Willow Krimble could not remember the last time she was so nervous. Her heart was racing at, what seemed to be, a thousand beats per minute. Beads of sweat rolled down her freckled forehead, as most of the cafeteria looked on in anticipation at, what they hoped would be, the first fight of the school year.
“It was an accident,” muttered Willow. “It just slipped out of my hand.”
“I just had my hair done yesterday and … well, look at it!" Shayla Stergus shouted. "Not that I’d expect you to understand, with that shaggy mop on your head!”
Davis Sweany took hold of his girlfriend’s arm and gently tugged her one step back, towards him.
“Calm down, Shayla. I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose.”
“So what! She’s still a moron! I’m not gonna give her special treatment just because of her … her - ”
“ - Stupid handicap!” Snella Burinbine interjected. Snella was Shayla’s closest friend, if you could call what they had a friendship. Snella followed Shayla everywhere since the sixth grade. She simply latched onto the girl whom she felt would be the most popular. She was right. Here they were now, in eighth grade, and there was not a girl in Ginkelman Middle School who didn’t want to be Shayla Stergus, or at least as beautiful as her. Most of the girls wished they had Shayla’s long, glistening, jet-black hair and perfect smile - not that she smiled often.
“That’s right!” Shayla continued to shout. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for her because she was born with one leg? Well, you know what …” the crowd of curious students seemed to be growing larger now, at least to Willow who was looking around anxiously, “… maybe I’ll just take that fake leg of hers and shove it - ”
“Try it, and you’ll be the only eighth-grader wearing dentures,” Razzel Fiora interrupted, removing her glasses, clenching both fists. Razzel was Willow’s dearest friend since they met in the park when they were both three years old. Razzel was always very protective of Willow. Her feistiness kept most students, who would ordinarily poke fun of Willow’s physical condition, at bay.
“What’s all this hullabaloo!” Miss Protts, head of the English Department, barked. “Need I remind you all, the penalty for fighting is instant suspension that goes on your permanent record?”
“There’s no problem here, Miss Protts …” responded Davis, “… just a misunderstanding. It’s all straightened out now.” He began pulling Shayla away, at last, but her eyes never left Willow’s while she was being dragged from her nemesis. There was more than anger searing from Shayla’s pupils; there seemed to be resentment in her visage.
The fifth-period bell rang and everyone, now realizing there wasn't going to be a fight, grabbed their bags and began shuffling out of the cafeteria.
___________________________________
Page 2
“You know, Will,” said Razzel, “maybe next time we’re sitting behind that dark-haired Barbie Doll, you shouldn’t play with your food?”
“Me?” replied Willow. “You’re the one who wanted to see how far a hot dog could fly from the rubber-band on my retainer.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would actually be gross enough to take it out of your mouth to find out,” replied Razzel with a chuckle. “Ah, that witch deserved it. Ever since we started middle school last year, she’s acted like she owns this place. What about when we - ”
“Let’s just get to Music class,” said Willow. “Four more periods and we get to start our weekend.”
“Amen, sister!” Razzel flung her bag over her left shoulder and threw her free arm around her best friend as they began to walk out of the cafeteria, lagging behind the diminishing crowd. “Amen!”
Next Chapter
“It was an accident,” muttered Willow. “It just slipped out of my hand.”
“I just had my hair done yesterday and … well, look at it!" Shayla Stergus shouted. "Not that I’d expect you to understand, with that shaggy mop on your head!”
Davis Sweany took hold of his girlfriend’s arm and gently tugged her one step back, towards him.
“Calm down, Shayla. I’m sure she didn’t do it on purpose.”
“So what! She’s still a moron! I’m not gonna give her special treatment just because of her … her - ”
“ - Stupid handicap!” Snella Burinbine interjected. Snella was Shayla’s closest friend, if you could call what they had a friendship. Snella followed Shayla everywhere since the sixth grade. She simply latched onto the girl whom she felt would be the most popular. She was right. Here they were now, in eighth grade, and there was not a girl in Ginkelman Middle School who didn’t want to be Shayla Stergus, or at least as beautiful as her. Most of the girls wished they had Shayla’s long, glistening, jet-black hair and perfect smile - not that she smiled often.
“That’s right!” Shayla continued to shout. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for her because she was born with one leg? Well, you know what …” the crowd of curious students seemed to be growing larger now, at least to Willow who was looking around anxiously, “… maybe I’ll just take that fake leg of hers and shove it - ”
“Try it, and you’ll be the only eighth-grader wearing dentures,” Razzel Fiora interrupted, removing her glasses, clenching both fists. Razzel was Willow’s dearest friend since they met in the park when they were both three years old. Razzel was always very protective of Willow. Her feistiness kept most students, who would ordinarily poke fun of Willow’s physical condition, at bay.
“What’s all this hullabaloo!” Miss Protts, head of the English Department, barked. “Need I remind you all, the penalty for fighting is instant suspension that goes on your permanent record?”
“There’s no problem here, Miss Protts …” responded Davis, “… just a misunderstanding. It’s all straightened out now.” He began pulling Shayla away, at last, but her eyes never left Willow’s while she was being dragged from her nemesis. There was more than anger searing from Shayla’s pupils; there seemed to be resentment in her visage.
The fifth-period bell rang and everyone, now realizing there wasn't going to be a fight, grabbed their bags and began shuffling out of the cafeteria.
___________________________________
Page 2
“You know, Will,” said Razzel, “maybe next time we’re sitting behind that dark-haired Barbie Doll, you shouldn’t play with your food?”
“Me?” replied Willow. “You’re the one who wanted to see how far a hot dog could fly from the rubber-band on my retainer.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would actually be gross enough to take it out of your mouth to find out,” replied Razzel with a chuckle. “Ah, that witch deserved it. Ever since we started middle school last year, she’s acted like she owns this place. What about when we - ”
“Let’s just get to Music class,” said Willow. “Four more periods and we get to start our weekend.”
“Amen, sister!” Razzel flung her bag over her left shoulder and threw her free arm around her best friend as they began to walk out of the cafeteria, lagging behind the diminishing crowd. “Amen!”
Next Chapter