“Wow,” remarked Emily, as she and Ophelia headed to math class. “I don’t know Mae all that well… well, you know, aside from the times she arbitrarily chose to slap me around, but from what I do know about her, that’s not her normal style.”

“Yeah,” Ophelia muttered. Emily raised an eyebrow and peered through her spectacles at her friend. “What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

“This is a bad sign, Em,” Ophelia murmured. “Very bad indeed. Mae takes things to such extremes. She does this kind of thing when she feels least ‘herself.’ Last time she did this is when her parents divorced back… uh… when we were really young. About ten, I guess.”

“That bad, huh?” Emily asked. She gave Ophelia’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. I mean, what could have set her off like that?”


Ophelia lowered her eyes guiltily. “It’s my fault,” she finally answered.

“Huh? Your fault?”

“People have always assumed that the reason Mae and I don’t get along like we did when we were younger is because Mae was jealous that Cy paid more attention to me than to her. Well, they were right and wrong,” Ophelia explained. “Turns out, Mae liked me, not Cy. She told me a few days ago, and… well… I guess I answered a little harshly. I told her that I only liked her as a friend and… well…” Here, Ophelia lowered her voice. “I basically said that I was interested in Cy.”

Emily sighed. “Poor you, and poor Mae. You’ve both been through some pretty tough times, huh?” She gave Ophelia a kind smile. “This calls for a movie and junk food marathon, to cheer you up. Sounds good?”

Ophelia was silent for a few seconds, and then finally spoke. “Can we have peanut butter cup ice cream?”

“Of course.”


Ms. Gibson hurried over to the two girls, looking a little anxious. “Emergency CNC meeting at lunch,” she told them. “Tell the others as soon as possible!”




“You are probably wondering why I have called you here,” Ms. Gibson said slowly, gazing at the teens sitting around the table.

“Yeah, of course we are!” AJ spoke up. “What’s up?”

“As you may or may not know, the arts are not very well-funded at this school.”

“Yeah, we know,” Ophelia said dryly, wrinkling her nose. “Too much emphasis on sports, not enough on cerebral pursuits.”

Ms. Gibson nodded. “Indeed. So, the principal has come up with the idea of having a fundraiser to provide money for the band, art classes, drama classes, and so forth.”


“Okay,” Tiffani said slowly. “But where do we come in? None of us are in the art programs. I mean, some of us take art classes but--”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ophelia interrupted. “Sorry to break in like that but… do you really want the whole school to be nothing but athletes and people who don’t want to use the right sides of their brains? People who discourage creativity? We might not be the arts, per se, but we are a form of it-- communication, in the form of a news show. Doesn’t that count, in a way? Come on, Tiff. Listen to what Ms. Gibson has to say, and then start arguing.” She glanced over at Ms. Gibson. “Sorry,” she said again. “Continue.”

“Right,” Ms. Gibson said. “The reason I wanted you all here is, apparently, we were one of the last clubs to be informed about this. All of the other fundraising options for the event-- games, bake sales, raffles-- are already called. There’s only one option left, and I wanted to run it by you guys before giving an answer about whether or not we’d do it.”

“What is it?” Emily asked.

Ms. Gibson took a deep breath. “Entertainment.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Angela asked.

“Singing. Acting. Comedy. Things along those lines,” Ms. Gibson explained.


“Would we be the only school club doing that?” AJ asked.

“No. We would be performing only half the time. The other half will, unfortunately, be covered by the cheerleaders and dance team.”

Tiffani spoke up immediately. “I’ll do it.” Everyone else stared at her, wide-eyed.

“Anyone else?” Ms. Gibson asked. Everyone raised their hands. “All opposed?” she asked. No response. “Fine, then I will let the principal know that we will be performing at the fundraiser.”

“When will it be?” Ophelia asked.

“Next Saturday. So, you have plenty of time to come up with a few hours of material,” Ms. Gibson replied. “You’re more than welcome to rehearse and brainstorm in here before and after school, as well as during lunch.”

Ophelia nodded, ideas already forming in her head. “Sounds good,” she remarked.



Charise picked her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number. “Hey, S?” she said. “This is Charise. The Clique News Crash-ers are stuck with doing some fundraising for the arts. They have to perform at a big fundraiser next Saturday. Do you think you can help them out a little? Well… I was thinking… you remember that scene from Rent…?”