The Depressed Bathroom Club

The Depressed Bathroom Club

I slumped against the bathroom wall. Another failed test. Another botched presentation. And yet another school. One more time that I reach the front of the class and everybody starts laughing even though they have no idea what the problem is. The doctors can't explain it. Hell, I can't even explain it. 

The ground is clean but on the window and the walls, there are torn off pieces of masking tape. On each of the pieces of tape, someone different has scrawled a message. Most of them are unoriginal, written with a purple marker that now lies forgotten on the sink. There must be nearly one hundred by now, but no teachers have realized that their missing tape wasn't such a fluke after all. 

The ceiling lights are harsh, adding to the depressing atmosphere of the place. In another corner, there's a girl. She's silently reading a book, back against the wall, slumped in an awkward position. Her hair is a glossy black, tied up in a high ponytail with two braids framing her face and her heavily mascara lined eyes. She doesn't look that approachable, but I'm too tired to care. 

"Whatcha doing?" I speak up, my voice expressionless from exhaustion. 

She looks up, her eyes narrowed. "Take a guess. Ever had the pleasure of reading The Invisible Life Of Addie Larue?" 

I frown. "I hated it and gave up at the 50 page mark."

"Huh, you don't have a taste for reading?" She questioned, setting the book aside. "Doesn't matter much anyway. What are you doing in the bathroom. Isn't it class time?" 

"I messed up on the presentation. I forgot it. I think people laughed." I say miserably, rummaging through my bag to find a granola bar. It was gross to eat it in the bathroom, but at this point, screw having good hygiene. Maybe if I got sick, I wouldn't have to go to school tomorrow. 

"Ah," she nodded sagely. "Welcome to the Depressed Bathroom Club, in that case. Home to all of the girls who are skipping class, lunch and other school related activities. Detention too. You'll notice that not many members are here right now, but that's okay. It's just a good day for them, but just you wait. They'll be flocking here by the end of third period. I'd give you a brochure, but I gave the last one away yesterday to this really sweetie newbie who was puking her brains out in stall number three." 

My head spun, trying to comprehend what she was saying. "Brochure? Depressed Bathroom Club? What on earth are you talking about?" 

"I'm dead serious! And I'm Embry," she added as an afterthought. "Serious about everything but the brochure. That shit doesn't exist. No need to let any adults know that a bunch of kids miss class to hang out here and vent to each other as our messed up club. So, wanna go into detail about your appearance in our noble society?" 

At this point, I had no idea whether this was an elaborate joke on Embry's part or if she was actually be serious like she said she was. I found myself telling her anyway. It felt nice to talk to someone without having them try to dissect your inner thoughts and feelings. 

"I have times where I'll lose my memory really badly. Sometimes, it'll only be ten minutes. Other times, it could be a few days. It happened right before my presentation, so I didn't even understand the topic I was presenting. I had practiced so much." I reply, my face contorting into a look of intense frustration and self loathing. It felt good to get it off my chest, but terrible to say it aloud one more time. 

"I see... So you're really disappointed and want to punch something? It's a good thing we have a punching bag in the back, just in case of situations like this." 

Despite knowing that there wasn't a punching bag in the bathroom of all places, I still craned my neck in confusion. "Wait, what?" 

"I was kidding about that, too." Embry announced, a small smile on her face. "Made you look, though? Basic human psychology. You know there wasn't a goddamn punching bag in the ladies room but you still instinctively needed to check. I read about it once. Absolutely boring book, but really educational. The History of Minds, if you wanted to know." 

The door swung open and another girl came in sobbing. She was wearing a black flowy skirt and a tank top, and she collapsed on the floor in sobs. "I want to k-kill him." she stuttered, wiping tears away from her face in anger and betrayal.

Embry glanced at me carefully, filling me in on the situation. "That's Elise Riviera, the apparent ex-fling of the school's hottie. He's really not that attractive and worth your tears." she diverted her attention to the girl. "Also, he's squeamish and a jerk."

Elise looked at Embry in confusion. "Squeamish? He's not squeamish. Wish he were, it would make the god of South Castle a little more human."

"Oh yes!" Embry told her gleefully, twirling a braid around her fingertip. "Did you know he kissed Ashley Adams so she would dissect his frog for him? He's got a phobia of creepy, crawly, cute little frogs. I once put one in his locker, you know. He positively freaked!" 

Elise dissolved into another fit of sobs, presumably at the mention of Ashley. "He said I was different." she choked out. "Bullshit, all of it."

"He says that to all girls," Embry disclosed bluntly. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" She stood up, pulling the tear streaked girl off the cold bathroom tiles. I handed Elise a makeup wipe silently, unsure of what else to do. She accepted it gratefully, wiping the black tracks of mascara off her face. 

Now that Elise wasn't hiding her face in her hands, I could see what she truly looked like. Thick dark brown hair and a spattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose. Purple eyeshadow was dusting on her eyelids, making her look mysterious and vengeful. She looked really pretty, so pretty that I almost felt insecure. She sniffed in distaste, her jaw clenched. "I want to kill him." 

"Don't we all, 'Lise. Don't we all." Embry hummed sympathetically, letting Elise bury her face in her shoulder. "I'll see to it that a frog magically appears in his locker after class." 

"Who's she?" Elise said finally, looking at me curiously. Her eyes were still red and her cheeks were still pink and blotchy, but she seemed more or less in control of her emotions now. "New kid? You look like you forgot something really important. And you look anxious, but the reason you're here isn't anything new." 

My eyes widened in surprise. "How did you-?" 

Embry nodded knowingly, brushing invisible dust off her leggings. She'd layered denim shorts over them, giving her a very edgy appearance. "Lise is a self proclaimed psychic. Not a real one, but she has a knack for knowing stuff. Just like me!" she gave a short laugh. "Everyone wears their heart on their sleeve. Isn't that true, Aurora?" 

I gulped in amazement. "Okay, seriously, how did you know that? I never told you my name." 

"You're wearing a name tag, dummy, because you're new. Anyway, back to what I was saying before: welcome to the depressed bathroom club. We're totally psyched to have another member."