like you until that summer."
"What did I do to make you guys stop talking to me?"
"Okay. You know how every night when we went to our bunks we always gossiped about someone? Remember how much we looked forward to lying in bed in the darkness, gossiping?"
I nodded.
"Well, after you went home sick, we gossiped about you. We made a bunch of stuff up--like we always did--but this time, it was about you."
"What kind of stuff?"
"The usual. You smelled bad; you talked about us behind our backs; you didn't know how to dress. You know?"
I was getting a sinking feeling, because I did know. We'd said those same things about other girls all the time. Not so much fun when it was about me.
"And since you weren't there to defend yourself, we all decided we hated you."
"But that's not fair," I said. It was the voice of a twelve-year-old girl. I could feel myself getting sick to my stomach, like
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I had when they first stopped talking to me. "It wasn't true. You guys just made up a bunch of lies."
She shrugged. "You asked, I told," she said in a dismissive tone.
"We used to do everything together. I thought we were friends."
"We were friends," she replied. If there was a hint of remorse in her words, I didn't hear it.
"All these years I thought I'd done something wrong. I tried so hard to get you to like me again." My words were filled with years of anguish.
"Really?" She seemed surprised.
"Yeah!" It was embarrassing admitting it.
"Let me give you some advice. The next time you want someone to like you, try sucking up to them a little more."
Hadn't thought of that. I guess I just wanted her to like me for me. What a concept--liking someone for who they are.
"You're the worst kind of person, you know that?" I suddenly said.
She thought about this for a second. "Of course you'd say that. You're a nobody. I'd rather be me than you any day."
I knew she'd say something like that. Sadly, there was a time when I'd rather have been her than me, too. I'd been blinded by all of Amanda's surface glitter.
I realized as I hung there that getting the chicken pox that seventh-grade summer was actually a blessing in disguise, because it allowed me to meet Sybil. Sybil would never tell lies about me behind my back, or desert me. She was an amazing person, a great friend. I hadn't been taking care of that friendship--until now.
I looked Amanda in the eye. "I know you think you're better than me. That's what makes girls like you so sad. Your
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reality is clouded by some distorted image of yourself. People like me help you keep that image alive by wanting to hang with you, fawning over you all the time. But I'm not doing that anymore." I took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly. It felt soo good. "By the way, I'm not a nobody. I'm somebody. The name's Johnson, Margotyean Johnson."
And with that, I released my grip on the rope and dropped, plummeting into the outstretched arms of the zombies below.
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Chapter Thirty - three
I landed-- thoomph!-- on my back, atop the zombies' raised hands. So far so good. Now came the hard part. Like a partygoer at a club, stage diving into the crowd, I had to allow the zombies to crowd-surf me across the room toward the door.
I'd seen crowd-surfing on TV and in movies r and had always wanted to try it. How exciting it had to be to be carried away on an ocean of partying people. Of course, my parents had warned me against it; Too dangerous. You'll break your neck. Promise us you'll never do that. But as I'd weighed the options available to me hanging above the gym floor, I figured it was worth the risk.
The key to zombie-surfing was not to light, but to give in and allow myself to be moved freely. The zombies began working me away from the ropes across the room. I looked up into the horrified face of Amanda. She thought I'd given up. I had given up... on her. Then her expression slowly changed as she realized I'd planned the entire maneuver. I was escaping.
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Suddenly, Amanda came plunging down. CARUNCH! The zombies parted, allowing her to go crashing to the floor. As she struggled to her feet, she was surrounded. They'd hated her and the humiliation she'd inflicted upon them throughout their school lives. They saw their