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But damn, it felt good to scream like that and vent my frustration because I’d been the target of haters before too, especially snobby computer nerds who thought they could be the next Mark Zuckerberg.
Try again, losers. You’re just a wimpy kid who knows code.
But tell that to these snobs. Silicon Valley worships brogrammer types, and they were riding high on the hog.
Jill laughed though, face mirthful.
“Ohmygod. You would never do that to their faces!” She grabbed her phone and a handful of cereal. “I wouldn't either!” she said with a mouthful of Lucky Charms.
I stretched my arms out and spun around fully enjoying the freedom of being the only few people on campus at that moment. No one could see me up here on the roof. It was liberating. “I would never have the nerve, but still, it's fun to pretend that I would.”
Jill pointed her phone at me. “So, what would you say again?” she laughed.
I stopped spinning and looked right at the camera this time. Extending my middle finger, I screamed with a smirk, “I'd say, 'Fuck you!'“
Jill snapped the photo giggling. Looking at the photo on her phone, she gasped, “Mia, look! You look amazing in this.”
Eating another handful of Lucky Charms, I stood next to her staring at my photo. Honestly, it hardly looked like me because the girl there was belligerent, beautiful and outrageous all at once. Usually, I’m a shy mouse, the egghead typing away at her computer in lab.
But this time, Jill had captured a secret side of me that lurked within because everything looked different about me. The brown curls that are wild, zany, and too crazy to tame? In the picture, they looked vivacious and buoyant, sassy and sexy.
The big brown eyes that were generally looking down, avoiding eye contact? Here, my gaze was direct and challenging, as if telling the viewer, “Get a piece of this.”
And Jill, always my best friend, nudged me with h
er elbow. “You look really pretty when you're having fun.”
I stared at myself on her phone screen, hardly believing it was me.
“Thanks,” I said with a soft giggle. “It's fun to pretend you're a badass sometimes.”
The blonde rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.
“You are a badass, Mia. You’re the top student in the Computer Science program, but no one would ever know it because you’re too humble to brag.”
I guess that was true. A GPA doesn’t lie, after all. But still, there’s no need to be a princess. I’m not like that, I’m more of a tomboy.
But sometimes, it’s great to escape, you know? So laughing, I stood with my hands squarely on my hips channeling Wonder Woman, and challenged Jill.
“It’s fun to pretend to be a bitch. Do it with me.”
The blonde giggled a little, but I was totally serious.
“Come on, Jilly. Let’s do this together. On three, scream ‘Fuck brogrammers.’ You can do it. It’ll feel good.”
My buddy rolled her eyes again, but then took a deep breath in preparation.
“One. Two. Three….”
“FUCK BROGRAMMERS!”
And with that, we collapsed laughing, our arms around each other. Because until then, I hadn't realized the need to let it all out, but once done, damn, it felt good, like a huge pressure off my chest.
So now, staring at Jill in Wheeler Hall, I had no idea what she was talking about. That had been a fun day and the photo was just of me goofing off. Okay, I’d been screaming profanities to the skies, but still. What was the big deal?
My buddy waved her phone in my face. “You aren't on Pictogram so you probably don't know.”
“Know what?” I demanded.
