“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” I overheard Jean asking Christie.“Nothing. Why?” Christie replied.“I was going to go see the Twilight movie. You want to come?”“Sure.”I then got on my bike, buckled up my helmet, and pedaled out of school. When I got home, I grabbed a snack, and checked my e-mail.My mom walked in.“Aly, honey, could you watch Lizzy for me? I need to run to the store. Alice and Sara are coming with me.”“Sure, Mom,” I smiled.“Mom! Let’s go!” I hear Sara, my older sister, yell.“Gotta go! Thanks Aly!”“Bye, Mom!” I exclaimed as the door closed. I ran up the stairs to Lizzy’s room. When I got there, she reached up to me.“Can I hold you?” she pleaded.“Of course, Liz! You’re getting heavy!” I tickled her as I picked her up. Her childish laugh rang through the room.I played with Lizzy, fed her, and kept her happy until my mom got home, her arms loaded with groceries.I put Lizzy down and ran to help her as Sara and Alice walked in, both soliciting for a cell phone.Finally, after dodging my sisters numerous times, she turned to them and said, “Girls, we’ve been through this. If you want cell phones, you’ll have to pay for them yourselves.” Turning to me, she added, “Do you know what you want to be for Carla’s Halloween party yet?”“I’m thinking about Athena, but I’m flexible,” I replied.“I think it’s a great idea. Why don’t you go get started on it?” Mom walked around the kitchen, putting groceries away with out the obstacles of my pouting sisters.Racing up to room, I grabbed a piece of blank notebook paper and listed what I would need for my costume. I had less than half an hour to put together.Finally, I had all the various items I needed piled on my bedroom floor, including a stuffed owl toy, white sheets, and a small button with a pentagram on it. Twenty minutes later I walked down the stairs, ready for the party.My mom praised my swiftness in put it all together. I felt pretty pleased in myself for doing it with as many symbols of Athena I could think of. Once I got there, and my mom promised to pick me up when the party was over, I walked in and gasped. Carla was creative, but this was way over done. As you walked through the first few rooms of her five floor mansion, they were dark, and there were toppled party items everywhere. But, after those first few rooms, the party was absolutely saturated with life.I walked over to Jenna, Jean’s twin, and asked her opinion of my costume. However, before she could answer, the irksome Jean swooped over in her angelic costume and scathingly remarked, "Where in the world did you get that? The dumpster?My cheeks burned as I answered, “I made it.”Jean rolled her eyes, and strutted away, but I heard her mutter, “Figures.”Jenna stuck her tongue out at Jean’s winged back. “I think it’s awesome. I sure never would have thought of it, anyway. And Jean wouldn’t have, either. She’s just jealous. Oh! Look, there’s Sam! Come on!” I saw a wicked gleam in her eye and pulled her pack.“Oh, no, you don’t! We’re going to talk to Carla.” I then just followed Jenna and Carla around that night. When my mom finally picked me up, I was ready to go. My arms and pockets were loaded with goodies, and I was sure I would have nightmares from all the scary stories I had heard.When I went to school the next week, Jean seemed to put me down me more than usual, especially around Sam. I wondered what was up. I finally asked her what was wrong in sixth hour and she blew it. “Why don’t you come down to the bike racks and find out after school? Or are you too chicken?” I knew that if I didn’t agree to it, the whole school would be on me anyway. So I agreed, but I formulated a plan during seventh hour after I got my homework done.By the time I got to the bike racks, it seemed the whole school had gathered in front of them. But they had left a space for the fight. I knew there was no way I was getting out of this, so I squirmed my way through the crowd and finally made it to the front. I stepped into the empty ring the crowd had made. Jean saw me. Her eyes turned into slits. Her hands clenched into fists. I stood about half way between the crowd and the bike racks, completely relaxed. I could have been waiting for my lunch in a long line. Jean circled around me. I only stood where I was, always facing her. She lunged with her right fist, and I dodged it. She tried to rush me again and again, but I dodged each one, never taking the offense and trying to hit her. Finally one of the teachers noticed the crowd. We heard the school doors open and out walked Krysten, the ISS teacher. She yelled, and kids ran in all directions. Finally it was just me and Jean, and Jean was red with embarrassment and physical exertion. Krysten herded us into her office.