#GirlsShitToo

"I am not ending it."

Watching Adree's vlog made me smile from ear to ear. It was one of those smiles where I didn't even realize how much I was smiling until I stopped, slowly relaxing all the muscles in my face, one at a time, amazed at how many there seemed to be (I'd heard it takes ten muscles to smile, but it seemed like there were more than ten muscles in my face working right then). I'd felt so sure Adree would seize this opportunity to shut down my project, to say she had won, but she didn't. I guess she knew she couldn't continue without me. My ideas served as her inspiration.

After I watched her vlog, I marched right into my parents' bedroom and said, "I am not going to end my project."

"Do you have a choice?" Mom asked. "You already agreed to your principal's terms. I think you need to accept that and move on."

"You think I should just give in to him?"

"I think Dallas might have a point," Roy said. "Why should she give in to him when he is being so unfair?"

"Exactly!" I said. "And if there was something so wrong with my project, then Ms. Brooks would have told me from the start. The two of you were originally on board with it!"

Mom looked back and forth at the two of us, before turning to me and saying, "Well, what does Ms. Brooks think you should do?"

"She has to worry about herself."

"Well aren't you worried about yourself? You're pissing off the wrong people. And I know you want that scholarship, and that would be great for all of us, but don't you think that the Hearsts are close with the principal? They give funding to his school, after all. What will they think about giving money to a girl with a potty-mouth who gets suspended for weeks at a time?"

Maybe Mom was right, but I wouldn't hear it. "I was suspended for two days!" I turned to Roy. "Will you go in and talk to Principal Buttwadd?"

Mom didn't let him answer. "Woah, Dallas, name calling! And why do you want Roy to go in? Don't you think I'm capable?"

"I just think Roy will, you know, actually take charge."

Mom looked like I'd just fed her a spoonful of poison.

And Roy looked like he felt bad for her, unwilling to come forth to my rescue and defend me once more.

Frustrated, I tried to defend myself. "I mean, Mom, you think that boys are tougher than girls. You think that I should just give in to him because he's a big tough principal—never mind that he's in the wrong!"

When she looked down and wouldn't look up, I errrrugghhed in exasperation and left the bedroom. Dramatic, yes. But I had to admit: those feminine theatrics felt good. Too bad my guy friends couldn't get away with doing that.