Chapter 20

Pre-note: This section is really quite long, but it's also all of chapter 20. It's quite rough and I need to go back and edit it with a clearer idea in my head. I also think I discuss Cara's history too much, but I'm leaving it in right now so that I (as the author) know the character. I am trying to write more but I'm not getting too far right now. I stayed up until three trying to write last night, but mostly sat with staring blankly at my screen and listening to my ipod. I will keep posting until I have nothing to post, though, since no one really reads this anyways (except maybe you, Gremikin). :P

Chapter twenty (pg. 63): 

My last class was Biology, taught by a younger teacher whose name I only remembered because it was spelt the same way as pigeon, although it was pronounced with a French accent. When my normal seat was filled, I began the trek to the back of the class, but I was greeted by a familiar face half-way down the aisle.

“New Wings,” called Lulu, “Come sit with me.”

She greeted me with a smile I offered back.

“The girl I normally sit with is sick today; I’m so glad you came along so I have someone to talk to!” She chatted easily.

I didn’t want to ruin her mood, but my smile felt fake on my face as I replied, “I’m glad someone wants to sit with me.”

“Oh,” Lulu said, her face falling appropriately. “I heard about that.”

“How much?”

“Just about the thing that happened the other day... I don’t think she has the right to treat you like this, though,” she added quickly, “You didn’t do anything wrong, as long as ...”

“I told him no.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

“Whenever I get close to her or any of her friends, they just walk away. Besides, something tells me they wouldn’t believe me anyways.”

Mr. Pigeon entered the room, his typical goofy smile spread across his face and his hair combed neatly over his bald(ing) spot.

“Class, let’s begin today’s lab!” he said, searching for chalk although the smartboard was up and running. “Here are your groups.” He wrote names under group numbers along the black board. My name he placed with who he probably thought were my friends, Amy and Chantel.

“Good luck,” Lulu whispered as we gathered our books and moved to join our appropriate groups.

“Thanks,” I whispered back, “I’ll need it.”

Neither Chantel nor Amy greeted me as I joined them at the lab bench. When the instruction sheets were passed around, they didn’t look me in the eye as they gave me mine.

The lab passed very quietly. All the other groups were chatting away as they mixed chemicals and examined them under microscopes, but as much as I tried to make small talk neither Amy nor Chantel kept it up. The most words they said to me were, “Please pass that,” and, “It’s your turn to mix the dye.”

By the end of the class, my feelings weren’t sad or lonely anymore. I was annoyed, annoyed at their immature behaviour and cold attitudes. When it came close to the end of class, they handed me some things to put away, then talked about what they were doing later as they washed the lab bench together. When I tried to talk to them afterwards, Mr. Pigeon cut me off, instructing the class to answer the response questions as homework and hand them in the next day.

“Hey!” I called when the bell rung and Amy and Chantel started towards the door. I grabbed my bag and caught up with them as they started down the hall. I didn’t want to approach the matter directly, so I said, “Did you guys understand the last response question?”

Amy looked at me as if it were crazy and said, “What?”

“The last response question, I don’t understand it. Do you?” Of course I understood it, but it was small talk.

“Why don’t you go back and ask Mr. Pigeon?”

“Look, Amy,” I said, suddenly blocking them off in the crowded hallway. “What’s wrong?”

Amy flipped her perfect, from-a-bottle blonde hair. “I think we all know what’s wrong.”

“I didn’t do anything, Amy,” I tried to explain, “I told him no.”

“No one says no to a boy, especially a football player.” Amy abruptly turned down 180 degrees. She was halfway down the hall before I even had a chance to say another sound. Chantel gave me a glance backwards as she turned around that I read as “I’m sorry,” but then she followed Amy.

As I stood shocked and watching, someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was Cara.

I stifled my gasp as she whispered, “Come with me.”

I followed her down the hall, although she kept a good distance ahead of me.

When we came out of the building, she led me past the dormitory and into the library. This was the building that I sat on top of so often, yet I had never been inside. It was modern, with high ceilings and simple bookcases. The space was very open, with a reception desk in the middle, but it was completely empty. Although there was no one around, Cara still walked ahead of me across the large space, to the very left hand corner. Here behind a couple of large bookcases were some dusty desktops. Cara pulled two chairs together, sitting in one and gesturing to the other.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said softly, “About Amy’s behaviour and the fact I couldn’t walk with you here.”

I didn’t say a word, but I sat down beside her.

“I heard what you said to Amy, about turning him down,” Cara said slowly, “Is it true?”

I nodded.

“I suspected that, the way he looked when he walked back across the street.”

“But Amy didn’t even listen to me.”  

 “If you want me to really explain, this will take a while.”

“I’d really like to hear everything you have to say.” I replied.

First, Cara told me about her life. Of course, like everyone else here, she didn’t talk about dying, but she told me about her family. Cara had attended an elementary school and begun a high school in the North side of town, an area that she told me was nowhere close to as well off as the West end. Her father had been working for a company that didn’t pay him all he deserved for a long time, until he was laid off. She said that when her family had been struggling, a family member working the government building had been able to get her father a job. Her father had worked hard for a couple years, but enjoyed this job much more, eventually being promoted so he worked closely with the mayor of the city. When he got that promotion, his salary increased significantly. With his new income, he moved his family to the South end, and sent Cara to school here in the West end. She had come to this school like me, without friends and with newly acquired freedom that comes with money. Because her father worked closely with the mayor, the information she was coming to the school had been passed along to his daughter, Amy. When Cara came, she was greeted into Amy’s clique the way I had been.

“Amy is the highest social power at the school, and because everyone respects and fears that power, they fall beneath her and follow. To offend Amy means you are offending her entire network, so you will be treated by them all as Amy would treat you directly. I can tell you why she’d upset with you: it’s because you got what she wanted, which never happens to Amy. I know she can be a real bitch sometimes, but she isn’t all bad. The only thing is she over-reacts when she doesn’t get her way, but honestly, I hang out with her because I like the other characteristics about her. She can be really positive, motivating and helpful when she wants to be.”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “But I don’t even know if I want to be friends with her again.”

“You do, though, right?”

I couldn’t completely deny it. “I just want to not be ignored by the whole school and not to be accused of something I didn’t do.”

“I can’t tell you exactly what to do, but I can tell what’s happened in the past. Either the person becomes depressed and withdrawn, and befriends the other ‘outsider’ people, or they give Amy what she wants. I don’t know how you would do that, but maybe you can think of something.”

“Ok, thanks for the help.”

“Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to talk to you. I didn’t think Amy’s act would last this long.”

“I can understand.”

“This school is full of rich, upper-class kids. The popularity scale rules the school, and as much as I don’t like that, I’m in the loop and tend to forget. I never really talked to anyone else about it, since there was never really anyone else to talk to about it.”

“Thanks, B –” Then I stopped myself before I could say Beth. “Thanks so much.”

“Of course, we newbies need to stick together sometimes.”