Sloppy Firsts_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [75]
The paper came out today. I had stupidly thought that merely opening the paper would all at once unleash the floodgates of girlie fury. But it was much slower than that. More like the steady drip … drip … drip … that precedes a pipe-bursting explosion.
Havisham passed out copies at the end of the class period. Everyone turned to the story that he or she had written. Even though the Clueless Crew’s cheerleading–homecoming coverage comprised no more than 500 words, it spawned enough giggly conversation to suck up the rest of the class period without so much as a glance at any other stories in the paper. So it wasn’t until lunch that the Clueless Crew got around to reading my editorial.
"Quote Just Another Poseur unquote," Sara cooed. "Ooooohh … this should be good."
As they read, I watched their eyes grow wide with surprise.
"Omigod!" Sara said after looking it over for about five seconds. "I can’t believe you did this."
"Did what?" I asked. "You didn’t even finish it yet."
"I don’t have to," she said, putting the paper down on the table. "You finally owned up to how fake you’ve been since Hope left.…"
What?
"We’ve been waiting for you to see how the whole I’m deep and brooding thing isn’t winning you any popularity contests," interrupted Manda.
"It’s about time you got over yourself," Sara said.
"Yeah," said Manda. "Puh-leeze."
I couldn’t take it anymore. They couldn’t even take the time to finish the essay and figure it out for themselves. I was going to have to spell it out for them. So I did. Very loudly, I might add.
"I WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU!" I screamed. "MARCUS FLUTIE WAS RIGHT. I CAN’T STAND TO BE AROUND ANY OF YOU. I’M SICK OF KEEPING SECRETS BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO STIR UP TROUBLE."
"Hey!" Bridget said, "Like, chill out. You’re screaming."
I took a few deep breaths and lowered my voice. "You don’t want me to chill out," I said to Bridget. "Because if I chill out, you’ll never find out the truth."
Sara and Manda exchanged panicked, guilty-as-sin looks. Bridget seemed as blank and bewildered as ever.
"What is she talking about?" Bridget asked, quietly.
"If you don’t tell her, I will," I said.
"Don’t!" begged Sara.
"How does she know?" said Manda, through clenched teeth, looking at Sara because she already knew the answer.
"What does she know?" asked Bridget.
I looked at Manda and Sara, giving them one last chance to come clean. They passed it up. So I said the words responsible for the bubble-gum bimbo blow-out:
"Manda banged Burke all summer."
Have you ever witnessed a high-school catfight? There are four universal elements: 1. Hair-tearing. 2. Fingernail face-scratching. 3. Pierced-earring pulls. 4. Gut-wrenching screams. This catfight was no different, only it amassed a huge audience in half the time of the average Hoochie on Hoochie brawl because of the uniqueness of the participants. How often do you see three honors cheerleaders rolling on the floor? Right; it’s a rare occurrence. Therefore, it attracted the attention of the teachers on lunch duty and was broken up in about ten seconds.
But this was long enough for some Tyson–Holyfield moves to go down: Bridget smacked Manda and sent her glasses sailing through the air; Manda grabbed a fistful of Bridget’s silky hair; Sara was tripped and stepped on by Manda’s size-seven Steve Madden boot; and Sara pulled on Manda’s skirt and sent her rolling on the sticky tile floor.
It was, in a word, awesome.
When it was over, they were all crying. I escaped unscathed, simply because Manda couldn’t get to me fast enough. A miracle, considering I was on crutches. Eyewitnesses backed up my claims that I hadn’t thrown a single punch, so I was set free. Bridget, Manda, and Sara were sent down to the principal’s office. They all got a week’s suspension for fighting. I shouldn’t find that positively hysterical. But I do.
Catfights are a favorite PHS topic, so I wasn’t looking forward to providing my in-the-trenches commentary. Fortunately, I escaped everyone’s inquiring minds because my mom had to pick me up from school early for a doctor’s appointment.