I walked in and settled down at my desk. Mrs. Ager hadn’t arrived yet, (she was probably in the bathroom), but Joyce and her fellow snobs were there.
“Hey,” Joyce said, smiling. There was no teacher in the room, and no one else was there to witness anything. She was probably planning something.
“Hi,” I mumbled.
“I absolutely LOVE your shirt!” said Joyce.
“You said that on the bus.”
“I know. I just said it again though. That’s a compliment.” She kept giving her oh-so-splenda sweet smile.
“Right,” I said cautiously. “Thanks, I think.”
I stared at the blackboard.
“I also like your hair,” she continued. She touched a finger to her lips, as if in deep consideration. “Such a pretty color.”
“Um, thanks.”
“But it would look so much better if it was short.”
“No, thanks. I like it like this.”
“Oh no,” she said. Where was this going? “I insist.”
Suddenly, I knew. I leapt from my desk and dashed for the door; but Cait was too quick for me. She confronted me and pushed me, not very gently, mind you, back into my desk. She pinned me back, my hair flowing over the headrest.
Taren came over, grinning wickedly. She was holding a pair of scissors.
I struggled, kicking and punching. But nothing would penetrate Cait’s tough skin.
Taren started to snip away, cutting jaggedly, at my hair. I closed my eyes. When I could hear Joyce’s voice, I opened my eyes.
“Perfect,” she said. “You look so much better.”
I didn’t count on it.
Kate:)
Awesome. . .well not for Angela. She's lucky to be in that class. I never got headrests on my school chairs!
ReplyDeleteCool! I was going to say awesome, but Alex already said that.
ReplyDeletePersonally, my favorite line was, "She kept giving that oh-so-splenda sweet smile.
ReplyDelete