The Rejection Roses Club (Realistic Fiction)

In the back of the auditorium during every highschool party, there lives a lonely trashcan, home to at least one bouquet of roses. Whether it was the boy or girlfriend of a stereotypical heterosexual relationship that had been friendzoned or straight up dumped right then and there, we'll never know. All that's present is the aftermath, the calm after the storm, the archeological remains of a teenage dream that never was.

Pretty sad, right?

Me and my friends, we look for life after death. We call ourselves the RRC (Rejection Roses Club), or sometimes the FFG (Friendship Flowers Gang), depending on the scenerio. We, a pack of misfit lesbians and one token straight (sorry, Amy), take your forsaken flowers out of the bin and turn them into something beautiful.

And by beautiful, we mean distributing them amongst ourselves and others to impress girls, or just have fun with it. And by have fun with it, that could be anything from throwing the petals at more unsuspecting strangers or breaking them up into little pieces and snorting them (whatever floats your boat, Amy).

After seeing us collect their thrown out bouquets and act feral with them, the entire school knows who we are.

They know us as the group who asked the principal out for a polyamorous relationship (to which she responded by giving us afterschool detention; learn to take a joke Miss Flats). They know us as the girls who leave flower petals in random paths around the school, and sometimes even letting them rain down on people in the stairwell.

For some, we bless them with a spare rose to give to their beloved. For others, we curse them with constant allergies.

Many don't recognize us among other theater or art kids, but if you look closely at us, we've used our art skills to add small flowers on our clothes. (I myself have some sunflowers drawn on my Vans and pansies embroidered on my cap.)

Aside from the flowers, we make other mayhem around school. Ever seen pet rocks in random locations in classrooms, or the pictures on Mr. Sharp's desk that have (unknowingly to him) been replaced by ones of Shrek? Thank me later.

Normally, Holly High is suburban public school hell.

The RRC makes things more interesting (whether people ask for it or not)!