"You realize, I'm sure, that moving to a whole new town and starting your first day at a new school is difficult under even the best circumstances, right?" Brenda asked her daughter.
"Of course, Mother," Stacy replied automatically. She was barely paying attention, her mind focused on the grade school in the distance as the car dragged her ever closer to her inevitable doom.
"And for someone like...you...things will certainly be even harder."
"I'm sure you're right."
"Your father," Brenda said, with just a little extra disdain thrown in for her now-ex-husband, "always coddled you, but it's time for you to grow a backbone and stand up for yourself. We're in a new town, which means new opportunities for success...or failure. Which will you choose?"
"Success?"
"Don't ask me; tell me! Look, all I'm saying is that you get just one chance to make a first impression, and if you blow it then you can expect the shame to follow you for your entire school career. Understand?"
"Yes, Mother."
"All right." The car pulled up in front of the school, and Stacy grabbed her bookbag. Brenda barely turned her head to say, "Have a good day at school. Don't screw this up."
Stacy climbed out of the car and shut the door, saying "Good-b--" The car drove off before she could finish. Taking a few calming breaths that did nothing whatsoever, she prepared to begin her first day as a fifth-grader at Lincoln Elementary School.
You get just one chance to make a first impression, she remembered, approaching a group of kids on the playground that looked about her age. Don't screw this up.
"Hi!" she greeted one girl brightly.
The girl looked at her without reacting. "Who are you?"
The question was asked without malice, but Stacy suddenly felt like the whole world was judging her. "I'm, uh, Stacy Rowe. I'm new here because my mom and I just moved to Lawndale so it's my first day even though the school year already started and oh no I'm babbling please say something so I'll stop!"
The other girl took half a step back in surprise. "Oh. Um, hi."
Stacy nodded to her, gasping for air. "Nice...to meet...you."
"Are you okay?" another student asked. A crowd started to form. "I mean, you're not gonna puke or something, are you?"
"Please God no!" Stacy squeaked. "That would be awful!"
"Calm down," another girl urged.
"I've ruined it, haven't I?" Stacy wailed. "You all think I'm some kind of freak, right?"
A few sympathetic kids started to shake their heads, but a loud voice shouted, "Yeah, we do. Freak." The crowd shifted, and a skinny girl with tangled blond hair pushed her way to the front. "Where'd you move from? Freak City?" The joke was weak at best, but most of the kids laughed nervously at it. The girl smirked. "Go back to Freak City, freak!"
Stacy's vision blurred, and she felt tears running down her cheeks. I'm crying in public, Stacy realized with horror. What would my mother say? Even imagining it made her cry harder. A few of the kids looked concerned but glanced at the skinny girl and said nothing. The rest just looked either amused or disgusted.
"Ewww, look at her snotty nose!" the girl crowed, taking a swig from a water bottle. "Here, let me help you clean up." She took another long drink, then stepped forward and spat a long stream directly at Stacy's face.
The water splashed into Stacy's eyes, temporarily blinding her. She yelped and fell over backwards, then sat on the ground as she tried to wipe her face. She couldn't see anything with her eyes closed, but the laughter and taunts were all too clear.
"Get up." A voice hissed in her ear, and a hand roughly shoved her shoulder. "Get up."
Acting on reflex, Stacy blindly reached a hand toward the person speaking, who grabbed it and yanked her up. Her vision cleared and she saw a slender brunette staring impassively at her. "You're making a fool of yourself," the girl told her in a quiet, deep voice. Turning to the others, she said more loudly, "Is this really the best use of your time?" She tilted her head toward Stacy. "She's clearly not worth all of this attention."
"Mind your own business, Metal Mouth," the blond girl jeered. "Or do you want a shower, too?" She held up her water bottle menacingly.
"Save the water for yourself, Candice," the girl replied coolly, and as her lips parted Stacy saw braces on her teeth. "You'll need it to wash your face when that zit finishes breaking out."
The girl--Candice--glared at her but lowered the water bottle. "You...you...." she said, trying to come up with a stunning comeback. "You shut up, Sandi!"
"Clever," Sandi replied, rolling her eyes.
Candice's cheeks turned pink, and she looked around to see all of the other kids watching her. "Come on," she said with strained nonchalance. "Let's give Metal Mouth and Freak some alone time." She stalked away, and the crowd slowly drifted off as well.
Stacy looked at her savior, who was carefully avoiding eye contact. "Thank you so much!" she said, resisting the urge to hug her.
"Whatever," Sandi replied, studying her fingernails. "Candice was getting on my nerves."
