“Okay,” Ophelia said, flopping onto the couch. “What’s up? Got anything good for me?”

Cry grinned broadly and replied, “I do, indeed. I started going through my stuff, and then I thought, ‘Stupid! She’s too small to fit properly in this, even with alterations.’ So, I decided it was time for Plan B.”

“Plan B?”

“Do you recall a certain dress you saw a few months ago and totally loved, but it was too expensive for you to get?”

“Yeah. Oh my God, Cy, you didn’t!”

“Go look in that box on the bed.”

Ophelia rose and slowly approached the bed. She eased the lid off of the largish box and found herself staring at the very dress she’d coveted. “Cy, you really shouldn’t have. It was really expensive.”

“Do you think I have anything else to spend my money on?” Cy asked, shrugging. “Besides, if I can’t spend my money on my beautiful girlfriend, who am I supposed to spend money on? Take the dress, Lia. You deserve it.”

Ophelia looked down at the dress for several seconds, and then turned and embraced Cy tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.


There was a loud knock at AJ’s bedroom door. AJ looked up from his computer and called out, “I’m not taking sides on this!”

“AJ, open up!” Emily cried out. The fear in her voice made AJ bolt to his feet and yank open the door. “AJ, someone stole my journal!”

AJ raised an eyebrow. “So? Get a new one,” he replied.

“No, you don’t understand, if the wrong person finds that, it’ll be bad,” Emily wailed.

“Did you check your backpack?”

“Yeah, and my room and everywhere else I could think of.”

“Look, I’m sure it’ll turn up.”

“I sure hope so.”


Tiffani sighed and walked into the school building. I need some quiet time away from the family, she thought. And most people don’t show up until about 7:00, so I have about half an hour to myself. She nodded and began heading toward her locker, but a piece of paper stuck on the wall caught her attention. Even from a distance, it was clearly a photocopy of a page in a notebook. Tilting her head in confusion, she stepped closer to it. She squinted her eyes a little, reading the words. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion as she read the scribbled words:

March 10
Lasagna- ½ piece
Hash browns x 2
Rice (1 bowl)
Exercise total: 66:10

March 11:
Garlic bread (1 slice)
Pickle
Soup (1 bowl)
Rice (1 bowl)
Exercise total: 79:50

Tiffani frowned, worried. That handwriting, she thought. Where have I seen it? I know it. Her eyes scanned the page and spotted some words that had been added to the page after it had been photocopied:

From the journal of Emily Desjardin. Don’t vote for a hypocrite.

Tiffani cried out in astonishment and anger and tore the paper down. She crumpled it up into a ball and hurled it into the nearest trash can. She looked around, frowning worriedly. How many more are there like this? Who is the sicko behind this? It can’t be true. It’s got to be some elaborate scam. It has to be. She ran down the hall, checking for similar papers. She found and tore down five pages.

“Who?” she mumbled. “Who the hell did this?” She threw the papers into another trash can, scowling.

“Don’t bother,” a voice called from down the hall.

Tiffani turned to see who the speaker was and stormed over, infuriated. “You!” she growled.


Angela smiled cheerily and waved a handful of papers. “Hi!”

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me. What the hell are you up to?”

“I think people deserve the truth,” Angela said, shrugging.

“So, what, you stole her journal and made copies? That’s bad politics. Dirty. That’s really not fair.”

Angela smiled a little. “Nothing that hasn’t already been done by real-life politicians.”

“Yeah, but… come on, that’s just not cool, Angie.”

“Don’t call me Angie. Besides, if she’s going to be standing around in class, talking about how bad eating disorders are…”

“That’s beside the point. There’s some things you just don’t do.”

“Yeah, and what are you planning to do about it?”

“I’ll let the principal and a bunch of the teachers know. You’ll be disqualified from this.”

“Nice, Tiff, but you forgot something. Proving it’s me?”

“You’ve got the papers. And the journal, too, I bet.”

Angela smirked a little. “Are you so sure about that? For all you know, I tossed the journal in the dumpster.”

“Christ, Angela, why the hell are you doing this to people?”

“I figure that winning this is the least I deserve for the years of hell I’ve gone through at this school.”

“You really make me sick, you know that?”