Ophelia walked down the hall, head held high. She smiled warmly at a pair of students who passed her and smiled back. Despite the pressure on her and despite having to wear the school colors, she felt pretty good that day. This might not have been my first choice of clothes, color-wise, but at least I look good in them, she thought. A little suffering is worth it for the end result!

As she turned the corner, she came face to face with Angela, who was wearing a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses. Ophelia blanched, and, after a few seconds, rushed into the bathroom. She slammed the stall door behind her and vomited. Shakily, she rose to her feet and wiped her mouth, then slowly opened the stall door. Angela grinned at her. Ophelia pretended not to notice and went to wash her hands.

“Quite a response,” Angela remarked smugly.

“Shut up. I just have a virus,” Ophelia lied. “So, where’d you get the sunglasses?”

Angela smirked and responded, “A friend.”


Ophelia whitened again. “Friend?”

“Yeah, a friend,” Angela chirped. She turned and strode out of the bathroom.

Ophelia stared in the mirror, her eyes wide. It can’t be. It has to be a coincidence. It has to be. There’s no way… she thought, shaking her head in disbelief.

Outside, Angela grinned and adjusted the sunglasses. Wow, Dunstan was right about how she’d react! she thought. I wonder how he knew! I should ask him. Worst case scenario, I'll steal his gun again. With a low chuckle, she walked away, humming to herself.


Ophelia stumbled out of the bathroom, her face pale. Her legs shook a little as she moved unsteadily away from the bathroom. Emily, who was walking past, looked over at Ophelia in astonishment and rushed over. She put an arm around Ophelia, trying to steady her.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked, looking worried. “Want me to get someone? A teacher? Nurse? Cy?”

“I’ll be fine,” Ophelia said hoarsely. “I just threw up, that’s all.”

“Oh. Do you think maybe it’s a virus or maybe something you ate?”

“Nah, just a response to seeing something troubling. That’s all,” Ophelia replied, shrugging Emily away. “Don’t be so concerned. Besides, you might lose votes if you’re caught fraternizing with the enemy, so to speak.”

“I don’t care about winning. Besides, I’d be a pretty horrible person if I ignored a friend who was clearly unwell, just to appear socially acceptable,” Emily responded.

Ophelia smiled a little and said quietly, “Then you’re a better person than most of the people in this school. Don’t change.”

“Sometimes I think being a good person is overrated,” Emily replied, frowning. “At this school, it seems that being a good person makes you an ideal target for bullying and harassment.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll get the last laugh, Em. Trust me, in a few years, those b*****ds will be begging you for jobs while you’re living the good life.”

“I wish I could be as confident about that sort of thing as you are,” Emily sighed.

“Sometimes, all you can do is hope for the best and prepare yourself for the worst. But I know you’ve got a lot going for you, and you’re going to do a lot better than most of the idiots at this school. And I’m not just saying that because we’re friends, either. Now, stop worrying about me. Your public awaits you.”


“What public?” Emily scoffed. “The library club?”

Ophelia chuckled and shrugged. “Hey, every vote counts, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. I just kind of hate being seen as Little Miss Nerdy Chick, you know? There’s more to me than just my intelligence.”

“Hey, Em, if it’s any consolation, I think you’ve got a better shot at this whole Prom Queen thing than Angela.”

Emily snorted. “Yeah, right. She’s perfect for it. Doesn’t mind playing dirty.”

“Not everyone goes for that, though. Angela… well… she’s the kind of chick that a guy will date, just to make himself look good to other guys, and then dump her once he realizes what a b***h she is. You’re a better person overall, Em. People see that, trust me. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Emily smiled and gave Ophelia’s arm a brief affectionate squeeze. “Thanks,” she said. “I feel a lot better now.”

“And so do I, so we can stop worrying about each other.”

“And go back to bickering and wanting to kill each other?”

“Why not?” Ophelia replied, facetiously. “We could… I don’t know… force each other to eat chocolate until we burst or something like that.”

Emily stared at Ophelia in astonishment for a few seconds, and then laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. But instead of chocolate, make it tiramisu.”

“No, Jello. We can eat more that way.”

“Yeah, Jello is one of those weird magical foods that you can’t really get full on.”

“Hey, how about ice cream?”

“Only if it’s Peanut Butter Cup.”

“How about the Cold Stone Creamery’s Peanut Butter Cup Perfection?”

“Ooh, that’ll work.”