"Yeah, but...but...." Stacy looked at her shoes, still splattered with water. "Nobody ever stood up for me before. I mean, almost nobody."
"Oh." Sandi looked at her at last, her face unreadable. "Huh." She might have been about to say more, but the bell rang to call the students in.
Stacy, terrified of being late to class on top of everything else that had already gone wrong, raced inside. She was disappointed to find that Candice was in her class, but her mood lifted when Sandi walked in as well.
The teacher introduced her to the class, and Stacy bobbed up and back down again as quickly as possible when asked to stand up. The morning passed without any major incidents aside from not knowing an answer when she was called on (all the other kids probably thought she was an idiot!) and forgetting to raise her hand before speaking (oh God, how rude can you get?).
Stacy sat alone at lunch, afraid to ask if seats near anyone were taken because how mortifying would it be if they said yes? She found an empty table and ate her sandwich and carrot sticks quickly, then scurried outside for recess. She found a quiet corner near the building where she wasn't likely to be noticed and leaned against it to mentally review her day so far.
It started out embarrassing, then became terrible, then switched to humiliating, and finally reached miserable. She brightened slightly. It's gone way better than I expected!
She was so engrossed in counting how many times she'd screwed up that it took her a few minutes to hear the chanting over by the swings.
"Me-tal Mouth! Me-tal Mouth! Me-tal Mouth! Me-tal Mouth! Me-tal Mouth!"
Stacy looked up and saw a ring of students surrounding Sandi. Sandi stared emotionlessly at Candice, who sneered back and started chanting even louder and faster. The other students quickly followed her lead.
Horrified, Stacy took a step forward to intervene, then stopped. Her feet refused to go any further, and her whole body was trembling. I should go help her, Stacy told herself. Still, she remained frozen in place. Finally admitting defeat, she returned to her place and tried to tune out the taunts until the bell rang.
Back in the classroom, Stacy stared at the top of her desk. She wanted to make eye contact with Sandi, to communicate somehow that she was on her side, but her shame and guilt kept her head down. She must hate me, she decided. She helped me, and I abandoned her. I'm the worst person in the whole world.
The rest of the day passed slowly, but Stacy began to pick up on a few things while she was supposed to be learning about multiplying fractions and the difference between a simile and a metaphor.
The first thing was that Candice was in charge of the class. If she made a joke, no matter how lame, the other kids laughed. If she raised her hand to speak, everyone else kept their hands down. If she didn't know the answer to a question, no one else dared to offer it.
The second thing was that Candice really, really liked water. Stacy had memorized the packet of school rules and policies the night before, and she knew that kids weren't allowed to have water bottles or other beverages in class. That rule didn't seem to apply to Candice. She drank from it in full view of the teacher, who even granted her permission to refill it when it was empty.
Stacy was sure there were a ton of other unspoken rules that she'd never figure out. She'd struggled enough at her old school, but now she had a whole new set of people to remember and pitfalls to avoid and if she had her way she'd just run away and live in a tree or something so she'd never have to see another human being for the rest of her life.
At last the final bell rang and the classroom cleared out. Stacy gathered her things slowly, keeping one eye on Sandi as she prepared to leave. As soon as Sandi moved toward the door, Stacy scampered over to walk next to her. Now away from any listening ears, she could speak freely. "I am sooooo sorry!"
Sandi looked at her in confusion. "For what?"
"For not standing up for you at recess earlier."
Stacy had to stop short as Sandi pivoted to plant herself directly in front of her. "Excuse me," she said in a slow, deliberate voice, "but I do not need help. From anyone."
"Oh." Stacy nodded quickly. "Of course." Nodding, Sandi turned and continued walking. Stacy dashed after her. "So, um, what kind of stuff do you like to do?"
Sandi glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. "Walk home in peace."
"Uh huh. But really," Stacy persisted.
Letting out a long sigh, Sandi said, "Fashion."
"What, you mean like clothes and stuff?"
Sandi rolled her eyes. "If by 'clothes and stuff' you mean devoting oneself to the pursuit of the most popular and aesthetically pleasing of trends, even to the minute, so as to be constantly up-to-date in one's wardrobe...then yes."
"Uh...yeah. That's what I meant."
"Hm."
Stacy could tell that she was losing Sandi's interest, or what little she'd had of it to begin with. "Hey, do you want to come over to my house?"
For a moment Sandi started to shake her head. Then she stopped and thought about the offer. "Do you have any younger brothers?"
"No," Stacy said. "I'm an only child."
Sandi nodded. "Well...all right, then."
