Tiffani sighed, resisting the urge to slump over and bury her head in her arms. We’ve been doing this for damn near a week now, she thought. So many lunches and free periods spent going around in circles. And for what? Is it really worth all this?

She looked over at Lyle, blinking sleepily. God, I wish we could just be done with all this. I want to get on with my life. I can’t spend the rest of my life in here, arguing about this stupid stuff, she thought.

“Tell me, Miss Paxton, did you ever try out for the cheerleading squad at this school?” Sherrie asked.

“Yes, I tried out at the beginning of this year, I believe,” Angela replied.

“And were you accepted onto the team?” Sherrie asked.

“No,” Angela replied.

“And were you given a reason?” Sherrie asked.

“Yes. I was told that my personality would not meld well with those of the current members.”

Sherrie smiled triumphantly. “No further questions,” she said. Maya nodded, and Sherrie sat down. Lyle rose, a broad grin on his face.


“Miss Paxton,” he began, “you were told that your personality would not meld well with those of the current members of the cheerleading squad. Am I correct?”

“Yes, I just said that,” Angela replied.

Lyle smirked. “Is it also true that a few weeks ago, you were offered a spot on the cheerleading squad?”

Sherrie blanched, and Lyle, noting her uncomfortable expression, flashed her a triumphant grin.

“Yes,” Angela admitted.

“Did this coincide with your makeover?” Lyle asked.

Angela thought for a few seconds and finally replied, “It was about two or so weeks after the makeover. Maybe three.”

“Objection! Relevance?” Sherrie called out, leaping to her feet.

“Because,” Lyle snapped, “the cheerleading and dance team, which claims to give everyone an equal chance to be a member, is clearly making judgments based on appearance, given that after Miss Paxton began dressing in a more mainstream fashion, she was offered a position on the squad, despite being previously rejected.”

Tiffani smiled a little. Maybe I should stop stressing, she thought. Lyle’s got this handled. Maybe this trial will be over soon. Hopefully, really soon.


“Sweetie, calm down,” Grant murmured, stroking Valo’s hair. Over the past few days, Valo had become pale and drained-looking, robbed of energy, passion, and even concern for her loved ones. She’d essentially become a faded version of her former self.

“Telling me to calm down isn’t magically going to make it all better!” Valo sobbed, her voice muffled by her mattress, as she had her face buried in it, as if she were trying to burrow into it and hide.

Grant sighed and squeezed her hand, biting his lip. He had only seen Valo cry one other time, the time that she thought she had a severe illness that she might have passed on to him-- thank God, her worried had been unfounded, as she had simply been suffering from a reaction to something she’d come into contact with over vacation-- but seeing her like this reminded him of just how vulnerable she was, despite her attempts to appear strong and in control.

“Not everyone hates you,” he said softly. “Lots of people love you.”

Valo finally rolled over, revealing her reddened eyes and tear-stained face. She glared, as angry at herself as she was at them. “Olivia said the only reason I’m upset about the stuff going on is because I’m jealous of the chicks who are getting attention. And she sent a bunch of her friends copies of the essay, and now they’re ticked. Like Rick. I wrote about how he tries to get into everyone’s pants, without actually mentioning his name, and… well… he recognized himself very quickly.”

Several weeks before, Valo had sent her friend Olivia a copy of the essay she’d written for Women’s Studies, describing her workplace. It took several weeks, but Olivia finally responded, and not kindly either. In fact, Valo struggled not to scream in anger and frustration as she read Olivia’s e-mailed response:

I am sorry, but I can not agree with anything you said in here. Many of your comments not only offend me as a female but offend me as friends with the people you are insulting. In fact I found what you said more offensive than what the men "so called" say in the game room. I had not read this till today but I am now offended. I do not appreciate you insulting my good friends and the fact that you made comments that were not true. I do not know what your problem is but stop being a b***h to my friends. I understand that you are jealous that the men only like certain girls in there and that you aren't one of them, but get over it. You need to "JUST SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP"!!!!!! I, as well as the other girls in the room, do not feel that the room is anymore sexist then anywhere else. I am very hurt by your comments in this paper. I think you need to get a reality check and get off your damn high horse.


Valo curled up even smaller, remembering the e-mail all too clearly, with its insulting, albeit poorly written, message. It reminded her of all the cruel things she'd dealt with in her younger days. “Enough people hate me to make things bad,” she murmured. “They’ve already been problematic. I just know that when spring break is over, things are just going to get worse.”

Grant embraced Valo tightly. “Let’s try to handle this, one thing at a time, okay?” Valo nodded, but looked doubtful. “Have Theo and Reggie been giving you problems?” he asked. Theo and Reggie were two of his friends.

Valo nodded. “Not so much Theo, but Reggie… well, you know how he is,” she said slowly. “And when he’s around, Theo seems to feel as though he has to show off for Reggie.”

Grant chuckled softly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ll talk to them and get them to lay off. They’ll listen to me, at least. Now, consider this, sweetie: do you think that all of the idiots will spend their entire spring break focusing on how to make you unhappy?” Valo shook her head slowly.

“No,” she murmured. “But still…” She trailed off, unable to properly articulate her worries.

“I think the break will allow for a much-needed cooling off period, for everyone involved,” Grant remarked.

Valo sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she finally said. “I hate when you know what’s better for me than I do.”