by Susan Fodor
Tammy and Jaimie hooted and clapped. I played it up, posing and smiling.
“All right Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close up now,” I said, twirling.
Tammy and Jaimie looked at me blankly; their mother had never made them sit (or more operatively sleep) through Sunset Boulevard. It may have been a historical movie treasure but it was duller than watching snails procreate.
I looked at Tamara for approval, since was the popularity coach.
Tamara smiled. “I think we might pull this off.”
strut
We walked into the school grounds in a line; the wind blew our hair back enough to make us look like a scene from Mean Girls. People turned to stare at me but I ignored them like Tamara had told me in the car. I felt like a poser; I would have been happy to disappear back into obscurity. Tamara and the others were counting on me, so I pushed my chest out and pretended to be cool. My insides were shaking with nerves, I felt a bead of sweat roll down my ribs; I really hoped I looked more convincing than I felt. The girls escorted me to my locker, where they stood around looking indifferent, flipping their hair and laughing too loud.
Julia scurried over to me like a messenger. I almost laughed sardonically, remembering when Miranda had declared a gossip war on Jaimie, and Julia had been the mail-girl delivering written and verbal messages from Miranda. Jaimie and I had eaten our lunches in the toilet and she had put on a brave face but she constantly had puffy eyes from her long ‘toilet breaks.’
I would stand outside the toilet cubical pretending that I couldn’t hear her muffled sobs, because she was so embarrassed when I’d tried to comfort her the first time. Eventually Miranda took Jaimie back, but her standing was always tentative like all Miranda’s friends. If I succeeded, Miranda would never treat my friends like that again.
Julia stormed down the hall toward us; she hesitated for a moment, as she took in the color of our socks. Her face burned red as she stopped in front of me. Jaimie immediately moved to my side and Tamara stepped between Julia and I.
“Stop trying so hard; Miranda’s suspended thanks to you,” Julia flipped her hair annoyed. Even with Miranda being absent Julia was defending her status, I admired her loyalty.
“Miranda’s suspended thanks to herself,” Tamara spat, playing bodyguard.
Julia shrank back, stinging from being on the outside. She glanced at our socks and then at hers, like she was lost. Julia had always toed the line and done what Miranda wanted, she hadn’t counted on the others continuing to support me beyond lunch yesterday. I felt sorry for her; despite being Miranda’s oldest friend Julia had also experienced Miranda’s mean side. I didn’t want to treat her like that; I just wanted us all to be friends.
“You should have lunch with us,” I invited Julia kindly. I felt Tamara’s glare drilling holes in the side of my head.
“Really?” Julia asked, like it was some kind of trick.
“Yes, really,” I replied, “and we can all sit together in class too. Miranda can return to the popular table if she wants as well.”
Julia shook her head in disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” I said, trying to send her a comforting vibe. Having been friends with Miranda, Julia was used to changeable allegiances and suddenly being on the outside---but kindness was foreign.
“OK,” she agreed warily, before wandering off to homeroom dazed.
“What was that about?” Tamara demanded.
“She’s just being nice,” Jaimie defended. “You remember how crappy it was eating lunch in the toilet or library because Miranda was on her rags.”
“It’s not Julia’s fault that Miranda hates us,” Tammy reasoned, smoothing her shirt over her ample bosom. “She may as well sit with us.”
“I guess the old adage ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ has merit,” Tamara mused.
“You’re going to be an evil mastermind stylist to the stars,” I teased Tamara, laughing.
Tamara rolled her eyes, but despite her bravado, she liked me. I knew that she was glad to be out from under Miranda and she was just ensuring that she stayed that way. We were so engrossed in our girl-world politics that we’d missed Daniel sauntering down the hall until he spoke to us.
“Ladies, you’re all looking ravishing,” Daniel greeted.
“You’re pretty hot yourself,” Jaimie replied airily, her face flushing.
Poor Jaimie was so taken with Daniel. I didn’t have the heart to be jealous.