"Okay. My mom usually picks me up, but today she said she has a lot of unpacking to do and can't chauffeur me around for my whole life and anyway it's time I started learning some responsibility...so we'll have to walk. Don't worry; it's not too far!"
Stacy almost dragged Sandi home, eager as a puppy and terrified the other girl would change her mind. "Here we are!" she announced, opening the front door and ushering Sandi inside. As soon as she'd shut the door behind them, she began scanning the living room for potential sources of shame. Had she left anything out of place? Were the books all lined up evenly on the shelf? Was any dust visible on the lamp?
After a brief search, she relaxed. Everything was in perfect order, thanks to Brenda's meticulous nature. Stacy felt a rare moment of gratitude for her mother.
It didn't last long.
"Stacy, what's going on?" Brenda walked in from the kitchen and narrowed her eyes. "Who is this?"
Sandi stepped forward and held out a hand to shake. "Sandra Griffin. Pleased-to-meet-you-you-have-a-lovely-home." The words were courteous but robotic, and her expression was polite without being particularly friendly.
Brenda shook the offered hand but kept her focus on Stacy. "I expect to receive advance notice before you bring home any uninvited guests, Stacy."
"Oh no! I'm so sorry. I didn't think--"
"Yes, that's the problem," Brenda cut her off. "You didn't think. You never do, do you?"
"No, Mother."
Brenda finally glanced at Sandi and forced a smile onto her face. It didn't seem to belong there. "Now look at what you've done, Stacy. You've made our guest uncomfortable."
"Sorry, Mother. Sorry, Sandi."
"No apologies needed," Sandi replied with just a tiny bit of extra emphasis.
"Anyway, I have work to do," Brenda said. "Try not to cause any further trouble." She turned around and headed back to the kitchen.
"Let's go up to my room," Stacy suggested in a quiet voice. "We won't bother anybody there."
Sandi followed her up the stairs. "Is she always like that?" she asked.
Stacy didn't answer right away. Finally, after they had reached her room, she said, "She just wants me to be the best I can be."
"It's for your own good," Sandi muttered, so quietly Stacy almost didn't catch it. Louder, she asked, "Where's your dad? At work?"
Stacy shook her head. "My parents got divorced earlier this year."
"Oh. Uh, sorry."
Shrugging, Stacy replied, "It's okay. It's no big deal. It's...it's...not okay! It is a big deal!"
"Huh?" Sandi jumped, startled, when Stacy burst into tears.
"It's--sob--all my fault! I'm the reason they--sniff--got divorced! I'm so, so stupid!" She threw herself onto her bed and buried her face in a pillow.
Sandi awkwardly reached out and patted Stacy a couple of times on the back. "Um, it's going to be all right?"
Stacy, still crying, just let out a long but muffled wail. After a few minutes of anguished crying, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry," she said in a shaky voice. "It's just...just...." Her lips quivered a little, but she didn't start crying again. Instead, words tumbled out at a rapid pace. "My parents were always fighting about me because I make a lot of mistakes, well, like you saw at school where I kept saying the wrong thing or doing something stupid, and my mother pushes me really hard because she has high standards but I never live up to them because she's super smart and I'm just dumb and she means well but my dad would always take my side and then they'd fight even more until finally they just split up and if I wasn't so useless they'd still be married so it's all my fault!"
Sandi froze in place, stunned by the massive avalanche of words that had just poured over her.
Meanwhile, Stacy clapped both hands to her mouth. "Oh, God, I can't believe I just said all that out loud. You must think I'm a total--"
"I wish my parents would get a divorce," Sandi said. Her voice was low but full of venom. " My dad's a wimp, so he'd never take my side. They don't even fight, though. My mom just bosses him around. Bosses all of us around, except my brothers because she just pretends they don't exist. And, yeah, she has high standards for me, too. 'For my own good.'"
Stacy slowly lowered her hands. "Really?" she breathed. "I had no idea."
"Why would you?" Sandi asked, frowning. "We just met today."
"I know, but...I never met anyone who had a mother like mine. I'm sorry about your dad, though. He should stand up for you." Sandi shrugged, avoiding eye contact. The silence filled the room, making Stacy uneasy. "Hey, you want to see my animals?"
If Sandi was startled by the abrupt shift, she didn't show it. "Sure."
Stacy crossed the room to a shelf filled with glass animals. "I collect them," she said. "You can pick them up and look at them and stuff if you want; just be careful because they're really fragile." She gently brushed her fingers along the tops of a few of them, her expression softening as she looked at her treasures. "This one is my favorite," she continued, picking up a lion and holding it out for Sandi to see. "My dad gave it to me. It reminds me of that story from Aesop's Fables."
