Glass of Your Opinion

Muted Radiance is the verbal manifestation of my thoughts when she passed through the crowd. I saw her in that Blue Morilee Strap dress that seemed far more conservative than the other outrageous styles that made up the prom's menagerie.

I couldn't understand why it was that she caught my eye, but David suggested it was because of the same reason she caught everyone else's. "Wanna know my cup of opinion? She came her to sabotage this whole operation, man. She's a fucking time bomb."

"Still, should I go talk to her? I mean, it's been 10 minutes and I don't think her date is coming."

David swung his head back to me after waving to one of his friends. "What?....Oh um, I'm not one to tell you advice on beckoning and beguiling ladies, especially ones like her. You can here because you wanted to help me find a guy here, right. And because you're my best friend, so just help me solicit one of these littl' lads here and we spend the rest of the night quaffin, swiggin, and poundin'."

He exacerbated the final verb. "Sound good man?"

Taking what I assumed was a 'yes' to my question, I nodded as he melted into the crowd to entertain himself alone. I induced a while longer wait for rides, so I took the time to amble against the wall to get to her. She had not moved from her spot when she saw me.

"That's a nice dress."

"Thanks, it seemed like the best choice given the circumstances. Slits, cut outs, corsets even. Mine is a bit more conservative than the others here. Not as audacious, you might say. Speaking of which is there something I can help you with?"

Her response was a blend of sass and spite, but I could tell it wasn't directed at me. "Zella Baker right. I'm Miles. Excited for tonight?"

She shifted her eyes, the lids beneath looked heavy and tired, in with an absence of makeup. "What's it to you? You and your friend seem to be doing fine."

I was taken aback, but not appallingly. A response like this was expected after what happened. But it did raise the question as to why she was here now when no one cared. I asked her what she sought and why here, without reminding her of what happened. I used the trademark, 'Glass of Your opinion' to ask her as did most kids on school.

"Stop saying that. 'Glass of Your Opinion' was a phrase I coined, that I invented, now everyone in Town is using it against me. They just go about their lives pretending that I never existed. Put 'reaping their attention' aside, every time I even try to talk to them, they treat me like I'm some usurper. But those fat bitches over there, reveling in the attention and amor of the kids are the real grim reapers."

I became at a loss with words. I was not the boy to take abuse and never advocate to a trusted adult, but simultaneously, I couldn't tell whether or not this girl was attacking me or inciting me.

"High School builds habits, good and bad. Whichever one this is, gotta find the use for it." She said bluntly. "Why don't you tell me your habits." She swung her hair to one side and began to take careful steps through the hall, the first since she arrived. I was left leaning against the wall, like a man without a care in the world.

I checked the clock, 8:23. It was time soon.

*

My younger sister told me it was stupid going, especially for David. I ignored her seeing as how she liked to exploit atypicality in other kids and base her judgements on those facts. Such was the mind of an unscrutinized 11 year old.

My parents on the other hand were not opposed to it, nor did they care that David was an invert. They had known them since 8th grade when I brought him home to study and said he cured my social anxiety, (which was only partially true). Their only cautious request was that I lay off beer after 10:00, that way any and all delirium would've waned.

'What about water' I considered at the party. 'I never asked.'

*

After taking another few minutes to lean against the wall, acting as the hawk observing his birds fly and dance about, I decided to try again with Zella. Finding her this time against the school vending machine at the opposite wall fo the cafeteria, she raised her brows.

"So as I recall before you walked away you wanted to talk to me? Well i'm here now and I just thought I could look into your glass of....sorry. If I could just hear your opinion."

I felt ashamed of myself for not being able to come up with another phrasing, more so when she rubbed her mascara-less eyes. She glanced at me for a moment, with a forebode and warning.

"You all really love that phrase. But yes, I was asking about habits. My habits were coming to parties like this and being verbose with all my friends, or at least the first parts true. That's why I'm here and apparently its the same thing that brought you here."

"How'd you figure, is it because you see me wearing this red blazer during every school social?"

"Actually, I presumed it's because of your greasy best friend over there, David. I heard he's got many fans but few real confidants, but this is the fifth time you've arrived in the same car so I suppose you're one of the lucky few. Not unlike me."

