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Tears of a Clown

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by MB Mulhall




  A novel by

  MB Mulhall

  Tears of a Clown

  MB Mulhall

  Published by MB Mulhall

  Digital Edition

  Copyright 2011 MB Mulhall

  Cover Art: Mallory Rock

  www.MalloryRock.com

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedicated to:

  All the crazy Total Farkers

  who put the idea in my head in the first place.

  I know you guys will appreciate the humor!

  The sudden sound of a car horn blaring made her hand jump, drawing a dark black line across her otherwise pristine white cheek. Darcy let loose with a loud explicit string of words. She threw down the eyeliner she was using to trace her ample lips and stormed over to the window. In one swift movement, she threw it open.

  “Thanks a lot bitch! I would have been down in two minutes tops, but now, thanks to your heavy handed impatience, I have to fix my makeup!” she yelled at her prissy blonde doll-like step-sister. Mandy hit the horn again in reply. Darcy flipped her the bird before slamming the old window shut.

  Stalking back to her dresser, she assessed herself in the mirror. No time to take the makeup off and re do it. She’d have to improvise and try a new design. A heavy sigh escaped her. She wanted things to be perfect for her first day at a new school. People were already going to be staring.

  Darcy would feel more comfortable wearing her normal makeup pattern. To her, the specific combination of black and white was the ultimate accessory. It went with every one of her outfits and helped to highlight her fire engine red locks.

  With a deft hand, she finished applying the black makeup. It would have to do. She tossed the pencil into her bag for afternoon touch ups. As the horn sounded again, Darcy took one last fleeting look into the mirror and wondered if it was too late to play sick.

  “Darcy! Get a move on or you’ll be late!”

  She groaned. It was definitely too late if her dad was calling up to her. She grabbed her things and traipsed down the stairs, her heavy steps echoing.

  Her dad grimaced slightly when she sailed into the kitchen. Darcy rolled her eyes but said nothing.

  “Have a good day Darcy. Mandy has cheer practice after school so you’ll have to grab the bus or make the walk, okay?”

  “Sure dad.” He looked her over again and kissed the top of her head to avoid covering himself with the thick white makeup.

  “Good luck!” Again, the eyes made their roll upward as she headed out the door.

  “Geez freak, can’t you even try to fit in?” Mandy said, curling her lip in disgust as Darcy slipped into the passenger seat.

  “And be something I’m not? No thanks.”

  “So you’re not only going to ruin your own life, but mine by association? Fabulous. Well, don’t expect me to come to your defense. As far as I’m concerned, you’re merely an unwelcomed houseguest, an escapee from the circus, some gangbanger wanna-be,” Mandy said tearing down the roads of their small Georgia town in order to get to school on time.

  “With the amount of time you spend plucking every morning, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the bearded lady,” Darcy muttered, her head turned to look out the window.

  When her step-sister slammed on the breaks, Darcy’s hands shot out in front of her, trying to keep her head from going through the windshield.

  “What did you say?” Mandy asked in a voice dripping with venom.

  “Seriously?” Darcy asked raising an extra thick, super arched, drawn on black eyebrow. It was more like making one eye super wide while squinting the other to make the drawn on eyebrow move, but one got the idea.

  “Seriously what?” Mandy asked, her perfect pink lips puckered in confusion, anger temporarily on the back burner. It was like her brain could only handle one emotion at a time.

  “Why ask that when it’s obvious you heard what I said the first time?” Darcy asked. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have hit the brakes.” Mandy cocked her head, looking like a dumb little dog, eyes all vacant and slightly glassy. Finally, she gave a curt nod.

  “Good question,” the blonde said smoothing out the wrinkles in her forehead with her hands. “I don’t have any lines, right?” Darcy blinked a couple of times before slowly shaking her head.

  “Noooope. No wrinkles.”

  “Oh good! You’re never too young to start worrying about wrinkles,” Mandy said as she let off the brake and merged back into traffic.

