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I stand in the gray mass and look up at the imposing figure of the long-dead headmaster. With a long jacket and a pile of books under his arm, he stood quietly over the winter-covered garden of the boys' school and the outhouse.

It is hilarious to see the dignified figure with bright red lips. And not just red, shiny red, as if lip gloss had been painted over it, kissing gloss.

Around me, the light giggles turned into hysterical laughter. The whole gray mass shook with laughter. Cell phones and cameras take pictures.

Then a car honks furiously. The girls make way for a gray Mercedes that drives almost recklessly between us and parks next to the statue. It's Mrs. Bender. She is clearly furious.

She straightened her hair, wrapped her scarf firmly around her neck and called the head girl over. I see her knuckles show white as she grabs the head girl by her jacket lapel and whispers urgently in her ear.

Then she gets back in her car and drives away with such irresponsible speed that we turn around as one and run back to school.

The head girl's message spread like wildfire through the crowd: Code Grey! Which only means one thing: Everyone has to go to the hall, there's an emergency meeting.

Running back to school, I feel my phone vibrate. I look at the message while running. Then I stand still. It's from Alex. It's just one sentence.

Was it necessary?

I am pushed from all sides and start jogging to the hall with the group again. What was needed? I type lightning fast.

Dr Bodenstein?

Before I get to the hall door, he has replied.

No, you.

I am totally blown away. What is he talking about? I slip into the hall's toilet and call Alex. I need to find out what's going on.

"Alex, can you talk? I have a minute. What's wrong?" I speak as softly as I can.

"You really don't know?" He sounds nasty and sarcastic.

"No. Are you angry about the statue's lips?"

"No, about yours. Your lips are plastered on every notice board at school," Alex whispered.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! My lips! Oh, come on!" I want to laugh. What nonsense!

"Well, you or someone you know entered you in for the Most Kissable Lips. I'm watching guys vote for you now. Congratulations, you're in the top three so far. I didn't think you were that kind of girl. You know what type of girls submit their photos for it? Desperados!"

I want to answer. But outside, a teacher yells that she is going to close the hall doors. Latecomers will get detention, she threatens. But I would rather do detention for a month before I leave this case here.

"There's a mistake somewhere. It might be someone who looks like me..." I can't get any further.

"It's you, Elle, in your school clothes. Come and see for yourself. Or wait, I'll send you a picture."

I sit with lame legs on the edge of the toilet. My head is spinning. Then I remember! The only photo taken of me was at the hockey courts that night.

The arrogant Regard Bell shoved his camera in my face. And I was afraid it was Sneak of the Term! Now it's as if he classified me as Slut of the Year. I drag myself to the hall, and slip in with the last of the latecomers.

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