As I watched David stumble about the crowd, I noticed another celebrity among students: Sara McParker, The Queen of Whitney High. She wore a Purple Satin strapless that gave the other flamboyant dresses the intended burden of humility. Of course Todd's his wavy hair never ruffled in spite of the rhythmic thrashing that everyone joined in.

To be one sole mind acting only on impulse. Weird.

I moved closer to her and she didn't seem to notice, or I should say care since she seemed to be highly observant, more so than myself. "You got no friends now? Well I suppose that's difficult with that incident."

She grinned sardonically. "You referring to that time I tried was going to kill Todd? Well news flash Perry Ellis, that 9mm Taurus Magnum wasn't mine. It was planted there."

My impulse was to smirk. I've heard stories of what everyone thought they saw or heard, but most of it was just vicious rumor. Regardless, the mere fact she was back at school after suspension 2 months ago proved she wasn't unstable, and likely indicated that she was seeking redemption. She seemed observant like me, and that may have been worth certain considerations. Hearing a story from a circumstantial person seemed worth it. After all, I came here to find a date, and watch David. "I've heard a lot of rumors about what happened. Seeing as how I never met you personally, I assume I barely know shit, but I'm sure you've got your own story."

I took a seat as she glanced up in abashment. "Now look who wants to speak to the former Queen. Admittedly, you're the longest conversationalist I've had in months so why not. Let me tell you the tale of literal woe of Zella The Fucking Disgraced Baker."

*

We didn't get far in our exchange when our parents pulled into the carpool and the students flooded the lane. The common destination was Casa Vertigo, one fo the best in the city. David and I were being whisked there by his mother. I had met her any times, and considered me a 'positive influence' on her otherwise ingenuously, spontaneous son. I comforted him in the car for having no current success with dates, which admittedly sounded hypocritical coming from me. Inevitably, this would lead David to resort to more stimulant methods of curing his disappointment.

As we were dropped off and we humbly cavorted inside the ballroom, I still wished Miles' parents had imposed a drinking curfew's, but like most kids in the 80s, his parents barley bothered with rules and he himself didn't believe in consequences. Except when it concerned his esteem, which he abruptly informed me was a train wreck.

"Did you act like a fool, or unzip your fly? Did anybody else see it?" I asked panicked at the refreshment table, but only because he was like a dog leaping on me.

"Nah, man. He said he'd rather dance with the Principal then with me." He said more calmly as he took more breaths and became aware of his aloofness. I shook his head at him and offered him some water. He doused it in a flash, restoring his stability.

"Some cowboy you are." He looked up humbly. "Still a nice tux."

"Hmm. So what's Baker's cup of opinion? Has the former Queen of Whitney High come to watch Sarah reveling in victory? Hm?"

I shrugged. "Well, you know she used to date Todd, but it seems his jocky disposition made her appear as more of a prize to be won. When Sara McParker came in Sophomore year, the girl nearly upstaged Zella in everything, except for the election and grades. Then he wanted to date Sara. But we didn't get much farther than that."

"Well if there's such a thing as a shotty way to get a date, a genuine sob story like that sure as hell's got my vote. Don't bother with bitches like her. But whatever girl you choose, better get Juliet quick, els' our mommy Montague won't be too pleased. All the good ones are taken, Romeo."

I patted him on the back, his early exuberance had stabilized. Maybe he was right, but most girls here were either swinging it with a boy or fortified in packs. The loners were decreasing proportionally with the hours left of the late prom. No one ever disturbed the packs. "Never mind me, it's 8:03, and you need to find a friend or you're going home to your mom with beer on your tuxedo and nothing to defend it with. Best get to it."

He nodded in spasms and trudged off into the crowd. 'Strange', I thought. 'He usually has at least one drink to boost his courage.' I began to look around for Zella. We hadn't finished yet.

*

I remembered that lazy March school day. The day the Principal announced that Zella Baker was caught bringing a 9mm on campus, and many assumed it was on account of her Ex. I didn't know what to think of it; I barley knew the most popular girl in school, and thought it was futile and inconsistent for someone as delicate as her to shoot Todd Anders. She had many boyfriends why would this one send her over the edge.

*

I barely spoke beyond asking a vital question, since her story not only enthralled me, but made me relate to her more than I ever imagined. As the story unfolded, my doubt began to evaporate as she spoke with such eloquence and scorn that proved she'd have no reason to lie.

