Up! You’ve got a reason to live! Can’t! For! Get! We only get what we gii~iiive!”

    “Ah, hell naw,” Gary shook his head, but this time he couldn’t help but smile and reach up to clamp his hands over his ears. “Nope, nooope, no way in hell are you gettin’ that shit stuck in my head.”

/// I don't own You Get What You Give! In fact, right now it owns me. HELP

Man, What It's Like is an absolute fuckin' banger as well. Late nineties had some crazy good hits, went on an insane playlist jam last night prepping for today's writing section. Will fix links later! I want to reprocess that first Ricky and Roger bit and either add in some stuff or maybe move some bits around.