Daniel wrapped his arm around my waist; I shivered at the cold that seeped through his uniform.
“PDA spoiler,” Daniel announced before kissing me.
“Get a room,” Tamara complained.
“He did warn you,” I giggled when we came up for air. I wiped the lip-gloss from his broad smile and he tried to bite my fingertips playfully.
“You two are precious,” Tammy sighed, with an ‘I can’t wait till I’m happy like that’ tone.
“Hey, Tim and Jaimie are having PDA moment?” I complained, drawing attention to my bestfriend’s make-out session.
“Oh, yeah,” Tamara acknowledged, “Get a room! They do it so much it’s like standing beside a locker.”
Everyone laughed; we’d become desensitized to Tim and Jaimie’s PDA’s over the years.
The bell rang and frantic activity filled the locker-bay. I waved goodbye to Tamara, Tammy, Tim and Jaimie before we dispersed for classes. Daniel and I walked through the busy halls his arm slung possessively over my shoulders. I felt like the luckiest girl in school. For the first time ever I felt like I fit in. I had a purpose for being at school; it wasn’t to be popular, but to make the last few months of our high-school experience safe. So that none of us would have to eat lunch in a toilet cubical again.
Daniel planted a kiss on my forehead before we entered our literature class. I had to remember to look disinterested when people stared at me. Some of the boys were looking at me, like I was a prize to be had, but none of them would have challenged Daniel. It was surreal how everything had changed around me, but I still felt like the same invisible girl inside.
Lunch was the worst portion of the day. Tamara insisted I sit in Miranda’s seat. Tamara sat in her usual place and Daniel sat beside me with Jaimie on his other side. Tim sat opposite Jaimie and beside Tammy. Relegating Julia to Tammy’s old spot and leaving my seat empty. Everyone except Julia and Miranda had moved up the social ladder.
I hated Miranda’s chair. My usual seat had glimpses of the bay; but Miranda’s perch overlooked the cafeteria. It was the first place people would look when they entered, and it made me feel self-conscious.
A few of the students looked unsettled to see me, while others were amused or even proud. I’d gone from zero to hero overnight. Other than being unable to eat lunch due to nerves, the day was eventless. The highlights being Tamara insisting to touch up my makeup at recess and lunchtime and Justin Palmer my primary school crush, making a pass at me.
The whole time, it felt like I was standing outside my body watching myself in a play. It wasn't till I was settled in the Silver Streak with the seat warmer toasting my butt that I felt comfortable.
"Being popular is hard work," I complained as Daniel drove us to his house.
"I don't think people realize how hard Tamara and those girls work at making it look effortless," he agreed, with a mischievous grin. "It just comes naturally to me."
I laughed and ruffled his hair. "We can't all be naturally cool like you."
"Hey, not the hair," he said in mock arrogance.
I laughed again. Being with Daniel always made me strive to be a better version of myself, to make myself worthy of being with him. His presence felt like hot chocolate on a cold day.
Daniel pulled the car into the garage and turned off the engine.
"You did well today," he said sincerely. "I know you'd rather be invisible, but beauty like yours should be front and centre."
I blushed, basking in his praise. I leaned ac
ross the cup holders and kissed Daniel; his lips had the faintest warmth from the heater. He smelled like the sea. I buried my face in his neck, kissing the strong muscles, up along his jaw line and meeting his lips again. When we were together it was easy to forget that Daniel had been missing for two years and that we had only been dating fifteen days.
The laundry door opened abruptly, interrupting the moment. I sprung away from Daniel blushing. Sophia stood in the door looking perplexed; the look on her face had us out of the car in a nana-second.
settling
"What's up?" Daniel asked, concerned, as we followed a swiftly moving Sophia into the kitchen.
The kitchen looked normal, immaculately clean and shiny. Mum was sitting at the marble kitchen island, pouring over a stack of papers higher than my homework. The laptop was open beside her, as she compared the papers to legal terms she was googling. Trust my Mum to take on being an armchair-lawyer.
