Ophelia hurried to the first place she could think of-- Ms. Gibson’s room. To her surprise, her fellow Clique News Crash members-- sans Emily-- were in there already, talking with concerned looks on their faces.

“Judging from the look on your face, you already know,” Ms. Gibson said.

“About Emily?” Ophelia asked.

AJ nodded, “Dad came by and got her. He’s bringing her to the hospital to get checked out. And, of course, the cops came and got LB.”

“I was in there when it happened,” Tiffani said, toying with her newly-shortened locks.

“What happened, exactly?” Ophelia asked.

“Sit down, Ophelia,” AJ said, gently pushing her into a seat. “Knowing how close you two have gotten, it’ll probably affect you the same way it affected me.”

Ophelia nodded numbly and listened as Tiffani spoke:


“We were in Mr. Dyer’s biology class. You know how he is-- mostly boring sit-down work. Good class to sleep in, though. Well, we were working on our assignments while Mr. Dyer was calling us up to his desk, one by one, to tell us what we made on our tests.


"Well, when Emily got back to her seat, LB asked her what she made. I couldn’t hear her response, but knowing her, it was something like, ‘I’m not going to say.’ Well, at that point, LB went nuts. He jumped out of his seat, shoved Emily’s books off her desk, and started slapping and punching her. I tried to get over there and stop things, but I tripped and almost twisted my ankle. Mr. Dyer got Ms. Gibson and Mr. Rivers-- you know, the art teacher who’s also LB’s dad-- to escort LB to the office. He called the nurse over the intercom and had her come in with a wheelchair.”


AJ growled, “And a lot of people are saying she deserved it, that she should have just told him her grade. Bullsh*t. My sister has the right to keep her grades secret. What kind of a man hits a woman?”

“Calm down,” Angela said softly, reaching out to squeeze AJ's hand. He looked at her with astonishment.

“Calm down?” he snapped. “I’m not going to calm down! That bastard beat up my sister! Would you be calm if that happened to you?”

Angela bowed her head and replied, “A woman should know her place, and that means submitting to men.”


“That Surrendered Wife junk or whatver crap you're citing is irrelevant!” Ophelia snapped. “This is about assault, godd*mn it!”

“Well, goodness, I was just saying--”

“And I’m just saying! LB had no right to hit Emily.”

Ophelia jerked herself out of her seat. She glared at Angela for a minute and then walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” Ms. Gibson asked.

“Out, before I lose my temper,” Ophelia snapped, flinging open the door and storming out, letting the door slam behind her.


Angela sighed, “She really should calm down and just let men be the responsible ones.”

Tiffani turned her head and said, “Look, princess, I hear enough ‘how women should act’ junk at home. I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

“I don’t like how you’ve changed,” Angela murmured disapprovingly.

“Tough luck. What you think doesn’t matter to me. Actually, what my family thinks doesn’t matter either. Mom yelled at me for getting my hair cut, but I stopped letting that stuff bother me.”


Ophelia leaned against the locker, breathing hard. Calm down, she told herself. Don’t let the stupidity get to you.

“Hey, Ophelia,” a voice said from beside her. Ophelia sighed and turned in the direction of the voice.

“Mae,” she said. “Did you hear what LB did to one of my friends?”

“Yeah, everyone knows. Dad’s p*ssed, of course. Hell, I’m p*ssed-- my brother’s going to jail!”


“For attacking Emily,” Ophelia shot back.

“Well,” Mae responded, “Emily’s just the type who you just want to hit. Have you ever thought that maybe she deserved it?”

Ophelia responded, giving Mae a sharp slap across the face, “Maybe Emily doesn’t deserve it, but you do for saying that kind of stuff. If I ever hear you say that sh*t again, so help me God, I will beat you until you’re black and purple!”


Ophelia felt a strong hand on her shoulder and smelled a combination of faint cigarette smoke, roses, and chalk dust. Ms. Gibson.

“Normally, you would be written up, Ophelia,” she said, “but given the circumstance, I will look the other way. As for you, Miss Rivers… you know, Ophelia is right. You shouldn’t say those kinds of things about people, ever. And if I catch you saying anything like that, you’ll have me and your father to deal with. Now get the hell out of here before I tell your father.”


Mae nodded and hurried away. As soon as she was well away, Ophelia turned and hugged Ms. Gibson tightly, sobbing.

“Why the hell are people so hateful?” Ophelia asked.

“I don’t know, honey. Life is pretty brutal sometimes, but you know what?” Ms. Gibson said. “Mae is the kind of person who is miserable and likes to make everyone else miserable as well. One day, she will be even more miserable, and she’ll keep trying to spread that misery. But guess what-- it won’t do more than boost you and Emily up. One day, you’ll be a famous artist or musician or fashion designer, and Emily will be a famous writer. Tiffani will rebel against her family and go into law or journalism. AJ will shock everyone by going into science or medicine. And Angela will be in a good relationship, until the guy trades her in for a newer model.”

Ophelia laughed a little at these predictions. Ms. Gibson grinned and said, “No more slapping or crying today, hm?”