"The one with the thorn?" Sandi asked, trying to remember.
Stacy shook her head. "Not that one. My dad used to read them to me before bed every night, and there's one where a lion catches a mouse but lets it go. Then, later, the lion gets caught by hunters and the mouse chews through the net and saves him." She set the lion back on the shelf. "It's kind of like you and me."
Sandi nodded absently, then blinked. "What?"
Staring down at her feet, Stacy explained, "You saved me at school today, just like the lion saved the mouse. But I didn't save you."
"Technically the lion didn't save the mouse. He just didn't eat it."
"Still," Stacy said stubbornly. "I should have--"
"--I already told you, I don't need you or anyone else to fight my battles for me."
Stacy nodded eagerly. "Oh, I know. But I'm going to repay the favor, I promise!"
"Whatever." Sandi continued to gaze at the animals. Then she said, "You know, the only reason they picked on you so much is because you cried."
"Really?" Stacy looked surprised. "Is that such a bad thing?"
Sandi raised an eyebrow. "At school, crying is not done. It's the gravest popularity sin you can commit."
"Oh, there's worse," Stacy said quietly.
"Such as?"
Stacy darted a brief glance at Sandi, then looked away again just as quickly. "Um...." She paused, biting her lip.
"Don't keep me in suspense."
"One time at my previous school I had to go to the bathroom really bad but the teacher didn't notice I had my hand up for a super long time and by the time she called on me it was, uh, too late."
"You mean you...."
"Wet my pants in front of the whole class," Stacy muttered, her face bright pink from scalp to chin. "It was so humiliating, I just wanted to die."
"Okay, you win. That is the worst possible popularity sin you could commit."
"Please don't tell anyone!" Stacy pleaded.
Sandi shrugged. "Whom would I tell? We're both at the bottom of the heap at school."
Stacy couldn't hide a small smile. "But at least we're down there together now."
"Yeah." Sandi didn't sound cheered by the thought. "Great."
"How do you do it?" Stacy asked. "When they picked on me, I fell apart. But you were so...so...strong." She looked at her glass animals. "Like a lion."
"Lioness," Sandi corrected, letting just the hint of a smirk play on her lips. "And I do it by standing firm and refusing to react. If I must respond, I hold my head up and speak with confidence. Crumbling only makes things worse, but if they see you won't back down then they'll let up." She glanced away. "Usually."
"That makes sense," Stacy said, thinking over Sandi's advice. "Thanks."
"No problem. Any other questions?"
Stacy nodded. "Actually, yes. Why is Candice popular? I mean, she's not funny or smart or cute or well-dressed or anything. So why?"
Sandi scowled. "Fear."
"Huh?"
"Everyone's afraid of her. See, back at the start of the year she started bringing that water bottle in with her. The teacher told her she couldn't have it at her desk, like, right off the bat."
"I wondered how she got away with that! I read the rules; why does she get to keep it?"
"Her dad went straight to the school board with some excuse about health accommodations and the importance of hydration and they made an exception for her. He really let them have it, too. Threatening lawsuits and shouting and the whole works. I think they gave in just to shut him up."
"How do you know about it?"
"My mom is on the school board. And every other organization in town except maybe the Asian-American Women in Education's Caucus. And even then she'd probably find a way. Anyway, Candice claimed that she blackmailed the teacher into caving, and the other kids were so impressed they let her get away with whatever she wanted. She's been riding that wave ever since."
"Wow." Stacy let the story sink in. "Candice is kind of a...you know...starts with a 'b'."
"Bitch."
Stacy gasped. "I meant bully!" She looked around like she was expecting the swearing police to burst in on them.
Sandi shrugged. "We're both right. Just remember: stand firm."
Stand firm, Stacy told herself as she approached the school playground the next morning. Stand firm. Stand firm. Stand fi--
"Hey, look! The freak is back!" It had only been twenty-four hours since they'd met, but Stacy already recognized that voice.
"Hello, Candice," she said, trying to sound like Sandi. She remembered her mother's constant reminders about posture and straightened her back.
"Are you gonna cry again, freak?"
"No." Even with a single syllable, Stacy's shaking voice was obvious. Come on, be fearless!
"Yeah, right. I bet you a dollar I can make you cry in less than a minute."
Stacy didn't reply. Instead she tilted her chin up in the same way Sandi had the previous day when the kids were taunting her. Don't react. Whatever she says, just don't react.
