Young Writers Society

Longest one thus far, so I split it up. Tell me what ya think =]

Chapter Three

Wednesday

The following afternoon, as I walked into my one remaining class (chemistry, because it was a B day), I felt somewhat fidgety about the upcoming play rehearsal in forty-five minutes, during which I would be introduced to the other actors and actresses as Sandy. I wondered how my peers would react when they discovered that a Gothic girl with a nonexistent social life had acquired the role of Sandy, especially since Sandy, a blonde, adorable, and sweet girl was completely the opposite of me. At my own mind’s mention of being Gothic, I scrutinized the clothing that I was currently sporting, hoping that everyone else would approve of it. Yet I quickly shook my head, hoping to clear my mind of these thoughts. Why should I care if they approved of my wardrobe? Part of the reason that I became Gothic was because I didn’t care, right? Eyebrows furrowed, I sat down at my desk, feeling excessively bad-tempered. Even my getting the part of Sandy and meeting PrettyinPink couldn’t stifle my feelings about my social life, nor could it stifle the irritating sound of my irritating teacher’s voice. As much as I hated chemistry, I tried to focus, convincing myself that it would keep my mind off of what was in store for me at rehearsal.

“…And I told you at the beginning of the school year that every day in this class we would be exploring the components that when combined and merged create the world of chemistry, that this class would teach you the known rather than the unknown. But today, we will be trying the unknown, and we will not be learning chemistry. Instead, we will be trying a new creation of your prestigious principal, Principal Thomas. Just be patient, it’ll take a few minutes for me to prepare myself to present the idea to you”, Mrs. Lawrence, our chemistry teacher, declared brightly, her brown eyes dancing and shimmering happily in the shining lights of our cramped classroom, her voice and expression not managing to conceal her enthusiasm at the idea. Our teacher was infatuated and fascinated by all things either complex, boring, or the combination of the two, which meant that the whispers sweeping throughout the entire room, as stupid as their speakers were, were contemplating and discussing how the next forty five minutes were about to seem as though they were lifetimes long. I mean, if Mrs. Lawrence was excited about this, it was bound to be boring. And not only would it be boring, but completely retarded, because EVERYONE was aware of how stupid and oblivious and mean Principal Thomas was. I sighed and purposefully bonked my head on my desk, just so I would stay awake. Far from being excited and anxious about today as I had been a few minutes ago, I was now bored, bored at the mere thought of listening to Mrs. Lawrence drone on and on for forty-five minutes.

“No need to get all suicidal, Melanie,” I smacked my head on the desk again, but this time not because I was tired, but because I was wide awake, awakened by the sensation of shock. That voice was very familiar, but what wasn’t familiar was its words being directed towards me.

“The names Melody”, I snarled ferociously, closing my eyes and immediately regaining my composure. “And there’s no need to ask who you are, you’re Taylor West, queen of Ralph Lauren. Uh, whoo-hoo...?”

“Um...duh”, she replied nonchalantly. My eyes snapped open. The sight they revealed almost made me want to snap them back shut. It was like one of those terribly predictable horror movies. There’s no suspense involved, because you can probably guess with ease what’s going to happen next, but plenty of terror and fear. Even though you think know what’s going to happen, when it does, you can still be found shrieking in horror in unison with the character getting devoured by bloodthirsty, flesh-deprived zombies. I knew Taylor was there, but when I opened my eyes, I still had to cringe at the Ralph Lauren-clad sight of her. And even though Taylor wasn’t a flesh-devouring zombie, she was enough to make anyone shriek. Especially me. So I snapped my eyes back shut.

“Scared, Goth girl?” But even when you’re horrified at those movies, you always need to know what’s going to happen, even if it’s obvious, you always have to watch it, and even though it’s not going to change anything, you always have to shout encouraging, demanding comments at the victims. I had to encourage myself to stand up to her, even if it wasn’t going to change the situation I had been wedged in by the currently bullying-deprived drama queen. What Taylor didn’t know was that I had only lost my popularity and conventional beauty at my Gothicism, not my attitude. My eyes snapped back open.

“You wish.” Taylor must have been surprised to hear this, even though she didn’t display it, because usually whatever she wished for, she got. And no one ever told her otherwise. There didn’t appear to be anything special about the girl standing before me, with her mass of tawny corkscrew curls spilling down her back, creamy freckle-blotched skin, frail and scrawny petite figure, bony limbs, malice-glimmering amber eyes, thin lips, and excessive amount of make-up, and there wasn’t anything special about her. She was your average spiteful, malevolent, preppy drama queen. Her sharp words canceled out her not too sharp mind. But one thing sparkled amongst the dullness—a diamond bracelet. Taylor wasn’t special, but the amount of money her family possessed was very special. The Wests were the most powerful and wealthy people in all of Waterstown. It’s funny how Mr. West used to be one of the nerds his daughter now picked on, but with one business deal, he had begun the reign of terror that horrified those who were going to grow up to be just like him. Taylor was one of the most popular girls in school, and you guessed it, she was best friends with Megan Brewer.