  “Whatever you say,” Darcy said rolling her eyes yet again. If this kept up, someone would think she was having a seizure.

  The two parted ways immediately upon arriving at school. Mandy practically bounced over to her group of highly caffeinated, bubbly, pleated skirt wearing plastic doll-like clones while Darcy trudged to the front office; hood up, head down.

  “Good morning dear. How can I help y-” The secretary’s sentence was abruptly cut off as Darcy pushed back her hood. The elderly woman’s coffee mug crashed to the desk, shattering in a mess of hot and creamy eye opening liquid.

  Darcy closed her eyes briefly to keep from rolling them. It really was becoming a habit she needed to break. When she re-opened them, the little old blue hair lady was sopping up the mess with about a million paper towels. Darcy sighed and dropped her bag before reaching for the roll to help.

  “Careful not to cut yourself,” she told the stooped over form. The head bobbed up and the secretary’s eyes widen as she got another look at Darcy’s face, but she had nothing to drop this time. She nervously cleared her throat before straightening out.

  “Ahh yes… as I was saying, how can I help you dear?” Darcy took a final swipe with the paper towel in her hand before making a basket in the small garbage can against the wall.

  “It’s my first day. I need a schedule of my classes.”

  “Oh of course!” the old lady said. She sat her boney frail frame down in the chair and slowly pecked at the letters on the keyboard in front of her. “What’s your name hon?”

  “Darcy. Darcy McDillon.”

  “D…a…r…c…” Patience was usually Darcy’s strong point, but the second coming of Christ would happen before this geriatric case typed in her name.

  “Do uhh….Would you like me to type it in?” Darcy asked, her tone polite.

  “Oh no thank you dear! I have to get used to these new-fangled contraptions some time! Welcome to the 20th century, right?” she flashed her big Chicklet looking teeth Darcy’s way.

  “It’s the 21st century,” Darcy muttered.

  “What dear?”

  “I said, it’s the 21st century, not the 20th,” Darcy repeated louder. The lady laughed. A cute little granny type tee hee.

  “Now you see how behind I really am!” Darcy bit her tongue and bent to pick up her bag before taking a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair that sat to the side of the woman’s desk. She squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position. Those chairs were not made for anyone who had anything resembling a slightly ample ass. While waiting, she bounced her head slightly and tapped her foot while humming the tune of Miracles, her favorite Insane Clown Posse song.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Darcy’s focus was brought back to the secretary when the familiar whooshing sound of a printer spitting out paper caught her attention.

  “Here you are dear,” the secretary, who Darcy noticed via a p
laque on her desk was named Mrs. Peaches, handed her a crisp white sheet of paper. Darcy had to blink a couple of times for the black dots to come into focus. She really needed new contacts, but she refused to wear her up to date glasses in public because they totally smeared her makeup.

  “You’ve already missed most of homeroom, but I’ll mark you as present in the system. Why don’t you take the rest of the period to find your locker and your first class?” Darcy nodded her head.

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh anytime sugar. Good luck!” Mrs. Peaches said with cheery enthusiasm.

  Cue eye rolling.

  “Thanks.”

  Darcy left the office and stepped into the quiet, empty hallway. She took a deep breath.

  “Off I go. Here’s to hoping I survive the day.”

  After a quick trip to her locker, Darcy made her way to the closest bathroom. Thankfully, it was empty. Using the sleeve of her hoodie, she wiped off the grimy mirror before taking out her makeup. She didn’t really need a touch up yet, but it was calming to see her canvas look back at her from the reflective surface.

  The sound of a bell, signaling the end of homeroom, suddenly rang out in the empty restroom. It was loud and cringe inducing.

  “Shit,” Darcy said aloud while throwing her stuff back into her bag. She threw up her hood and put her head down before barreling out into the crowded hallway. The wave of students dragged her along.