We greeted Mum but she only gave us a grunt-wave.
"Mr. Stevens wants to offer a public apology and one hundred thousand dollars in damages," Sophia said, conflicted.
"Thats great! Take the money and run," Daniel said gleefully, turning to the fridge for celebration drinks.
"The apology will suffice," I said quietly, accepting a can of lemonade from Daniel. Miranda had done the wrong thing, but accepting so much money seemed greedy. I’d been raised to value people above possessions, relationships over money. I just wanted to move on from the whole thing, but Mum was out for justice, and since the court papers were hers, I had to let her chase the event to its conclusion.
"It's in exchange for not suing or lodging a formal complaint; basically he's covering his own butt," Mum grumbled. She looked up from the documents; her caramel curls gracefully framing her face to make her look like a legal intern.
"It's a very generous offer," Sophia tried to reason. She looked at Daniel and I for help.
"Mr. Stevens had nothing to do with Miranda posting that info, or her attacking me," I said. "He's trying to make up for her actions, so let him."
"But he raised a hateful, entitled child, who feels she can treat people like that," Mum disagreed, "and he should pay for that."
“I don’t think there’s a law against that,” Daniel joked.
Mum shot him a look that made him retreat to the pantry.
"One hundred grand isn't enough?" I asked, incredulous.
"It's not the money," Mum disagreed, putting her head in her hands. "It's that Miranda will be the only one apologizing and not both of them. Miranda wasn't the lawyer who was supposed to keep the court sealed documents safe."
"Well, consider his offer one hundred thousand apologies, and let’s be done with this," I encouraged, wearing her down.
"I guess Paul will be home tomorrow and we can discuss it," Mum relented.
A sense of relief flooded me; Dad would totally take the money and move on. He was not one for holding grudges, and the money would grease the wheel to acceptance, if not forgiveness.
"You kids go study and we'll make some dinner while we wait for the home theatre to be delivered," Sophia told us. "Maybe after dinner we can try it out."
Mum was so distracted by the papers that she didn't even object that it was a school night.
Daniel and I made our way up to his room and left the door open as per house rules. Daniel's room was furnished with a light pine king-sized bed against the lefthand side of the room. A matching desk sat opposite his bed, and light pine bookshelves lined the wall beside the door, which was the only place for them, due to the entire wall opposite the door being a window overlooking the sea. Daniel had a walk-in wardrobe and his own ensuite bathroom, which was the only thing I really envied. I hated sharing the pink bathroom with my dad; he was more of a diva than Mum and I combined when it came to bathroom hogging.
We finished our homework in record time and took to kissing for a few minutes before we were required for dinner. Daniel’s cold lips felt natural pressed against mine; it took my breath away to be so close to him. Even when we were together there was nagging doubt in the back of my mind about what had happened to him, whether he had always been so cold. Whether there was some girl who had loved him for two years and was desperately searching for him while I was claiming his kisses. Those thoughts kept me off kilter.
I pushed the vagrant musings from my mind and savored Daniel’s hand on my back, and the way he never pushed me beyond what I wanted. As though he too felt that our time together was limited and to be savored, not rushed. Time seemed to disappear when we were together.
After returning home that night, I lay in my bed tossing and turning. Plagued by questions of what the future held, for Daniel and me, for my friends, and Miranda. I practiced what I would do and say when she came back to school, but every scenario ended with me cowering in the toilets. But there was no stopping time, all too soon, I would have to face Miranda.
lunch table
Miranda's suspension ended early the following week. Her return to school had everyone that sat at our table on edge, except Daniel.
Tamara, Tammy and Jaimie did a repeat of my first day as Miranda's replacement. Tamara straightened my hair and Jaimie and Tammy helped with my makeup. We all pulled up our black-knee-high-socks in the car---like gladiators preparing to enter the arena.
