Kidding ourselves

So tonight, let's be as bold as we want to run, four eyes ohhh
We're kidding ourselves kidding ourselves
So what do you want from me

-Stabilo

"The Harpy?" I blinked in surprise as a voice in the front of the class spoke up. "God, why not just call her the Masked Whore?"

I was irked for two reasons; one, who the fuck did this little bitch think she was to be criticizing anyone's choice in clothing when she had her uniform rolled up to her cooch? And two, it's not like I picked the damn nickname. Ian did.

I should probably start there.

-/The Previous Night/-

Months of toiling and stitching and endless measuring-not to mention being gauged with a needle on a regular basis- had led to this moment. Ian continued to beam as he walked around me in a circle, stopping every few moments to burn a lose thread off with his lighter.

"This is great." He said.

"This is ridiculous."

Rolling his teal eyes, he put an arm around my shoulder. We peered into the mirror; him with a boastful smirk, and me, with a hesitant glare. A sigh rose in my throat as his grip tightened.

"It's just a few quick snaps for the website."

Him and that stupid website.

I shook my head slightly, "why do I have to be involved in your creepy fetish site anyway?"

"Uh, because no one will buy the costume if I'm stuffed into it, duh." Apparently he saw me raking my eyes over his torso with doubt, because of course, he went on. "Well, maybe the guys would. But the girls wouldn't."

"So, I'm getting pulled into some cheap-"

"Hey!"

"Cosplay underworld-"

"Pleather is not cheap!"

"So you can please some skanky girls-"

"You don't know they're-"

"Without even getting a cut?"

That shut him up. Ian tilted his head at me. "A cut?"

"That's right." I nodded. I watched him purse his lips and run his eyes over the costume.

"Like, how much of a cut?"

"Like, forty percent."

"Three."

I tilted my head, "don't insult me. Ten, final offer."

"Agreed."

And a handshake sealed it.

It was just supposed to be a few snap shots. I was just going to stand on some ledges, tilt my head away from the camera and attempt to look ominous. The mask did most of the work on the second one, and the sudden scream from below helped with the first. We were only on the fourth picture when my stupid conscious distracted me.

Help the loser. It cried. And like an idiot, I did.

I was half way down the fire escape when Ian started calling out for me. "Okay, Carrie, very fun-Carmen! Come on we're only-"

He quieted when I dropped down behind the two men. A teenager was cowering on the ground behind them, but I was too focused on my adrenaline run to distinguish sex.

"Hey, why don't you double fucks take a hike?"

The first one snickered, "what're you supposed to be?" He let the 'victim's-idiot's- arm drop, and the man behind him suckered punched the kid, "Kick Ass's girl friend or something?"

"Let the dumbass go, dick weed."

That seemed to stop the second one. "What'd you say, ya little-"

The heel of my stiletto stabbed into his shin before he could finish his sentence. Twisting it, I ducked back as the other one came at me. My wrist smacked against the ground as I spun, dislodging my shoe from the man. But I was up quickly. Back springs and rolls had always been my specialty, but I felt like a total retard doing them in a dirty alley.

As I whirled around to face them, the first one grabbed a garbage can lid.

"Come on then, bring it!"

I stared at him, ignoring his crony's screams. "Are you fuckin' with me, man?"

He flicked a switch blade out of his pocket, and I'll admit, I did falter a moment. But only a moment before running at him. His legs dropped back in a defense position, not realizing I wasn't exactly charging him. A solid cat leap threw him off balance as I flipped, my feet hitting him solid in the chest. The tin's lid went flying as he hit the wall. Apparently it knocked the wind out of his, because instead of getting up and fighting, he laid panting on the ground.

I pulled at the crotch of my outfit. Stupid pleather, always rides. After adjusting it, and those stupid breast plates, I turned back to the stupid victim.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The boy –at least, I think it was a boy- stared at me. My ego would like to say in awe, but it was probably just disbelief. "You-you saved-"

"Yeah, yeah, gimmie that." I snatched the bag from his hands. "Dumbasses don't deserve food," I snapped.

I must say, if I had known I was being watched, and by more than just my queer friend and his video camera, I might've left the kid alone.

-/-/-

Which lands me back in my English class at St. Ramona's School for Girls. With a bruised wrist and low self image.

You know what the worst part of all this is? There isn't even a saint named Ramona, Ian looked it up when I transferred. Utter bullshit.

Sighing, I let my head rest on the cool surface of the desk. I'd like to say I was thrilled about my new super hero status, if you could call it that. All I could really hope was that my dad didn't recognize me. Or my mom. Or Gary.

The last thing I needed was for them to have any extra stress in their lives.

My cell phone beeped and a few of the girls turned to look at me, including the teacher.

Sister Robins narrowed her stare in my general direction. "Will who ever owns that device, please, turn it off?"

I slid it out of my pocket, glancing at the screen before turning it off. The text read only one thing:

We R Fucked.

a/n: okay, first story I've written in first person, so I hope it went over well. Also, if any one could recommend a good beta read, it would be appreciated. Thanks for reading.