It raised good questions and exposed some outdated traditions that should be addressed. I’m proud of you for digging deeper, just like I asked.”
Her words are a ray of sunshine hitting my dark heart. “Thanks,” I say like a flower opening to the warmth. “I have some ideas for the next Anonymous banger,” I lie.
Ms. R raises her hand to stop me. “I have good news and bad news. The good news is your article has caused a stir. Got people talking. Principal Scott is going to review the prank traditions. Bad news: some parents complained about an op-ed article with no name attached. They demanded to know who wrote it.”
“Did you tell them?” I blurt out.
“No,” she says. “But Principal Scott won’t allow me to publish any articles without a byline.”
“Oh,” I say. I can’t have my name in the paper, so this is a moot point.
“But Georgia, don’t let this stop you from writing. I can talk to Coach Harkins and get approval for you to freelance?”
“No, please don’t,” I say. She would find out I lied about the cheerleading bylaws. Besides, it’s not Coach Harkins I want to hide this from. It’s Mia. It’s Lauren. It’s the school. I stand up to leave. I’m so annoyed and angry. “I really need to get to practice.”
Ms. Randolph puts a hand on my shoulder. “Georgia, I hope you will still write. There’s no reason to hide. And you just learned a valuable lesson.”
“What’s that?” I ask. “Never try to do what you love?”
“That your words have power.”
I drag my feet down the empty halls of Hillcrest. Everyone has split or is at after-school practice. No Pony, no paper. What do I have left? Cheerleading, my friends, Jake. I have everything I wanted but nothing I want. What else have I lost because I’ve been worried about what people think of me?
I push open the doors to the dressing room, expecting it to be empty. The girls should be in the gym doing stretches, but the place is packed. Girls huddle around someone on a bench. Has there been an injury?
I make my way through (gently) and find Lauren curled up on the bench, having a meltdown. Waterworks on high. Mia leans over and whispers in my ear, “She thinks Matt is cheating on her.”
“He’s a lying piece of crap,” Lauren says.
We all stay quiet. No agreement or disagreement in accordance with the one rule of counseling relationship troubles: Don’t talk crap about your friend’s boyfriend until completely certain the relationship is done. Done done. Otherwise, when they get back together, your friend will never forget what you said and will hate you for saying it.
“Lauren, you do what’s right for you,” Mia says, obeying the rule. “Chad and I never fight, but I have read that it’s healthy.” She’s so full of it. I witnessed a blowout between them in the school parking lot just last week.
Lauren buries her head in her arms and weeps.
“Lo,” I say, putting my hand on top of her head. “The way he’s been acting, you deserve better.”
Lauren shows her agreement by crying harder. Mia signals to Kelly, who cares even less than me, to say something. She looks up from her phone. “Lauren, you deserve better.”
“Georgia just said that,” Mia says under her breath. Kelly shrugs and walks off. We all know Lauren and Matt will get back together. No couples break up this close to homecoming.
“I can’t go to homecoming alone,” Lauren wails.
The homecoming dance creates an insane amount of drama. Trending panics are dresses, dates, after-parties, alcohol procurement, and getting laid. It’s about the pageantry, the dancing, and the homecoming court. Jake and I have a decent chance at homecoming king and queen. Although it’s an open-ballot vote by the students, I’m betting that my competition is Mia and Lauren. Which is conflicting.
Lauren grabs her phone. “Girls, let’s look up the hoes that liked his posts on Insta.”
This is too much. I scoot out and head to the bathroom stalls. Kelly is there, washing her hands. “How much longer will Lauren drag this out?” I wonder out loud.
“Years? Decades? The rest of our lives?” She dries her hands off. “I think we might need to take her out back and put her down. Old Yeller style.”
I laugh. “I miss you, Kelly. Why haven’t we been hanging out?”
“Because you have a boyfriend,” she says with a sly smile.
I look around. No one is listening. “Jake is not my boyfriend.”
“Well, good thing I’m