"How come you started in the middle of the year, freak? Did you get kicked out of your last school for being a crybaby?"
Lips pressed together, Stacy shook her head. Why won't the bell just ring already?
"Yeah, that's probably it. We don't like crybabies at our school, either!"
Stacy felt close to breaking, but also proud that she'd held out so far. She just crossed her arms to show Candice that she didn't care.
"No tears yet, huh? Well, I can fix that!" Candice squeezed a bit of water out of her bottle into her palm, then flicked it at Stacy's face. The drops hit her cheeks, making her flinch. "Ha! I did it!"
Furious, Stacy stomped one foot. "That doesn't count!" she howled, forgetting that she wasn't supposed to react. "I'm not crying!" But even as she said the words, her face began to burn and her eyes stung. Real tears mingled with the water on her face.
"You owe me a dollar, freak!" Candice hooted, taking a celebratory swig. "Pay up!"
"What do you need a dollar for?" Sandi asked, coming to stand next to Stacy. "Are you starting a collection to fix your frizzy hair? I'll pitch in." She reached into her pocket, pulled out a quarter, and flicked it in Candice's direction. It bounced off her shoulder and rolled away, leaving Candice glaring.
"Butt out, Metal Mouth," she grumbled.
"Speaking of butts, have you seen yours lately?" Sandi asked. "Oh, wait, stupid question. Who could miss anything that big?"
Stacy looked at Sandi with awe. Sandi caught her eye and tilted her head very slightly away, signaling that she should go.
"Oh, you are going to regret that, brace-face," Candice said, her attention now fully on Sandi.
Stacy took advantage of the distraction to slip away. She hid behind the slide until the bell rang, at which point she raced to catch up with Sandi as they went into the school. "Thanks...again," she said, relief and gratitude mingling with shame at her failure. "I did try to stand firm," she added weakly.
"Not very hard," Sandi pointed out.
"I...well, no," Stacy admitted. "It's just so difficult!"
"Obviously, or else everybody would do it and kids like Candice wouldn't exist."
"I wish Candice didn't exist," Stacy muttered bitterly. She covered her mouth with one hand, shocked at her own words.
"And yet she does, and that's the reality we have to live with," Sandi replied. "Either learn to deal with her or get used to being treated like garbage."
"But what if I can't learn to deal with her?" Stacy whimpered. "What if I just keep letting her get to me and calling me names and making me cry and oh God I can't live like that I just can't I'd rather die--"
"STOP!" Sandi turned to glare at Stacy, who wilted immediately and stopped babbling. "That's exactly why Candice keeps picking on you."
"But she picks on you too," Stacy said, then winced. "Uh, sorry."
"Don't apologize," Sandi said with a shrug. "It's true. But not nearly as much as she picks on you. Or at least, not anymore." She smirked. "Perhaps I should thank you for taking the focus off me."
"No problem," Stacy muttered, then smiled. "Hey, so we do need each other!"
"We do not," Sandi insisted.
"Yeah, but think about it! We could work together to take down Candice! We'd make a great team!"
Sandi snorted. "Unlikely."
"Think about it, okay?" Stacy asked as they entered the classroom.
"Uh huh." Sandi's face made it clear she would do nothing of the kind.
Stacy, however, could think about nothing else the entire morning. She heard the snickers when she told the teacher that the Declaration of Independence was signed in 1492 and named Mount Rushmore as a famous natural landmark, but didn't care. She was plotting.
"Listen," she said as she pulled Sandi aside at recess. "I've got the perfect plan. It's completely foolproof!"
"I doubt it," Sandi replied, but waited patiently for Stacy to elaborate.
"So I've heard that bullies are secretly lonely and just want someone to be their friend."
"Heard where?" Sandi asked dubiously.
Stacy shrugged. "I don't know. Somewhere. So my plan is that we invite Candice over to my house...." She paused. "Or maybe your house would be better, but either way we invite her over and totally kill her with kindness. What do you think?"
"I think it would be more efficient to simply kill her."
"You don't understand. It'll be two against one! We'll make a united front and talk things out with her and she'll either back down or join us! Then the other kids will see that we're not enemies and the whole class will come together as one--"
"--and sing 'Kumbaya'?" Sandi asked with a small sneer.
"Okay, so maybe it won't be quite that easy, but I bet if we get Candice alone, away from the crowd, she'll be easier to deal with. It's a start, right?" Stacy's eyes grew wide and she looked pleadingly at Sandi. "Pleeeeease?"
Sandi sighed. "Fine. We'll invite her over to my house. If she accepts--which she won't--then at least we can sic my brothers on her if things go south."
