Julia stretched a little and looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be warm this evening,” she murmured to herself, her hands gripping the chains of the swing tightly.

“Julia… look…” a voice behind her said. Julia frowned. She recognized that voice. It was Mae. She did not turn her head to look at the girl behind her. “Hold it right there,” Julia said sharply. “Don’t think you can just apologize and that will be the end of it.”


Mae sighed and eased herself onto the swing beside Julia. Julia took a long look at her friend. She’s really badly off, she thought, with a sigh. “It’s Cy’s fault, isn’t it?” Julia asked. “It’s Cy’s fault you’re not yourself, isn’t it? I see that, though I don’t know what’s really going on. But in the first place, why are you wearing that outfit?”

“It’s… I don’t know…” Mae replied finally.

“It’s not normal. Not your kind of normal! What’s not normal is your kind of normal.”

“My kind of normal…” Mae mumbled.

“You’re just going to be silent again, aren’t you? This isn’t like you. Very uncool.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re acting like my dog did after we got him fixed. I don’t know what it was, but if something was taken from you, then take it back! Your normal self is much cooler, and besides, that outfit doesn’t suit you at all!” Julia cried out, almost screaming from pure frustration.


Mae sighed and raised her head slowly. Take it back, she thought.

That familiar expression was back on her face. That’s the Mae I know, Julia thought, smiling a little.


“I’m sorry, Julia,” Mae finally said, rising. “When I hit you the other day, it must have hurt. I shouldn’t have done that. I know, it’s just like you said. This really isn’t my normal self.” She hugged Julia tightly. “I’m going to take back my normal self… but I need your help. And the help of my cousin.”

“…You mean Andi? Like she’ll help you.”

“She better, or else… she owes me big-time.”



And so time passed, as it always does, and everyone had his or her own secrets plans for the show. And soon, the day of the big fundraiser came.

The dance team and cheerleading squad performed for the first half of the fundraiser. “Oh dear God, they’re strippers in training,” Mr. Rivers, the art teacher, muttered to Ms. Gibson.

“Don’t worry,” she replied, “I’ve got performers lined up to take the bad taste out of everyone’s mouth. I have the Clique News Crash team doing the main stuff, but a few students have received permission to perform a few songs and skits so that the CNC-ers can rest.”

“That sounds great,” Mr. Rivers said, nodding approvingly. “But I heard there’s a bit of dissention in the ranks.”

“Hm?”

“Ophelia and Charise had a fight. Emily told me about it.”

“Don’t worry,” Ms. Gibson replied, smiling a little. “I think everything will fall into place. Just give it time. They have much bigger things to fight about than one little performance. Take that boy, Dunstan, for instance…”

“Speak of the devil,” Mr. Rivers muttered, nodding over near the stage. Dunstan was leaning against the side of the stage, chatting with Angela.

“I don’t like him one bit,” Ms. Gibson muttered. “He and Charise do not belong together. Charise should just grow up, drop the whole ‘Obsess Over the Bad Boy’ crap, and just get with S so he’ll stop being all mopey and emo about her.”

“You sound rather bitter,” Mr. Rivers remarked.

“Brian, I’ve been dealing with these kids for years. I know them as well as if they were my own children. But there’s only so much you can take before you just realize that they keep making the same mistakes, over and over. It’s scary to think that the future of the world lies in the hands of some of these kids.”

“Not all of the kids are like that, Gabrielle. Some of them have a good head on their shoulders. Like Ophelia and Emily.”

Ms. Gibson nodded. “Yes, but unless people learn to listen to the intelligent people, we are doomed.”

Mr. Rivers started to say something, but stopped. “Look,” he said, changing the subject, “your group is about to go on.”

Ms. Gibson grinned. “From what I’ve seen of their practices, I think everyone will be blown away, although it is fun for me to explain to the janitors why there are shoe marks on my classroom tables…”