“Now, what’s going on here?” Krysten stared the both of us down. I met her gaze with the expression that nearly mirrored hers. She rolled her eyes.“I started it.” Krysten’s stern look wasn’t enough for Jean to tell her how this had all started, which, honestly, I was wondering, but it was enough for her to tell the truth.“I believe that, but why?” Krysten was clearly as confused as I was.“If I tell you, do I get out of anything?” Jean’s thoughts were only for her own welfare. Since when did this surprise me?“Not really, just your guilty conscience. But it would help in resolving the problem so it doesn’t happen again.”“Then I won’t tell you,” Jean, the always defiant. Oh, bratty bother.“Excuse me,” I cut in, “but we agree that my name has been cleared? Right? Can I go?”“As soon as Jean apologizes, yes, you can go. Or, if she insists on keeping her already completely desolated pride, she can spend an extra two weeks in detention. Which will it be, Jean?”“Sorry,” the sarcasm was clear, and she rolled her eyes and glared at me.“Make that three weeks,” Krysten jogged something down on a Post-it note.Jean’s eyes widened. “Okay! I’m so sorry for wasting your precious time! I’ll be good!!!” The sarcasm was nearly gone, but it was still there, and a new panic emerged.When Krysten glanced at me for approval, I nodded. Jean’s time was reduced to a week and a half, and I figured I was free for maybe an hour and a half. Christie, Jean’s little disciple, would be on me as soon as she heard about the detention.Well, other than being hounded by Christie, my Jean-free week and a half was peaceful. Then she came back. The snobby part was still there, but she didn’t bully me as much. Finally, on my weekend for friend visits, I deemed it safe to invited Jenna over for a slumber party. We goofed off, as girls do at sleep-overs, and eventually it was time to play Truth-or-Dare. On Jenna’s turn to ask me a question, she made me tell her my biggest secret. I told her, and we in the end fell asleep.The next month, Jenna got cajoled into joining Jean in tormenting those who they knew wouldn’t defend themselves. It made me sick. One Tuesday, Jenna wouldn’t meet my eye, and it was clear she had been crying. I excused myself from my group of friends, and started to run after her. I caught up to her and asked her what was wrong.“Nothing,” she gulped.My sarcastic look brought a little more out of her, but not much.“Jean… No! I can’t tell you!”“Yes, you can!”“NO! I can’t. I’ll die.”“Fine. I’ll ask Jean,” I walked away, but couldn’t help looking back.I heard a tiny voice say, “Sorry, Aly. I had to.”Once I found Jean, I confronted her hotly. Despite my fiery temper, I don’t think my height of half a foot shorter than her helped.“What did you do to Jean? Why is she crying?’“Whoa! What?”“You heard me! What did you do?”“Oh, that. She’s crying for you,” Jean started to walk away, but I wasn’t done with her.“Stop, Jean. Why is she crying for me?”“You’ll see.”Then the first bell rang, and I couldn’t keep Jean any longer to explain what she had meant. I stormed off in a fury. My first hour, PE, wasa good class in which to burn off my anger. But, when I left, I was still as riled as early that morning. My day was a red-shaded blur, colored by my fury. I got home in record time, skipped my snack, changed into my shorts and tank-top, and went out to play volleyball with the neighborhood. After winning the fourth straight one versus eleven match, me being the one, I figured out that sports wouldn’t help any. I caught the ball on the first serve for the fifth game, tossed it back over the net and went home.
About a month passed without event. Then, I walked into school on Monday, and everyone was reading the paper, The Daily Thinker. That never happened unless there was some top rate gossip on the front page. Everyone was not only reading the paper, but they were laughing, too. Showing it to their friends, who showed it to them, I wondered what it was this time. Maybe some poor kid had been stuck in a closet. Then, as I walked past a group I glanced at the headline. It read: “Smart Girl’s Big Secret: Revealed”. I was bewildered. then, I saw my picture.
My first thought: “Why?”