"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Stacy cheered, bouncing up and down. At last, I'm doing something useful! "Come on, let's go ask her right now!" She grabbed Sandi's wrist and dragged her across the playground.
"I'm already regretting this," Sandi muttered.
"Candice!" Stacy said, excitement giving her a boost of courage. "We have something to ask you!"
"Is it whether or not you're still a freak?" Candice asked bluntly. "Because the answer is yes."
Stacy giggled nervously. "No, we wanted to ask if you'd like to come over to Sandi's house after school and hang out with us."
Candice stared at her, shocked briefly into silence. "Why the heck would I want to do that?" she asked at last. "I might catch whatever weirdness cooties you two have."
"It would only be an improvement over the idiot syndrome you seem to be suffering from," Sandi shot back.
Stacy nudged her. "Be nice," she whispered. "We're trying to win her over!"
Sandi just rolled her eyes.
"What's your deal?" Candice asked Stacy suspiciously. "Why do you want me to come over, anyway?"
"It's just...." Stacy's bravery began to falter. "I thought--I mean, we thought that you might want to make friends."
"Friends? With you?" Candice almost choked on the sip of water she'd just taken. "I'd rather throw myself in front of a truck."
"Want some help with that?" Sandi asked in an undertone.
"But...friends might make you...don't you want to...what if we...." Stacy trailed off, and realized with horror that her eyes were starting to tear up.
"Ha! Crybaby strikes again!" Candice crowed, pointing a finger at Stacy's damp cheeks.
The situation was spiraling away from the idea Stacy had seen in her head. "Stop being so mean!" she shouted, then whirled around and ran as fast as she could.
"Go on, freak! Run!" Candice yelled after her. "You'd better go after her, Metal Mouth!"
Stacy lost track of what she was doing and where she was going. The next thing she was aware of was crouching behind a car in the teacher's parking lot, shaking and sobbing.
"Stacy?" It was Sandi, and her voice was coming from nearby.
"Over here," Stacy croaked, sniffling hard and swiping at her still-damp eyes.
Sandi's head craned around the car. "What are you doing?"
"Crying," Stacy said.
"Clearly." Sandi took a few steps closer. "What I mean is, why did you give up? What happened to being a united front? Candice is going to be hassling me double for weeks thanks to you!"
"I'm sorr--"
"No, don't apologize to me. We had a plan. You had a plan. What happened to it?"
"I was wrong," Stacy whispered, but Sandi heard her anyway.
"I could have told you that. What I don't know," she continued, her voice getting angrier, "is why I let you talk me into going along with it. Of course this wound up being a disaster. And now I'm going to be paying for it."
"It's not like you helped!" Stacy's frustration kicked in, letting her say things she normally wouldn't even allow herself to think. "You and your snide comments! We were trying to make friends!"
"I never wanted Candice for a friend," Sandi snapped. "I never wanted any friends, for that matter."
"Including me?"
"Especially you. Friends only make you weak, and you're the weakest person I've ever met."
Stacy looked at her in horror. "But I thought that you...and me...."
"Forget it. If you're so determined to be Candice's favorite victim then go wet your pants or something. I'm done fighting all your battles for you." With that, Sandi turned and stalked away.
When the bell rang, Stacy considered just staying where she was. What's the point of going in? No one likes you, and they wouldn't miss you if you never returned. In the end, the thought of her mother's wrath if she found out Stacy had skipped school forced her back into the building.
Stacy spent the rest of the school day trying to get Sandi's attention, but it was all wasted effort. No matter how often she waved, leaned, or whispered, Sandi just stared straight ahead without reacting. When the teacher began to get suspicious, Stacy gave up and decided to wait for a better opportunity.
At lunch, Stacy made a beeline for the table where Sandi was sitting, but the moment she sat down Sandi sprang up like they were on a see-saw. Stacy only had time to say, "Sandi, please--" before Sandi was gone.
Her last chance was after school, as the kids waited to be picked up. She crept up behind Sandi, who was distracted as she tried to keep two overactive little boys--her brothers, presumably--from tearing each other apart. As soon as she was close enough she began speaking fast so Sandi wouldn't have time to leave without hearing her. "I'm sorry you're right I won't do it ever again please say we can still be friends!"
Sandi turned and looked at Stacy for the first time since their argument. For just a moment Stacy thought she was going to say something, but then a car honked. Sandi turned back around, opened the car door, and chucked her brothers in before climbing in herself and closing the door. As the car began to drive away, Stacy strained to see through the tinted windows, but saw nothing but her own miserable reflection.