"That bastard inadvertently showed me that my celebrity status was a label. I knew that my opponent Sara, was still trapped in that very beautiful prison I was in. What I didn't count on was the measures Sara would take to get that label."

"What'd you mean. That....wait. That gun wasn't yours was it. It wasn't even hers."

"The week Todd broke up with me, I returned the gun he'd let me borrow to his backpack. That proves how easily forgettable I was, seeing as how he found it and trusted his new bitch with it. The part I hate most is how Sterling, the only school official who was fond of me, believed it, after my Parents confirmed that Todd gave me that gun as a gift. 'Abuse' was the word that came up the most in conversation."

I was surprised. Not at her story, but at how feasible she was in speaking. Her voice flattened towards the end of the story with a certain drowsiness as if it didn't matter whether I gave it credit her or not.

But something more. This encounter ended up becoming more than I bargained for. Her tick-less sense of perception and spontaneous candid demeanor had arose warm feelings. Though I like most didn't believe in insta-love, she certainly was gregariously friend material. My suspicion, which now became solid deduction, told me that she felt the same way.

For a long while the lethargic beats of the Cafeteria, coupled with the murmurs of other students, filled the room. Every party I came to, I always enjoyed those minutes of silence. The only thing that bounced around in those period were the radically contrasting and rarely comprisable thoughts in people's heads.

Apparently, Zella awoke from it faster than me. "Miles. Did you OD?"

I shook my head back to remembrance and reality. "No, I just. I really thought your was candid and taking a sip from you glass of opinion really was unique, if that makes sense."

"It's starting to. You know Miles, you're not the parasite I thought you'd be." At first I was appalled she thought of me as some vicarious asshole, but then I realized that she never treated me that way and openly admitted how she initially felt.

Thus, I made no psychical response.

"You're much like I am now, eagle-eyed...no hawk...whatever fucking bird in the animal kingdom that's most keen. Point is, I like you. You're a welcome change of pace for a girl kicked out of the fast lane."

I smiled. I wasn't on the edge of my seat. Not anymore. "Hey Zella, remember when I said I came here to protect my 'groggy confidant' as you called him?" She nodded. "It seems I haven't been telling the full truth either."

"Oh fuck. Don't tell me you're in love with him. Well, in case you weren't listening, I am no good at setting guys up."

"God no...I mean he's my best friend and all but, you know."

She crossed her eyes. "I actually don't, so how bout you clue me in?"

"What I mean is, I think I found another best friend."

For the first time during our encounter, she offered a genuine startle. Perhaps I was wrong, I began to think. No, no. That's David's wisdom discouraging you, I reminded myself.

"Yes, I know that sounds like the tenderhearted bullshit you hate, but it is Prom. How about one dance. Before the rave begins, which should be in about...3 minutes."

Her startle descended into trepidation. I awoke. The cause of my zealous behavior was a mystery to me. Perhaps it was the knowledge that I began to see that I was overstepping myself. Or, less logically in my mind, her composure put me at ease I didn't feel afraid to ask. Regardless of the reason, this was an uncharacteristic move, that not only shocked her, but me as well.

I mean, I wasn't going to ask Zella to be my girlfriend, but just one dance. Figured in addition to my success in finding a partner, Sara seeing Zella with a well rounded student such as myself might give her a run for her money. But Zella was changed, different. I wasn't going to assume I knew anything about her desire.

Still, how could I unconsciously think that one meager exchange could warm a lady, a scorned one at that.

10 minutes, please. That's likely faster than it took Todd to get to her.

*

"You know what the real bullshit is...the fact that you think 3 minutes can mean anything to a lady. Todd and I talked for 20 minutes before he asked me to be his friend."

I nodded slowly indicating understanding as she swayed with me as the low beats drew to a close. She assured me that this once dance 'didn't mean shit', but after seeing her rhythm of speaking, i could tell she meant she was happy. Looks like David's advice ironically paid off. 'New friendships happen in mysterious and illustrious ways'.

As I looked at Sara, Todd, and the other guests, content in their mirage, I gave that long overdue smirk with her. Sara's forehead had a glossy sheet of sweat that was visible from 20 feet away, but kept her credibility poised perfectly. I would've felt sorry for Sara, but I didn't.

My glass of opinion didn't mean shit if she was happy.