“It makes perfect sense if what Bobby and Munificent said is true. The stalker’s into drugs. The Class Project is all about drugs. Mason is all about the Class Project. Henceforth, hitherto, and ipso facto, Mason knows the stalker. Duh. He may not do drugs, but he’s certainly working for someone who appreciates them. And I think he’s doing it against his will. We all know Mason is an evil wombat. But this time, Mason’s afraid. He knows his dad can’t save him.”
“The Class Project isn’t about drugs, though. Even Bobby said the chemicals made in the Class Project are harmless.”
“He also implied that a lab with more advanced equipment could make something nasty from them.”
“So you’re saying the psycho stalker is Mason’s boss.”
“I’m saying, if you want to know who the smelly man in the Elmo mask is, ask Mason.”
I thought about it for a minute, then patted Kathryn’s head. “I hate to say it, lady, but you should be a Psi Fighter.”
Footsteps and laughter echoed off the tiled walls. The rest of the survivors were returning from the pelting. As girls streamed into the locker room, we changed from our ghastly gold and brown gym uniforms, Kathryn into her Hollisters with holes machined in various strategic locations, me into my boring, hole-free jeans from Walmart. My mom’s voice echoed in my mind. I don’t care what Kathryn wears. You are not going to school with holes in your clothes.
Parents simply do not understand fashion.
Lockers clanged all around us as students rushed to get to the next class. A well-endowed cheerleader changed a few lockers down from me. She didn’t have a single dodgeball wound on her, although she had contributed to the majority of mine. She was a pro with those inflatable red implements of destruction, and I was her favorite target. I smiled. “Hi, Tammy. Good game.”
Tammy eyed me like I was a festering sore. She turned away and, noticing that Kathryn wasn’t looking, said, “Hey, Kathryn. Love your outfit!”
“’Sup, Tam,” Kathryn muttered, pulling on her shoes. “To the potty, Rin. Back in a sec.”
I’m used to being ignored by the Excessively Cool people, especially Tammy Angel.
Being ignored can be quite useful, the Kilodan once told me. You can hide in plain view and see things you might not otherwise see.
Maybe so, but it can also be quite annoying. Tammy is captain of the cheerleaders even though she’s a junior, and next to Kathryn, the hottest girl in school. She’s also undisputed leader of the Red Team. How they got that stupid name, I can only guess. She has zero time for the Uncool, and I am at the very top of that list. You’d think that being best friends with the most popular girl in school would rub a little of the magic off on me, but it’s just the opposite. Tammy hates my relationship with Kathryn and makes certain that all her friends feel the same way. She thinks she should be Kathryn’s BFF. Apparently they used to be tight in preschool or something, which makes it even sadder.
As I pulled my backpack from my locker, a pale girl with greasy hair and sunken eyes joined Angel.
“Tammy, can we talk?”
“Hey, hey, Erica,” Tammy said.
Erica Jasmine, previously a sweet girl, currently a witch with a capital B. I had watched her go downhill for a few weeks. She wasn’t the only one. Other formerly nice kids had turned mean, suddenly snapping at people for no reason. Until today’s assembly, I was convinced that it was either the Bubonic Plague or terrible constipation. Now I knew it was that Psychedone 10 stuff.
Angel put her arm around Erica, and said in a singsongy voice, “I know why you’re here.”
Erica backed out of Angel’s hug. “Tammy, I…can’t anymore. My parents know—”
“Erica,” Tammy said. “I thought we talked about this. Uncool is no longer acceptable in this school. The Cool Rule. And I rule the Cool. If you ever want to be a member of the Red Team, you’ll have to get on the Star Ship Angel.” She pulled a small baggie from her pocket. “And this is your ticket.”
Shocked, I pinned myself against the locker, hiding behind the open door and happy for once to be unnoticed.
Erica glanced at her feet. “I don’t like what this stuff does to me.”
“Small price to pay for Coolness. Hang with us. Eighty-six the Loser Squad. They’re no good for you anymore. Here you go.” Tammy slid the baggy into Erica’s hand. “Get healthy.”
Erica’s tired, sunken eyes suddenly changed. They grew bright and she glared into Tammy’s. “No, Tammy. I’m done. You can’t make me anymore. I’ll go to the police.” She shoved the baggy back into Tammy’s hand.
“No problem.” Tammy smiled. “Maybe I’ll talk to your little sister instead.”
What was Angel up to? She and the Red Team were the school’s most notorious bullies, but they weren’t into drugs. Angel headed the school’s Students Against Drugs committee. She personally put up all the “Hugs not Drugs” and “Users are Losers” posters. She was even more anti-drugs than Mason was.
The anger fell from Erica’s face. “Not my sister,” she whispered, and pulled a wad of cash from her pocket.
“Where are your manners, Erica?” Tammy snatched the money and waved it in Erica’s face. “The Red Team demands respect.”