“They can’t kick me off the cheerleading team. We weren’t at school!” Mandy says in a know-it-all voice.
“Mandy, dear, when you drug the school’s star soccer player, you break a moral code. You’ve already been removed as a cheerleader and so has your friend, Alicia. You have not received notification yet, but that is the least of your worries. Aside from the situation at school, there could be legal ramifications as well. Obviously, Brandon could press charges. Here are sworn statements from both Miss Douglas and myself, in which we share that Mandy admitted to us that she drugged Brandon. My father, Patrick Flanning, is a partner in the law firm, Flanning, Marks, and Cole. He suggested that rather than ruin your daughter’s life with criminal charges I present this to you, her parents. He thought you might like the opportunity to handle this as a family. Provided that her punishment is suitable to the crime, Mr. Cushman has agreed not to press charges.”
“You are such a bitch! I can’t even believe you would listen to these lies!” Mandy screams. “She’s the meanest—”
“MANDY, SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!” her father yells.
Her mother sobs louder.
Vanessa gets up. “I’m very sorry to have met under such unfortunate circumstances. I wish you and your family the best during these trying times. Here’s my father’s card. He will be expecting an email or letter from you with Mandy’s punishment by four pm today. Thank you for meeting with me.”
You see Vanessa let herself out.
Then the camera focuses on her face. She smiles at the camera and says, “I think that went pretty well.”
Damian looks at me. “Wow. Did that girl really do all that stuff or was Vanessa lying?”
“No, it’s all the truth. Well, except for the part about her nose hitting a door. I did punch her.”
“Sounds to me like she got what she deserved.”
“Did she? She did it all because she wanted to be popular.”
“What did her parents do?”
“Sent her to a rehab center for youth who make destructive decisions. This fall, she will attend the very strict and religious St. Margaret’s School for Girls. Her friend, Alicia, will be a social pariah.”
“What did her friend do?”
“Helped distract Cush, so she could put the valium in his beer.”
“Well, she deserves it too.”
“I told Vanessa to destroy her.”
“You what?”
I tell Damian all the gory details. Spill my guts completely. Starting with when Vanessa threatened to tell everyone my relationship with Sander was a sham, and ending with Cush breaking up with me.
“I ruined her life,” I tell him.
“You didn’t ruin her life. I think she got what she deserved, but the video, that was to show people what happens if they mess with Vanessa and her friends, right?”
“Yeah, that’s why I don’t want to go back to school. I can’t get out of it. Cush and I tried and look what happened. Cush hates me and he should. This isn’t me. This isn’t who I want to be.”
“Who do you want to be?”
“Just me. If I’m popular because people like me, fine. But I don’t want this. I don’t want to be the girl people are nice to because they are afraid not to be.”
“I’m probably not going to be much help there. I was home schooled like you and Brook. I didn’t have to deal with that. Although even in the band there’s jealousy. We’re Twisted Dreams. We’re a team, but lately a lot of the focus has been on me. Because of who my dad is; because of the way I look.”
“You should’ve named the band, Teen Dreams. All those little teenyboppers are going to have posters of you on their walls. You know they are, Damian. You’re adorable, and the way your eyes look when you sing makes girls melt. Hell, I know you, know what a big dork you are, and even I melt a little.” I laugh.
“Shut up. It’s not like I mind it. Especially if it helps us sell records. And if we sell records, we all make the same amount of money. Troy doesn’t complain. Although the girls seem to think he’s hot.”
“Troy is hot, and he’s a great drummer and a great DJ, but he’s not the guy singing to you. It’s you. Your voice. It’s special. So, is being a rock star not all it’s cracked up to be either?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know when I’m a rock star.” He laughs, takes a sip of wine, and leans back in his chair. “Maybe I should write a song about that.”
“About what?”
“About being your own person. About not worrying what people think. About not worrying about being popular.”
“Most teens could probably relate.”
“That or I could write one about your eyes.”
“My eyes. Don’t be silly.”
“I’m not. Actually, I’ve written one about your eyes.”