  Stealthily glancing up, she noticed the room numbers were growing. She needed them to be shrinking. Science, her first class, was in 105. The sea of students had hauled her in their human people catching net to room 250. By the time the crowd thinned and she was able to turn herself around, the warning bell was ringing. So much for getting in and getting to the back of the class before everyone else came in.

  When she got to the closed door of 105, the halls were empty again. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the handle and tried to push the door in. Her head made a loud clunking sound as it hit the glass window on the door. Dazed, she took a small step back, noticing the white and black residue left on the glass from her makeup. She could see the some of the kids in the class trying to get a look at her. Darcy stepped back even further. The door cracked and swung out towards her.

  “The doors here swing out,” said a good looking guy who popped his head out into the hallway. He gave her a big friendly smile.

  She took a few seconds to take all of him in. Tall -although compared to her, everyone was tall- , on the skinny side, but she noticed he had well defined muscles, what she could see of them anyway. His hair was a golden wheat color. She imagined in the sun it would probably blind people with its shiny goldness. There were blue eyes that crinkled in the corners as he gave her that stunning smile. His teeth were sparkling white, brighter than her face makeup. That smile was, without a doubt, his best feature. Taking a quick glance down, she saw he was dressed in a preppy manner, plaid board shorts, a brown polo and a pair of deck shoes. Not normally her “type” but she could appreciate a good lookin’ guy, regardless of what he wore.

  Darcy, realizing he was watching her check him out, felt heat rise to her face. Good thing her makeup was ideal for hiding blushing. Pushing the door open further, he stepped into the hallway to hold it open so she could enter the room.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled under her breath as she tried to slink in, hoping not to be noticed.

  “Ahh our new student. I was wondering where you were at.” Darcy stopped mid-step and looked up at the teacher. A middle aged woman with tired eyes and permanent frown lines etched into her face was leaning against a desk, her arms crossed over an ample chest.

  “Hood off in here,” the teacher demanded. Darcy’s hand snaked up and pushed the fabric back. The teacher narrowed her eyes when she saw the hair and makeup.

  “Well that’s different,” she said, looking Darcy over before turning slightly to grab a text book from the corner of her desk. “Here’s your book. You can take a seat at the lab table in back, next to Chaz.”

  “That would be me,” said a voice in her ear. Startled, Darcy turned to see the hot door opener standing next to her, still wearing a smile. She was slightly mesmerized by that smile.

  “Holy shit!” came an exclamation followed by hysterical laughter. Darcy looked up and saw a bunch of jock types pointing and laughing. She rolled her eyes and decided to ignore it and head to her seat.

  “Did you run away from the circus?”

  “PT Barnum didn’t even want her!”

  “Honey, Halloween is months away.”

  “Someone’s momma obviously never explained using makeup sparingly to enhance.”

  Snickering and guffaws followed Darcy to the back of the room. She plopped down in her seat, dropping the textbook loudly on the table top.

  “Don’t mind them,” Chaz said taking the seat next to her. “I think it’s kind of cool.” Darcy gave him a skeptical look. He just kept smiling. Didn’t his face hurt? A hand was suddenly sticking out at her.

  “Charles ‘Chaz’ Michael Worthington the Third. Nice to meet you.” Darcy grabbed his hand, just to get it out of her face.

  “Darcy. Uhh…nice to meet you Chuck.”

  “Chuck, huh? No one’s called me that before… I kinda like it.”

  “Okaaay…,” Darcy said shaking her head slightly. There was no more time for small talk as the bored looking teacher started her lesson on magnetic fields.

  Darcy’s head spun. Electrons spinning, lining up to make a field. It was all too much. She dropped her head into her hands, ignoring the fact that it might mess up her makeup.

  “Fucking magnets. How do they work?!”

  Her head jerked up as she felt a hand pat her knee. She gave Chaz a death glare that should have clearly been read as “Get the hell off of me or that knee would lash out and up to crush your junk when you least expect it.”