She stood there, not moving, until her mother's car pulled up. "I don't have all day!" her mother called through the open window. Stacy mechanically got into the backseat.
Brenda glanced in the rearview mirror as she pulled away from the school and caught sight of Stacy's face. "What's that on your face? Are you crying?"
Stacy put a hand to her cheek and found it was wet. Again. "Um...yes."
"For the love of--why are you crying this time?"
Slouching down in her seat, Stacy replied, "I had a fight with a friend."
"You have a friend?" Brenda asked, surprised. She looked at her daughter in the rearview mirror and added, "Sit up straight!"
Stacy sat up and nodded. "I did have a friend. Not anymore. Now she's mad at me."
"What did you do?"
"I came up with this idea and it didn't work. She said it was my fault." Stacy resisted the urge to slide back down in her seat. "She's probably right."
"Of course she's right," Brenda replied matter-of-factly. "Since when are you the type of person who comes up with ideas?" She shook her head. "No, Stacy, that's not one of your strengths. Some people are born leaders. You, however, are a born follower."
Stacy said nothing, but her mother's words made sense. I should have known better than to trust my own judgment.
That night, Stacy picked at her dinner as usual and then asked to be excused to make a phone call. "Make it quick," Brenda instructed her.
Stacy looked up the Griffins' phone number and dialed it before she could lose her nerve. An older-sounding version of Sandi answered. "Hello?"
"Hi, is Sandi there? This is Stacy. Stacy Rowe, in case she knows more than one Sta--"
"She's not home right now. May I take a message?"
"She's not?" Stacy couldn't imagine where Sandi would be on a school night, so she concluded that she was avoiding her. "No. No message. Thank you." She hung up and trudged to her room. Once upstairs, she gazed at her glass animals and wished--not for the first time--that they were alive. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, Stacy mused. In fact, it was nice to have someone to talk to. While it lasted.
The doorbell rang. Stacy hesitated, knowing that her mother was already downstairs and could easily get to the door more quickly. Then she heard Brenda's voice yell, "Go answer the door, Stacy! I'm busy!"
Stacy sighed and went back downstairs. When she opened the door, she didn't see anyone. She was about to close it again when a glint of light caught her eye and she looked down to see a small, shiny object sitting on the front step. She picked it up and found that it was a small glass mouse.
She took the mouse inside, trying to figure out why a prankster would leave such a pretty object, but stopped halfway up the stairs. Of course. She ran the rest of the way back to her room and gently placed the mouse next to the glass lion. Sandi didn't seem like the apologizing type, but this was close enough as far as Stacy was concerned.
"Sandi?" Stacy asked timidly before school the next day. Sandi turned around, her face lacking all emotion. "I, um, got your...message. Thanks. And also, you know. Sorry."
"Never mind all that. The important thing is that I have an idea."
"You do?" Stacy tilted her head. "About what?"
"What else?" Sandi snorted. "Candice."
"Oh." Then Stacy got it. "Oh! What is it?"
Lowering her voice, Sandi said, "I'll tell you under one condition: you have to follow my instructions precisely, no matter what."
"You have my word," Stacy breathed, shaking with both excitement and terror.
Sandi smiled in a way that made Stacy feel sorry for Candice for just the briefest of seconds.
Stacy had memorized every step of Sandi's plan, but she still jumped and let out a squeak when Sandi nudged her during recess. "Are you ready?"
"Um...I think so."
"No." Sandi put a hand on Stacy's shoulder and squeezed. "Are you ready?"
"Yes!" Stacy yelped, and for the first time in her life she felt like she really was.
"All right. Once the crowd is big enough, I'll signal you."
Stacy nodded and began walking across the playground in Candice's direction. She had to force herself to keep walking, because every muscle in her body was begging her to turn around and run away. For Sandi, she reminded herself. I won't let her down again.
As soon as she was in Candice's line of sight, the teasing began. "Hey, freak! How much are you going to cry today?" She held out her water bottle and shook it a little to slosh the water around. "I could use a refill anyway!" Smirking, she tucked it into her back pocket.
"I'm not going to cry," Stacy shot back, letting her voice shake a little.
"Are you kidding?" Candice hooted. "You always cry!"
Stacy crossed her arms defiantly. "No way." Kids were starting to gather around to watch the excitement.
Candice took the bait. "Crybaby's gonna cry, everybody! Come and see!" She pointed at Stacy and shouted, "Crybaby, crybaby, crybaby!"
The other kids took up the chant, although not quite as enthusiastically as Candice. When it seemed like every kid on the playground had grouped around Candice and Stacy, Sandi gave a small wave. It was time.