“She doesn’t have to! You’re…you’re scared of her!” But Megan wasn’t Taylor’s only best friend. There was also Laura. Laura Anderson. How to describe her? She was kindly and compassionate—sickeningly sweet. She was best friends with Taylor West and Megan Brewer. But those two descriptions don’t entirely make sense when merged as one, do they? A Queen Bee and nice? Was it possible? At the beginning, the beginning of the reign of terror, when the Queen Bees formed, no one could seem to contemplate Laura Anderson—stunningly kind, or stunningly evil?

I supposed that Laura was still the kind and innocent girl I had known since kindergarten. But while she had not grown any different since kindergarten, any snobbier or crueler, Megan and Taylor had. Back in the good old days, when we were not only very small but also very oblivious, the girls, while admired, were, not absolutely sticky-sweet, but friendly enough to everyone, and couldn’t be considered bullies. Then something changed. As we all became more, not only mentally, but socially aware, Taylor and Megan seemed to realize that they could use their wealth to claw their ways to the peak of the craggy social mountain that had begun to form before the children’s eyes. Laura, as kind as she was, remained loyal to her friends throughout their journey to reign over their fellow peers. As soon as words like “popular” and “cool” were added to our vocabularies, we all knew that Laura would end up as one of the most elite girls, but what we never knew was that it would be only after stepping on people, using them like steps on a ladder to make her way to the top with her friends.

Of course, Laura didn’t really realize the bad influence she was having on people. It’s so funny how someone so sweet like Laura was so dull when it came to realizing the kinds of people her friends were. Anyone that Taylor and Megan bullied, which was basically everyone, she would assume was just jealous of her friends; assume that her friends were the victims rather than the criminals. Taylor, Megan, and Laura and their followers were known as the Queen Bees throughout the school, and anyone that wasn’t friends with them, was just a lowly worm. Every time I saw the Queen Bees, I was painfully reminded of Alessandra. Alessandra and her friends were the Queen Bees of their time, and because of them, because of Alessa, I was forced to be this way. Two years ago I had Gothicized to get away from all of this, but little did I know when I dyed my entire wardrobe black that bees are more likely to attack black than any other color. I didn’t get the chance to claim vengeance on my sister, so all of my fury was going to be taken out on them.

“Yeah, that face is pretty scary”, I said brusquely. Taylor, whom was still standing in front of my desk, Laura standing meekly behind her, contorted her face in fury and disgust, her pallid face flaming red. She tugged on her cashmere sweater, and lowered her face towards mine, breathing heavily. “And the bad breath even scarier. Surely you’ve heard of those Ice Breaker things, since Ashlee and Jessica Simpson are on their commercials. Here’s some advice—listen to what they’re saying. They might actually have a point. And you know, that pimple stuff Jessica advertises might just do you some good too.”

“Do you know who I am? I’m a Queen Bee!” she snarled.

“Yeah, and all I’m hearing is ‘buzz, buzz, buzz’”, I retaliated. Taylor stepped back and accidentally stepped on the toe of Laura’s Jimmy Choos, astonished.

“That’s mean!” Laura stepped out from behind Taylor, revealing a conventionally gorgeous girl with a rush of shimmering caramel-colored hair, sparkling emerald green eyes, fair and rosy skin, and a graceful figure. “I’m Taylor’s friend—I won’t let you talk to her like that!”

Clearly the twosome weren’t accustomed to being taunted and teased, simply because they were typically the taunters and teasers, and were never on the losing side of battles such as these, at the extremely rare occasion upon which someone dared to mess with a Queen Bee. “Never say never, though”, I reminded myself. In the couple of months I had been at GHS, I had heard rumors of groups forming, ones that were as elite as the Queen Bees but whose purposes were opposite—to stand up to the Queen Bees and for those who were not popular, not to support the Queen Bees. One was called The Rebels, I had heard, and was the only real challenge for people who thought they were better than others. Not like a gang, exactly, but more like a group of friends that were all together for one sole reason—to fight back. Not physically, no, because even thought breaking the Queen Bees’ teeth and ripping out their hair extensions might bring them down a bit, plastic surgeons and lawyers could fix a problem such as that right up. No, they attacked them the only way they could be brought down—socially. I thought that if I ever made friends with anyone ever again, it would have to be the Rebels. I held back a snort. Yeah, right. Like I would get into anything that could be described as “selective” or “elite”. I’d have to try and break down these girls on my own.