I zig-zagged my way to my locker, avoiding the large groups that were forming. I didn’t really want to get a copy of the paper, but I was curious. I only had one big secret, and Jean was the only one who knew that. Then my blood ran cold. I remembered Jean’s conversation of a month ago. The words haunted me. “Jean… No! I can’t tell you!” “NO! I can’t. I’ll die.” “Sorry, Aly. I had to.” “Oh, that. She’s crying for you.” “How could I be so stupid?” I sobbed against my locker. "The signs were all there. Why? WHY? WHY?!!! I was had torrents of tears running down my face and lumps that felt the size of volleyballs in my throat. I went into the bathroom, but it was no haven. Throngs of girls had gathered, all gossiping about me, while they made sure that their “lipstick was on straight.”
I finally just changed into my gym clothes and went into the gym while I waited for class to begin. I knew I would have no haven until I got home. I was right, but bore the rude remarks without comments of my own. Things like “Sam and Aly, Sittin’ in a tree/ K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”, and such flew around my head. By the time seventh hour was over, I just wanted refuge from the kids. Jenna wouldn’t talk to me, and Carla wasn’t there. I was alone.
When I got home I stayed in my bedroom unless absolutely necessary. I did this day after day, until finally gossip switched over to a senior who had cheated on a test. I was grateful for the change of topic, but was sorry for the senior. Not as sorry as I was for my self, though. The next week passed with my being recognized, but I was no longer the main subject of conversation. Then, one night at five o’clock I realized I had left my assignment in Mr. Jacobson’s room. Those winter days were short, and it was already dark. I jogged to school, slipped in after a janitor and made my way to the class room. As I opened the door, chills crept up my spine.
In the shallow darkness of a winter night, Mr. Jacobson’s room was eerily silent. The desks cask spooky false shadows, so different form the shadows caused by the six florescent lights during the daytime, or even the sunlight that illuminated the classroom occasionally. The posters were reflecting the beams of ricocheted moonlight nearly as well as the snow outside. I could detect a small amount of musk, but the overpowering scent of fresh-baked cookies over powered it. There they were, on Mr. Jacobson’s (for once!) clean desk. It was devoid of even his computer. The combination of the musky scent, abnormally clean desk, and cookies, started the shaking. It intensified when I started looking closely at the posters covering all four walls.
Instead of classroom rules, the Six Traits of Writing, and proper proof-reading marks, the posters seemed to show skulls, skeletons, and other gruesome images. My stomach threatened to backfire my dinner. I could taste the acid on my tongue, and no longer had the will the hold my food down any longer. I leaned over the garbage can and puked. When I finished, I only felt slightly grosser. The smell of vomit was added to that of musk and cookies. It was not an appetizing scent. I heard a breath of wind go by, speaking word that, hard as I might try to understand, were unintelligible. I tasted fear, and very much wanted to get my assignment and get out of here. Actually, I really didn’t care about my assignment any more. But the lock had clicked. Then a tape recorder came on, and I heard Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. I almost smiled, but didn’t have the guts.
I.
Was.
Scared.
Terrified.
Frightened out of my wits.
Frozen.
Jean approached my through the half-light that gleamed on her spotless teeth. “Yes, Aly, Jenna betrayed you. To me. Because I forced her to.”
I concentrated on breathing.
“You see, I can do things no one else can. I seem to have this secret sense, for someone’s deepest secret. But it didn’t work on you. so I used Jenna’s secret to get to yours. Why would I want your secret?”
I gulped. “Why?”
“Because, Sam likes you. You, not me. I’m jealous. But, who cares? Aren’t we all?”
That brought me out of my terror. “No, we aren’t. I’m not.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Yes, you do. You don’t want to, but you do. We aren’t all as selfish as you, Jean. Some of us have hearts.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Well, then,” she snapped. “What are you here for?”
“My assignment. See you tomorrow, Jean.” I grabbed my worksheet and walked out of the classroom.
I made it home alive, and typed an email to Sam.
The next day, again, everyone was reading the paper. But there was no laughing, only smirks and cries of outrage. Then I saw Sam round a corner with a smug smile on his face that matched my own. I went to my locker, and a note dropped out. It read: “Look in today’s paper.”
I went and got a copy of The Daily Thinker I read the headline. A real smile crept onto my face. It grew and grew until it figuratively stretched form ear to ear. I chuckled. I laughed. I went to PE with the best attitude I’d had in a very long time. I had my revenge.
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