"You know what, Candice?" Stacy asked, just loud enough to be heard over the chanting.
"What?" Candice said with a malicious grin.
"I have a secret to tell you."
"Is it that you're a crybaby freak? 'Cause that's not a secret."
Stacy shook her head and stepped closer to Candice. The other kids drew in closer, eager to see what would happen next. "I'll tell you, but only you. Let me whisper it in your ear." As Candice leaned in, Stacy saw motion behind her out of the corner of her eye. Sandi was in place, and everyone's attention was on Stacy.
Stacy leaned forward until her mouth was right next to Candice's ear. Glancing sideways, she saw Sandi give her a "thumb's up" sign behind Candice's back. Taking a deep breath, Stacy shouted, "OMIGOD DID YOU WET YOUR PANTS? THAT'S SOOOO HUMILIATING!" as loudly as she could.
Candice staggered back, looking down at the front of her jeans. A dark stain was spreading across them, and in her shock she didn't notice as Sandi slipped the water bottle back into her back pocket and circled around to join the crowd.
"I didn't..." Candice muttered, frowning down at herself. "I never...!"
"Candice peed her pants!" Sandi called out, pointing it out for anyone who hadn't already noticed. "Candice peed her pants!"
It took only a moment for the other kids to take up the chant. "Candice peed her pants! Candice peed her pants! Candice peed her pants!"
Candice scowled at everyone, one by one, and for a second she looked like she was going to yell back at them. Then she looked down again, turned bright red, and ran for the school. The cries of "Candice peed her pants!" followed her through the doors.
Once she was gone, the other kids looked curiously at each other, wondering what would happen next. Sandi wasted no time in filling that gap. "Can you believe we all used to think she was so cool?" she asked.
Murmurs of agreement and surprise greeted her remark. "Crazy, right?" one kid said. "She's lame," chimed in another. Before long, the entire group seemed to be in total agreement that Candice was about as popular as cooties and weekend homework. Kids even started arguing about which of them had liked Candice vs. those who had only been pretending.
"I think it's time to put an end to these ridiculous schoolyard squabbles and come together as one group, don't you?" Sandi suggested pleasantly. "One group united against Candice Pee-Pants," she continued with a shark-like grin.
The bell rang, interrupting the festivities, and as everyone went back into the school Stacy fell into step next to Sandi. "I can't believe that worked!" she squealed quietly.
"Of course it worked," Sandi said with a smirk. "It was my plan. Besides, haven't you noticed how easily-led they all are?"
Stacy nodded. "I guess everyone has their place. Like, you and me."
"How so?" Sandi arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.
"Well, you lead and I follow. It just works better that way."
"Can't argue with that."
Stacy grinned at Sandi, almost overwhelmed by gratitude. "We make a great team, don't we?"
Sandi shrugged. "Eh."
Stacy floated on air for the rest of the day. Candice, wearing a pair of ratty shorts from the school lost and found, was sullenly quiet the whole time. Stacy noticed frequent glances and smiles turned in her and Sandi's direction and realized that she had achieved something completely unknown to her before: popularity. And I owe it all to my new best friend.
Over the next few days, Candice made some half-hearted attempts to win back their classmates. A couple rounds of "Candice Pee-Pants" ended her efforts for good. By the end of the school year, she had given up even trying to interact with her classmates and on the last day announced she was transferring to a new school.
Meanwhile, Sandi and Stacy had climbed to the top of the social order. Stacy was happy to follow Sandi's lead, and even Brenda's constant nagging and nitpicking couldn't spoil her summer as long as she had her best friend to depend on.
In the fall, the girls walked to their first day of sixth grade together. When the bell rang and everyone was seated in the classroom, their new teacher stood in front of them with a black-haired girl no one had seen before. "Class, I'd like you to welcome Tiffany Blum-Deckler, who just moved to Lawndale over the summer."
"Hiiiiiii," the girl said in a slow drawl. A few kids snickered at her vacant expression, and Stacy's heart sank. More bullying. Will it ever end? Then she smiled. Yes. Yes, it will.
The minute the recess bell rang, Stacy grabbed Sandi's arm and murmured something in her ear. Sandi thought about it, then nodded. Excited, Stacy waved Tiffany over. "Want to hang out with us?" she asked.
Sandi added, "We're the popular kids, so I highly recommend it."
"Ohhhh. Okaaaaaay," Tiffany said agreeably. She took a closer look at Sandi. "I like your braaaaaaces. They're shiiiiiiiny."