“Scared, are you? Usually Megan does this sort of thing—hey, where is she, maybe at the plastic surgeon’s getting her tenth nose job?” I retorted, now pretending not to care what the twosome said and examining my stubby, black-painted fingernails. “Tell her to say hi to Michael Jackson for me, I expect he’ll be there too!” Not that I knew of Megan getting a nose job, but, hey, knowing her and her friends, I had probably accidentally said something true.

“Now you’re making fun of Meg! Megan, get over here!” Laura called over her shoulder towards, undoubtedly, Megan Brewer. But at this remark, I began to care. I could handle Laura, and maybe even Taylor, but Megan Brewer? If I had bumped into Taylor this morning, she would have made rude comments, Laura would have helped me with my books before saying that I should stop being mean to her friends, but Megan’s response wasn’t irritating as much as it was intimidating. It took someone pretty scary not to even realize that she’s just bumped into someone, and the fact that she didn’t seem to care about the damage I had caused was even scarier. Was she even in this class? Wait, I didn’t even know there were any Queen Bees smart enough to be in chemistry—undoubtedly Taylor, Laura, and Megan’s oblivious parents had signed them up for it! An alarming jolt of panic surged through me, but after a few moments shook myself mentally, brushed a lone strand of black hair out of my pallid face, and tried to remain cool.

Megan immediately approached her friends from the back of the lab, failing to notice the reasoning she was doing so—me. I returned to examining my nails.

“Yeah? Mrs. Lawrence is probably going to start class in a few minutes, so you guys better get back to your seats before she assigns us all detent…” Megan suddenly realized why her two friends were even out of their seats when out of the corner of her eyeliner outlined eyes she noticed some black amongst the sea of tan desks. She stole a quick look at me, and straightaway looked back to her friends. “What are you guys doing?”

“Explaining a few things to Melissa here (“Melody”, I grumbled)”, Taylor replied nonchalantly. Laura nodded vigorously, beaming as though she were doing a good deed.

“Let’s go”, Megan demanded, her azure eyes flashing dangerously. Laura immediately grinned and followed Megan as she promenaded past all of the other students staring at them eagerly to their seats in the back of the lab. No doubt Megan had made her friends leave, not out of concern for me, but fear that either a) I would do some weird voodoo Goth magic-y crap on her beloved Queen Bee friends or b) Mrs. Lawrence would assign them all “gasp” detentions! Taylor smiled as Laura did, but hers was a haughty simper, and as she slowly ambled back to her seat, I saw her hand make a rude hand gesture at me. I returned it in a not so subtle way.

“Melody! I expected more of you! That was very rude! Apologize this instant, and any more of that and I’ll have no choice but to give you detention”, Mrs. Lawrence scolded in disapproval, her brown eyes losing their luster and luminance as they glowered at me. It appeared as though she had only just begun observing the actions of her class, although if she had seen Taylor and Laura arise from their seats and deliberately harass me I think that Taylor still would have been shooting me that malicious grin, because Mrs. Lawrence, like all of the other teachers at GHS, loved the Queen Bees, so I probably still would be the one having to apologize. I sighed and looked Taylor in the face, and mumbled a barely audible, extremely sarcastic, “Sorry.”

“This is the precise reason Principal Thomas…” Mrs. Lawrence complained in an undertone, approaching her desk and gathering some papers. She suddenly smiled. “Ah, yes. Which brings me to the reason we will not be performing that experiment today. Well, you see, Principal Thomas has devised a very intelligent in my opinion plan to increase social diversity throughout the entirety of Grover High.

Taylor immediately raised her hand. “I’m sorry, I speak English. Could you please translate that so we can all understand it?” she said dully, her words sounding more like a blunt comment than a question. Mrs. Lawrence, to my dismay but not surprise, merely smiled at one of her favorite pupil’s rudeness.

“Oh, sorry. Well, throughout the school, as you may or may not have noticed, cliques are becoming very, well, cliquish. That is to say the student body seems to be dividing up into exclusive groups, and lots of bullying seems to be occurring. And since this is a very small school, this is a deep problem. Some students are feeling inferior to others”, Mrs. Lawrence explained.

“Doesn’t take a scientist to figure that out”, Taylor giggled. Laura let out a few fake chortles and yet again began gazing raptly at Mrs. Lawrence. Megan just remained sitting there. Her attention had never faltered, and I assumed she was trying to suck up to Mrs. Lawrence. “Duh, some people are inferious to us (You mean inferior, I thought bitterly), like, they don’t have any money! You can’t be cool and poor, like, duh.”