We strutted into school like we owned it. The routine was becoming easier, like a dancer going onto stage every night, but it still didn’t feel right. With Miranda on the prowl, I had to be convincing to maintain control. I’d glanced Julia in one of my classes and she had replaced her black socks for white in support of Miranda. She looked haunted as she rushed out of the room to avoid having to talk to me. I wanted to tell her that I bore her no ill will and that I understood that she had to support her childhood friend. Julia may have even believed me, but she was too scared to even be seen talking to me with Miranda at school.
Miranda managed to avoid all of us before lunch, which was proof that she knew I had taken her place. Julia had been tight lipped regarding Miranda and her state of mind during the previous week, but she would have been telling Miranda everything that was happening at school. The morning had gone remarkably well, which only made me tenser as to what Miranda was planning. Lunch was going to be the ultimate test.
The class before lunch was one I shared with Tamara, whose anxiety was palpable despite her cool demeanor. She didn’t take any notes, merely staring straight ahead; she was going to be the most ostracized if I failed. We had formulated a plan to always be in pairs and ensure that we didn’t lose our cool, but that was not going to protect any of us if Miranda attacked someone.
All of my friends met me at my locker so we could strut into the lunchroom together. I couldn’t believe how nonchalant they looked as we strode through the hall. A junior walked into a locker when Tammy flicked her hair, I had to keep my face neutral despite my desire to laugh at the absurdity of the scene.
Tamara pushed the cafeteria doors open, the room hushed as we entered. I could feel the eyes of the entire student body on me; I did my bored expression. My insides were shaking and all I wanted to do was run home, but my commitment to my friends made me stand my ground. Everyone’s eyes found the table simultaneously; Miranda had taken her usual seat at the head of our table. She sat immaculately groomed with Julia beside her in their matching white-knee-high-socks. Julia wouldn’t look at us, conflicted, but unable to abandon her oldest friend.
"She must have sprinted here after class." Tamara exhaled, deliberately making it seem like we weren’t talking.
“Maybe she’s been here all period four,” Jaimie offered, under her breath, stealthily.
"Boobs out, strut and smile!" Tamara ordered discreetly, as we made our way to the table, relegating the boyfriends to walking behind us.
"You're in Mya's seat," Tamara challenged Miranda.
"I always sit here," Miranda said curtly, flipping her hair.
"Not anymore," Tamara informed.
<
br /> Miranda met my gaze, her eyes filled with hatred. She surveyed the entire group, her eyes resting on Daniel.
“Move out of my girlfriends seat,” he ordered.
In the face of being stared down by the six of us, Miranda and Julia both moved to the least comfortable spots on the table. I felt bad for them, but not bad enough to let Miranda hurt any of us anymore.
The plastic seat was warm when I sat in it, making me feel like a usurper. Daniel sat in Julia’s chair and slung his arm around me in support. The tension had eased incrementally but no one was comfortable.
"So after the school dance..." Miranda began, trying to reassert her authority.
"I thought you lost the social chair position?" Tamara said, being crueler than necessary.
"At assembly next week," Miranda replied, glaring at me in accusation.
"So, you won't be planning the school dance," Tamara informed her, raising an eyebrow. It was painful watching Tamara in action; she was like a samurai ice princess. But I couldn’t resent her, after years of being bullied she was getting her own back.
"I will … plan the dance," Jaimie said, clearly struggling with being a mean girl as much as I was.
"Then we're having the after-party at Daniel's house," I invited the table. "Just something small for us and our dates."
Miranda groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. "It's our school dance; we usually have a huge blowout after-party at my house."
Daniel glared at Miranda. "You can still have that—it's just that all the pop peeps will be at my house."
"I totally think we should have it at your house," Miranda faltered. "I just think it should be everyone from school, not just us and our dates."
"I never invited you or your date," Daniel said, pointedly.
Miranda looked pained as she turned fire-engine red.