O.k. Back to the gym in 1995. After the lesson ‘Steps’ was finished and all the girls had left the gym, the teacher walked towards her own car to store her sports bag.
There were some girls, hangin’ around her car. The teacher was a little surprised. She got the sudden feeling of being trapped. Fruity seemed a good girl to her, but in this situation, her student looked like a misbehaving kid with a bad mood. A terrifying thought for the teacher, who had a daughter of the same age.
Immediately she decided to move the bad prejudices away. To make room for some happy thoughts about the mission they were up to. They were going to make a person happy with a surprise visit. The teacher loved doing that. It also could be a good step in her career. Being a popular teacher would maybe increase the number of participants in her ‘Steps’ class next week.
In fact, the teacher was right in her guessing. Fruity was not really doing a great job hanging around her teachers car. She had no good intentions. But she couldn’t care less. She was young and wanted to have fun. Some excitement in her life was welcome. They could damage the car, the teacher might be getting angry. She loved to see the response and laughed about it in advance. Such a joy.
But nothing turned out the way Fruity was expecting or hoping. The teacher, with the happy thoughts in her mind, did not make a scene. She kindly asked one of the girls: “I beg your pardon, I’d like to store some stuff here. Are you girls having fun?” She said this with the greatest smile.
The girls didn’t liked people to smile to them. So they went home. To their moms, who never smiled at them. The moms, who only screamed at them. And asked them to do the dishes. A lovely opportunity for them to say ‘no’ and create drama.
“Fruity, shall we?”, the teacher continued. She was glad the girls had left her red car. “Yes, let’s go”, Fruity responded while rapping on a shawl. Without the girls, there was nothing left to do. Only to visit Bessy: the overdramatic fashionable kid who she adored.
The house were Betty lived in was very pretty. Also very pink.
Fruity rang the bell. “Hey mrs mother of Bessy!” She shouted enthusiastic to the woman standing in the door opening. She told the teacher to wait for a second in the car, because than she could investigate if the visit was proper or not. That was a lie. But the teacher was very brave and followed the plan without asking further questions. “I am a friend of Bessy, hi I’m Fruity”, Fruity quickly added. It was the third lie that day.
The mother was not a tough cookie. “Welcome,” she said. “Bessy is upstairs.” “Okay,” Fruity answered, while waving to the teacher to join. “I have a friend with me, if that is ok.”
“Sure,” the mother said. “Bessy will take care of some drinks for the both of you. Have fun girls.”
And there it happened. The fight. While Fruity walked into Bessy’s bedroom, Bessy was laying on her bed. “WHAT?”, she said in a very unkind way – like during the sports lesson, but a little more angry – when she saw the uninvited visitors. She started screaming in a very high octave. The teacher was impressed by the noise. But Fruity decided quickly that it had to stop. So she put her hand on the mouth of Bessy. Which was, after all, not a smart move. Bessy had her hand free and used it to slap Fruity in the face. It was what Bessy wanted to do since the ‘Steps’ lesson.
The teacher didn’t understand why there was such an aggressive environment in the room. She took the role of mediator between – what she thought – was a friend fight, probably caused by hormones. She reckoned it was something about a boy. Remembering her own childhood, she knew the emotions could rise high in certain situations.
But there was unfortunately nothing to mediate. The two girls were now screaming both. Fruity lay on the floor, Bessy pulled Fruity her hair, Fruity was putting her nails into Bessy her body.
The teacher decided to leave. She couldn’t see it anymore and felt uncomfortable as the third part. She thought this was an intimate thing about the two, were she could not say anything about. She rather waited in the car. The visit did not went very well. Very far from her joyful, world changing expectations.
Finally, after a thirty minute fight, Fruity also left the pink house, through the back door. That was something she just thought was best. She had seen the mother sitting in the room close to the front door, so for escaping more troubles, the back door was the best exit for her.
The teacher was quiet when she saw Fruity. All bloody, with the ugliest haircut ever and broken nails, Fruity drove away, with her head up high. Okay, the friendship plan didn’t worked out so well, but there were more fish in the sea.