“With the help of our guidance counselor, Dr. Michaels, Principal Thomas has been able to form a program...” Mrs. Lawrence began energetically, balancing on the toes of her flats and knocking over a dusty, forgotten-looking box labeled “The Comments, Questions, & Complaints Box” (the only papers anyone put in that box had curse words and insults written on them--no one took the box seriously). She placed it back on her desk and continued, “a program that will hopefully prevent further discrimination and intimidation throughout GHS.”

“Good luck with that.” This time I had beat Taylor to the rudeness, but unlike her, I did it in disgust and disbelief rather than to be funny. Did those teachers think that they were being saints or some crap like that? Because if they even cared about discrimination and elitism then they themselves wouldn’t be on the distributing end of it, disliking me because I was a Goth and favoring the Queen Bees because they were popular.

“Melody! Detention!” Mrs. Lawrence snapped. I slid further down into my chair, allowing my curtain of black-dyed hair flop further into my face.

“We will be setting up a program where people from different cliques and social groups will form positive relationships. We have paired off people that we don’t think are friends. During designated times throughout school hours, those two people will meet and work on a project”, Mrs. Lawrence elucidated with enthusiasm.

Laura raised her hand. “You mean you’re, uh, making us work with a certain person that’s in a, erm, different, social group?” she asked softly, her green eyes round with apprehension as she nervously eyed the other corner of the room, where a cluster of what she might consider to be “nerds” were nervously eyeing her back, clearly in protest of this dumb assignment My face broke into a rare and wicked grin. If I was going to be tortured with this entire program, at least Taylor, Megan, and Laura were too. Taylor looked just as appalled as Laura. Megan still remained silent, probably a sign of stupidity rather than polite consent to Principal Thomas’s idea.

“Indeed, that is the plan”, Mrs. Lawrence answered, doing an odd sort of tango to release her happiness and energy.

“But, Mrs. Lawrence, you can’t force us to be friends with other people”, Taylor said in disgust.

“Why do you think there’s a project involved? We can’t make you be friends with other individuals, but we can make you learn to be tolerant of others, and make you form the ability to work well with people that aren’t your friends, since usually we can’t make you work with anyone you don’t want to on assignments. But hopefully you will make a new friend, Ms. West”, Mrs. Lawrence said. Taylor began breathing heavily, looking as though she was hyperventilating, probably fearful that some of the so-called nerds had cooties. “Now, speaking of the project…over a period of time, you and your partner will be doing a project. No, nothing related to school. You two are to complete a creatively unique project regarding anything you choose, just as long as you both agree and both do your share in the project. I’ll give out more details later, but first you need to actually meet your partners.”

Mrs. Lawrence waved the papers in her hand. “I will hand you a sheet of paper, which will have your partner’s name on it. Then you two will get together, introduce yourself to one another, or, if you are already familiar with each other, tell the other something about you. Actually, that applies whether or not you know each other. Well, okay, let’s get started!” Mrs. Lawrence exclaimed, shuffling her papers and diligently handing them out.

“Uh, wait, who’s Shelly Kirby?” I heard Taylor muttered to Laura from the back of the classroom. “Isn’t he that hot guy on the football team, ooh lala!”

“No, that’s Shelby Kirk, Shelly Kirby is that girl over there.” I smirked. I couldn’t see Taylor, but I knew that there was right now a look of terror and revulsion on her face, because I, unlike her, knew who Shelly Kirby was. She, with her frizzy shock of flaming red hair was considered one of the biggest geeks around, simply because she put schoolwork before fun and appearance (that is to say, she wore clothing from, oh, the horror, non-designer stores, and her bright brown eyes, hidden behind glasses, weren’t surrounded by huge quantities of makeup.). Shelly was actually pretty nice, but I knew that Taylor measured people’s niceness according to their popularity and appearance, so Taylor would not be having a good time today. But I no longer wore a smile when I glanced at the name scrawled on my paper.

Megan Brewer

“Oh, God no…” I stared frantically at the back of the room, where Megan was frowning slightly at the name on her paper. “Shi…”

But I didn’t get another detention for rudeness, because suddenly a clatter of irritating bells sounded, announcing the anticipated conclusion of the school day.

“Oh dear, we’ve run out of time”, Mrs. Lawrence announced sadly. “You’re all dismissed, but don’t forget who your partner is, because we’ll be picking up with this later.”

Dissimilar to my classmates, of whom bounded out the door at the mere sound of the dismissal bell, I reluctantly arose from my seemingly safe seat and trudged out the classroom to my locker. Well, paying attention had certainly kept my mind off of the play, but now I had something else to worry about—physics class. I collected my school-related possessions and negligently dumped them into my backpack. I tried to remain tranquil, but with random thoughts buzzing about my head like angry bees, this task was rather difficult.