[Re-cap]
“Uh oh,” Grace said, nudging me. “Look who’s coming.”
On one side, Jake was making his way towards our group. On the other side, Nate was trying to get closer, looking worried and as though he had something important to say. In the middle, making a bouncing beeline for me, was the Principal, Mr. P.
This was going to be interesting.
***
They all reached me at the same time.
“Courtney, I need to tell you something,” Jake informed me, out of breath from pushing in between a couple making out. I always do that, too.
“Courtney, there’s something you should know…” Nate began at the same instant, towering over everyone around us.
“Ms. Meyers, I need to speak with you,” Mr. P. puffed, wiping sweat from his shiny bald forehead, looking as much like a bouncy ball as ever.
“Okay,” I said, answering all of them.
The three of them beamed at me, all three reaching for my hands. Unfortunately, I only have two, so they realized that I’m kind of in demand at the moment.
Mr. P. frowned in confusion at Jake and Nate, who had each managed to clutch one of my wrists before Mr. P. could.
“Mr. Howe and Mr. Anderson. Why aren’t you with your homeroom classes? This is a fire alarm, not a social gathering.”
“Same difference,” Nate muttered, but he left after giving me one last searching look. As I watched his tall shoulders maneuver through the crowd, I wondered what Nate needed to talk to me about. Maybe something about the play. But it was going well and we had practiced every scene; all that was left was nailing down a few points and rehearsing in costume. I grinned, knowing what my favorite scene to practice was. Maybe rehearsal after school today had been canceled or something.
Jake, too, aimed a scowl at Mr. P.
“I’ll tell you what I need to say after school, okay?” Jake asked, looking into my eyes and taking my hand. I simply shrugged, a bland expression on my face betraying no emotion. I could tell that unnerved Jake who left after a particularly noisy puff from Mr. P., looking guilty but annoyed. Once again, I wondered what Jake needed to tell me. Maybe he had decided to confess about the Ellen-and-Leah thing on his own.
“Shall we step into my office?” Mr. P. suggested, already bouncing his way down the hill that surrounded the side of the school where all the evacuated students were now standing.
“Um,” I said, but decided against arguing. Shooting a panicked glance at Grace, Jeremy and Jay, I hurried after the Principal. I took advantage of the path that Mr. P. was so good at clearing as alarmed students shoved each other out of the way as they saw Mr. P. bouncing in their direction.
“Isn’t this a fire alarm, though?” I asked apprehensively as we left the crowd and stepped into the quiet halls. “Shouldn’t we wait until the firefighters give the all clear?”
“Yes, but this isn’t a real fire alarm,” Mr. P reassured me as we made our way to his office. “Some joker decided to pull the alarm. We’ll find out who did it.”
“You can do that?” I asked nervously.
“Oh yes,” Mr. P. replied happily. “We have cameras all over the school.”
I relaxed, thankful that I had told Jeremy and Jay to wear black hoodies covering their faces. For once I had everything planned out.
“Um, so you think I did this?” I asked, quite preferring to get down to the point.
Mr. P. looked surprised, as though he hadn’t considered that angle. “Did you?”
“Nope,” I said absolutely truthfully but wondering why he needed to speak to me then.
“Well no, I never even considered you doing such a thing,” Mr. P. agreed, still slightly surprised as he unlocked his office. Well that’s dumb of him. I thought he’d learned by now.
I hesitated on the doorstep.
“Then why am I here?” I asked nervously. I don’t like his office. In the two and a half weeks that I’ve been here, this room already holds several bad memories.
Mr. P. chuckled. “Don’t look so intimidated, Courtney!” he said jovially.
That did it. Courtney Meyers doesn’t get intimidated. I stalked into the office and sat down forcefully onto one of those acutely-uncomfortable chairs that usually furnish Principals’ offices. I winced at the force of contact with my butt and the wooden chair; I think I bruised my gluteus maximus.
“You’re not here because you’re in trouble!” Mr. P. was continuing happily. Gracious, he really doesn’t like handing out punishments – inviting me to his office for a good reason was probably like vacation to him.
“I have some excellent news! I’m revoking your punishment!”
“Oh, good!” I said in fervent relief. “Because you have no idea how itchy that flippin’ chicken suit was---”
“Oh,” Mr. P, said, now slightly uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean that punishment. Unfortunately, we still don’t have any evidence pointing away from you being the vandal, so you’re going to have to keep up with that punishment for the rest of the week.”
“Fine,” I scowled. But I brightened at the thought that maybe tomorrow I can slip Ellen something else. Maybe a nice dose of…
“Ms. Meyers? Did you hear what I said?” Mr. P’s voice cut in through my scheming.
“Um,” I said blankly.
Mr. P. chuckled. “Maybe the news hasen’t sunk in yet. Ms. Meyers,” he said, looking at me in a fatherly way, “the play has been canceled!”
***
“But why?” gasped Grace as we jostled people out of the way. It was after school and we were fighting our way to my locker.
“I’ll tell you when we get there,” I grunted, getting separated from them as I squeezed in between a pillar and a trash can, avoiding a football that flew over my head. I knocked over a little person who now lay sprawled on the floor.
“Whoops,” I said blandly, offering them a hand, “here.”
The person grabbed my hand. “Oh, it’s you,” I said in distaste, recognizing Ariel. I let go of her when she was halfway up, and she fell again with an ‘oomph!’. I hope she bruises her gluteus maximus.
Ariel let out a stream of colourful words as she struggled to get to her feet, wearing four-inch stilettos. I resisted the urge to poke her, which surely would have made her fall over again.
She finally wobbled to her feet, tottering precariously. She squealed and clutched my arm when she was in danger of losing her balance again.
