Those Girls

The lecturer listlessly claps his hands twice-we've learnt to take these small gestures of his as a sign that the lecture's concluded.People head for the exit in the flurry,as I look to Tiffany-who still hasn't packed her things and is hurriedly scribbling something across a torn page in her diary.Her hair's typically tied up neatly,but at this particular moment two strands fall out,loosely hanging near her forehead.

"Ugh,I wish I could go bald-I hate hair",she anrgily says-she stands up and begins throwing things into her blue bag,and in less than a minute we're both out of the building and walking to the South Lawn.I imagine her bald-and decide that she might look sexy that way.

''Do you think she's single?'',I inquire-I need not mention a name or explain the situation,we've both visited this topic few times before over meals and so on.For a second she turns away as if I've insulted her,but then turns her head towards me-her eyes dart straight into mine,her face tenses up and becomes noticeably more alive then before-"That girl,is a slut",she says with full conviction.

"You're so presumptuous",I reply-a lazy chuckle follows.I'm well-aware she doesn't mean half of what she says,her sarcastic and often insensitive remarks are her personal attempts at sounding witty and sharp.Sometimes I think of her that way,but I find her best when she's not trying at all.

''Oh,I'm sorry-I didn't mean to insult your God-oh,i mean gerrrl-fwen",turning her eyes upward,at the same time taking out a cigarette from the side of her bag.We pass by a group of four or five Asians seated on the grass,deep in discussion,one of them animatedly describing something to do with Korea with his hands moving constantly.Lighting the fag with one hand shielding it from the wind,she proceeds with the conversation-"Well,I've only met her twice,three if you count that time in the library when she totally ignored me-and from what I've seen,what I've observed-",a gust of wind blows rudely into her face,prompting her to stop and turn sideways,now she's playing with her hair-fiercely pulling all the loose strands into one manageable bunch."Ugh",looking visibly annoyed-"she looks like one of those girls-you know.Those girls."

I think to myself.Those girls.I'm accustomed to the various type of stereotypes people invent-but she could be referring to anything-morally bankrupt sluts?condescending do-gooders?one-dimensional wannabes?I start to get confused in my own thoughts,so I proceed to guess-"Erm.Girls who keep impossible fantasies?",I look to her for a response but her face displays none-I press on,"You mean those girls searching for some kind of perfect fantasy-girls who hope to find a Mr. right?."

''No-those girls.The kind who-",her right hand rises to briefly touch my arm,before pressing against her own stomach,fingers going up and down at varying speeds-it's this habitual thing she does when she's searching for words,"-who idolise the characters from Sex and the City.Well,put simply-they hold a couple of basic principles that aren't too hard to understand."

I nod along and prepare myself for Women 101 with Tiffany,legs carefully descending a flight of stairs.She continues,"They're simple.Not shallow.Simple."

"There's a difference?"

"Not really".I'm not sure whether she's being sarcastic.

'They're the kind of girls who talk bull.Ninety percent of what comes out of their mouths is gossip-their oxygen,basically.They speak fluent French-but only in perfumes and handbags.They're basically at the bottom of the human chain-slaves of the media and modern world.And,boyfriends to them are an absolute necessity-to them,not having one would be like missing a soul.They're fairly predictable,and most of them grow out of it anyways."

My eyes wander to her,studying her profile,body,and finally her feet.There's an overwhelming dominance of dark colours on her clothes-aside from the bright red belt adorned nicely around her large waist.There's a piece of gum stuck behind one of her sneakers,but it doesn't cross my mind that I need to tell her about this."How do you know all of this-how are you even sure she's like that?"-we cross the road,careful not to bump into anyone.

"Well,for one-I was one of those girls.Before I got some brain power and body fat.And now that I've been on both sides-if you catch my drift-I sort of,understand girls better",smiling widely as she says this.And I prefer not to argue with her on this part-I haven't known her long but we've had enough conversations and time with each other for me to know what she's been through-both of us aren't too different-both unwilling misfits,always feeling like we're separated from the world and ourselves.

Her cigarette comes to an end-she approaches a part of the ground where a handful of leaves lie idly,drops it to the ground and steps on it.We both continue to walk,headed for the Law building."You might be right.Or wrong.Or really wrong.I think I should get to know her better".

"You know one,you know all".We both laugh at this,acknowledging the irony.

We cross a small road and reach the entrance of the Law building,time for us to part ways.Tiffany reaches for the side of her backpack again,contemplating another cigarette before noticing the time on her wristwatch.We're both 5 minutes late,time to wish our goodbyes-I rush off to Lincoln park for my group meeting,while she quickly joins the crowd of people on their way to enter the Law building.

Something crosses my mind.I quickly turn back for Tiffany,running towards her and throwing a light punch on the back of her shoulder.She turns around,her face a raging question mark.

"I read this neat quote somewhere-What's past,is prologue.Nice ey?".

"Huh?",she looks slightly amused,but more frustrated.

"You're late for class.Go"

"You're weird,seriously",forcefully smiling to the man holding the door for her-now we're both on one side of the glass wall,she walks towards another side of the building,but throws one last angry look at me.

"GUM",I shout,pointing to my left foot-but I doubt she can hear me.