  But he kept giving her that ridiculous grin. Didn’t he get it? Was he dropped on his head as a baby? Darcy swiftly shifted her stool over so she was out of his reach.

  “No worries, I can help you after school if you need some tutoring,” he whispered, oblivious to her annoyance and rage.

  The bell rang before she had a chance to act on her anger. Grabbing her textbook she made a move to jet to her next class. Before she could even get out of the aisle, she felt herself flailing as the floor was coming up to meet her, quick. As floor met face, she heard an explosion of laughter.

  She struggled to get to her knees, ignoring Chaz’s outstretch hand of assistance. Her eyes sought out the source of the commotion. One of the jocks, of course. He effortlessly shoved his tall muscular frame off the table he had been leaning against. He crouched down so he could look her in the eye.

  “Guess they didn’t teach you pratfalls at clown college, huh freak?”

  “Not funny Rich,” Chaz said as Darcy climbed to her feet. Her palms were stinging and her nose hurt, but thankfully, it wasn’t bleeding. She brushed the dust off her knees and watched the two boys glaring at each other.

  “Your folks sure named you well, didn’t they Dick?” she said to the jock who had tripped her. He turned his angry gaze on her.

  “My name is Richard, not Dick, you reject.” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Dick is a common nickname for Richard, Dick. Just ask our former president Richard Nixon. He was Tricky Dick, you know. You don’t look smart enough to qualify as a Tricky Dick, but I’m sure we could come up with something. Limp Dick maybe?”

  He took a threatening step towards her. She backed up into an unmovable lab table. All of a sudden she found herself looking at the back of a head of gorgeous wavy golden blond hair. Chaz had stepped between them.

  “Enough,” he said, his voice strong and firm. Its timbre sent shivers down her spine. Rich leaned around Chaz’s imposing figure.

  “Best be careful ‘round these parts Bozo. There could be a pie heading for your face in the near future.” He gave Chaz a playful shove before heading for the do
or.

  “Are you all right?” Chaz asked Darcy. She ignored him as she rummaged in her bag for her schedule. She had no idea where her next class was.

  “Hellloooo. Earth to Darcy. Did you hit your head?” he waved a hand in front of her face. Pissed, she grabbed it.

  “Dude, cut it the fuck out.”

  She felt the anger seep out of her as his face fell. Sighing, she dropped his hand.

  “Sorry. Just stressed.” He nodded his head knowingly.

  “Do you need help finding your next class?” he asked.

  “No I think I can handle it. I have been to school before you know. But uhh thanks for the offer and for sticking up for me,” she added as an afterthought. No need to piss off the only friend she might have in the dump. He gave her that jelly-knee inducing smile as he walked with her to the door.

  “See you around Darcy! Hope the rest of your day goes well.”

  “Thanks…”

  They parted ways as she found herself running late to yet another class.

  The rest of the morning continued to play out in the same fashion as Science class. Laughing, jokes, name calling. Darcy rolled her eyes excessively. She thought these southern folks were supposed to be extra polite or some junk.

  By the time lunch rolled around, Darcy was exhausted and in a horrific mood. Her new step-mom didn’t seem to believe in grocery shopping so there was nothing for Darcy to pack for lunch. She’d have to buy, which meant entering the cafeteria and standing in line where she was sure she’d be a prime target for flying fruit and other projectile foods. If someone ruined her favorite hoodie, there would be hell to pay.

  As she opened the door —pull instead of push, she learned her lesson, she was almost knocked back by the wave of sound that greeted her. Kids were yelling to each other, laughing at something stupid, even singing.

  Darcy was thankful for her hood and for people seemingly too involved in their friends and food to notice her arrival. She slid into line, her back to the crowd and her head down as she surveyed the slop that passed as food in schools. Figuring it was too loud for the sour looking lunch ladies to even hear her, she simply pointed to what she wanted, cringing as the mystery food plopped on her tray.

 

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