Letting go of me, she glanced up. “Oh, it’s you,” she said in the same voice I had spoken to her. “That explains so much.”
I smirked at her, looking down. She was so short that the stilettos didn’t do much to help.
“Dayum,” Ariel said, trying not to be impressed. “You’re so tall; do you play basketball?”
I hate, hate, hate people telling me I’m tall. As if I don’t know.
“Why, no,” I answered, “I don’t. Do you play miniature golf?”
She scowled up at me, tilting her head back to look at my face and nearly ending up a pancake on the ground again. “Well you know one fact about tall people?” she asked sweetly.
“Do tell.”
“You’re the first to get rained on,” she told me, clearly under the impression of having said something remarkably intelligent.
“You don’t say. At least we’re the last ones to drown,” I replied scornfully, purposely looking down at her, and Ariel flushed angrily.
“You—” she began, but I walked away after giving her one good poke. She fell.
“Oh, you’re alive,” Grace said in obvious relief as I re-surfaced from the crowd. They had already made their way to my locker and had been scanning the crowd for my remains.
“We thought you’d gotten trampled to death or something.”
“Nope.”
Grace and Jake watched as I twirled my lock, banging my head on my locker.
“Do you know that you probably just killed a million brain cells?” Grace asked brightly.
I scowled. “Whatever. I’ll just grow a couple million more.”
“After the age of two, you only grow one brain cell every fifty years of your life,” Jake informed me.
“That explains a lot about you, then,” I snapped.
Grace laughed and Jake chuckled good-naturedly. My scowl deepened. I was pissed off at Jake and at the fact that the play was canceled. Jake had no right to be so darn cheerful.
“So why did he cancel it?” Grace prompted, looking worried and a bit disappointed.
“Because,” I said miserably. “Apparently one of the biggest sponsors or funders removed their donation. The play won’t have enough money to be ready by December. And the sponsor that refuses to pay is one of the families that has a child here,” I added glumly.
“We all know which family that is,” Grace said, her expression matching mine. “It starts with ‘M’ and ends with ‘cAllister’.”
“Pretty much,” I said, sighing deeply.
“Why do you even care?” Jake muttered, annoyed. “After the fuss you put up, you should be happy it’s over.”
I didn’t answer, knowing perfectly well the reasons I didn’t want the play to be canceled anymore. Well, just one reason, actually. One hot, gorgeous reason…
Grace gave me a knowing look and Jake interpreted my silence correctly. He looked seriously annoyed.
“You can ask your uncle to fund it,” Grace suggested after a while. “I know my dad already donated some money. I’ll ask if he can double the amount.”
“That’s really nice of him, but the money isn’t the problem.”
“Then what is?” Grace asked, frowning.
“It’s the fact that the Ivy Leaguers always get their own way! I mean, if Ellen didn’t get the lead role of the play? Then there won’t be a play at all! Ariel or Clarissa didn’t make it onto some sports team? Then you better not try out either, or they’ll make your life a devil! It just makes me so mad seeing the way the Leaguers get treated, but also how they treat others! Everyone moves out of the way for them in the halls. No one dares throw a party without asking for their permission first. A Leaguer has to be involved in everything that goes on – and not just be involved, but have the main role! I thought I made a difference when I came here, but nothing has changed. They all love Ellen, and she always wins!”
“That’s not true,” Grace said consolingly. “You’ve won a lot of times! Just look how much you humiliate her all the time!”
“But that’s just it!” I say in frustration. “I win the little battles that don’t count, but she wins the war! No matter what I do, her reputation stays the same. I can’t figure it out – do people love her or hate her?”
“A little bit of both,” Grace said, smiling slightly. “Well, no. Not a little bit; a lot of both. Ellen may hurt others, but they will always forgive her because they look up to her. And she’s extremely manipulative, too. She can compliment a girl on something, and the girl won’t even care that Ellen ruins her life a month later because she’ll be so happy to have had Ellen’s attention for a little bit.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I agree.”
I sighed, looking at Grace and Jake. “So how do we change that? How do we change her reputation for good? How do we start winning the war, and not just the little battles?”
“Well…” Grace said, grinning. “You’re going to need an army.”
“Grace,” I sighed in exasperation, “didn’t you just spend the last few minutes telling me how everyone is on the side of Satan’s Mistress?”
“There are quite a few people who look up to you, too, Courtney,” Jake said.
“Really? Then I wish they’d stop being invisible.”
“They’re not. You just have to look for them. Be nicer, Courtney. More people will like you.”
“What does that say about me now?” I demanded.
“That you’re not exactly sugar and spice and everything nice, Courtney,” Jake said, winking. “Too much spice at the moment. Not that I mind…”
“Jacob,” Grace said sternly, “control yourself.”
“But she knows so many people in power!” I wailed, ignoring Jake.
“It’s not just those kind of people that count, Courtney,” Grace said.
“Yeah, look at the French Revolution. The commoners overthrew the royalty, Courtney,” Jake added.
“Are you calling me a commoner?”
“We’ll think about poster-names later,” Jake said, rolling his eyes.
“Okay,” I said. “But she’s still winning! She has more people on her side!”
“Build a bridge and get over it!” Grace said, finally snapping.
“Fine! I will!” I shout angrily.
Jake chuckled, nudging Grace. “Honestly, we just have to get her mad enough, and then she’ll do anything.”
“But we’re going to need a plan…” I point out as Grace and Jake smirk at me.
“I wonder who we should ask,” Grace says loudly.
“Yeah, I sure don’t know who could possibly be evil enough for something like this,” Jake adds sarcastically. They both stare at me pointedly.
I smile at them angelically.
Note from ella:
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