I didn't have to wait long for Leslie to get ready.  We all had the same uniforms to wear.  The girls wear skirts, the boys have slacks and shorts.

“You ready?” Leslie asked sarcastically when she was done.

“Yes,” I smiled.

“Let me put my hair up,” she said walking to the full length mirror.  I watched admiringly as she put her long wavy blonde hair up into a bun.  She always wears it in a bun.

“Why don't you ever wear it down?” I asked, “You have beautiful hair.”

“How about a ponytail?” she offered, taking it back down, “I can't stand for it to touch my face.”

That's understandable.  I feel the same way.  Leslie is about the same height as me, five foot, six inches.  We weigh about the same, one hundred and twenty five pounds.  Our body types are different though.  She is curvier than me.  She says that she is jealous of my more slender figure, I am jealous of her curves.

She finishes her ponytail and we leave for breakfast.  The cafeteria is pretty full when we get there.  We go through the line and get pancakes , sausage and bacon.  When we get through the line and look for empty places to sit, the only seats left are around Lori.  “It's time,” Leslie whispers just loud enough for me to hear.  I nod in agreement.  We take our seats directly across the table from Lori.  We wait a moment for her to tell us to give her something.  She doesn't.  We eat our food.

When we are finished eating, I look at Lori and simply say, “I challenge you.”

“Challenge me to what?” she asks.

“A fight, “I answer.

“You're  on,” she agrees.

“After dinner, beyond the peach orchard,” I tell her.

“I don't know where that is,” she told me.

“That is fine,” I inform her, “I will show you.”  She nodded in agreement.  “You are allowed one weapon of your choosing,” I laid out the terms, “If I win, you stop being a bully and everyone you have bullied gets to return back to you what you have done to them.  You can't fight back.”

“Deal,” she agreed, “If I win, you become my pet.”

“Agreed,” I inwardly shuddered at the idea, even though, I knew it wouldn't happen.

I could hear the whispers spreading throughout the cafeteria.  Everyone knew.  Leslie and I stood up, cleaned off our trays and turned them in.

“Spread the word that we will not have an audience,” I told Leslie, once we were alone in the hallway, “she will feed off of it.  She wants spectators.  You will be the referee.  Pick someone to be the lookout.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

We separated to go to our lockers.  I don't have any classes with Leslie.  She is a grade older than me, so her locker is in a different hallway.  Instead, I meet Brandi at our lockers.  I always walk her to her first class because it is on the way to mine.  I see Lori, up ahead, walking toward us.  Her face lights up when she spots Brandi, no doubt planning to do something to her.  I move to the other side of Brandi, so that I am the one that will have contact with Lori.  Lori spots me through the crowd and the light leaves her face.  She moves on past without incident.

I leave Brandi at her class, with a promise to see her at lunch, and move on to mine.  I go in and take my seat at the back.  I get a lot of stares and there are whispers as I pass.  I set my class materials on the left side of my desk and open my notebook that I like to sketch in.  I continue a sketch of a waterfall that I had started the previous day, ignoring the stares and whispers.  It's not long before the class is full and the teacher, Mr. Brown, enters.  He tell us to open our science books to chapter three and start reading.  We will have a pop quiz afterwards.  I continue sketching as I have already read it.  I love science.  I read it for fun.

Mr. Brown walks to me, noticing that I am not reading.  “Why aren't you reading?” he asked.

“I have already read it,” I answer.

“Then I will give you the quiz now,” he walks back to his desk and returns with a single piece of paper.

It's only 10 multiple choice questions.  I easily answer the questions while he watches.  I scribble my name at the top and hand it back to him.  He reads it as he walks back to his desk.  He sits down without another word.  It's not a very long chapter, only eight pages with a bunch of pictures.

I go back to my sketch.  I love waterfalls.  They are beautiful, but most of all, they are peaceful.  I could sit next to a waterfall for hours and just relax.  Unfortunately there aren't any around here.

I get tired of the waterfall sketch and turn the page.  I start sketching eyes then add a nose and a mouth.  I start shading.  Then I add details to the eyes and mouth.  Then I add hair, stringy hair.  It is then that I realize that I am drawing Lori.  I don't know why.  I stop and turn the page.  I start by drawing a tree.  One of the easiest things, for me anyway, to draw.  I give it a trunk, then branches, then I begin to shade it and give it bark.

“Is everyone done reading?” I hear Mr. Brown ask.  He passes a quiz to everyone but me.  I look at the clock.  A lot of time has passed.  There is only fifteen minutes left of class.  “When you are done, you may leave?” he announced.  I gathered all of my stuff and left.

It was the same in most of my classes.  Reading and tests.  They wonder why we get so bored.  Finally lunch came around.  I went to my locker and waited for Brandi.  Her class was nearby.  I, finally, spotted her exiting her class.  To my dismay, I saw Lori coming up behind her.  I couldn't get there fast enough.  Lori shoved her hard and laughed loud as she went on by.  Brandi’s class materials were in a heap on the floor and she had fallen.  The other students just walked around her like nothing had happened.  I reached her and helped her up.  I helped her pick up her things.  “Are you okay?” I asked.  “I guess so,” she answered.

We went to our lockers and she put her things away, “Why is she like that?  I haven't done anything to her.” 

“She's just a bully,” I answered, “I’m going to take care of it.”

“I heard,” she answered as we walked to the cafeteria, “I’m worried that you will get hurt, though.”

“I will be fine,” I reassured her, “don't worry.”

The cafeteria was pretty full again.  We went to sit with Leslie who had saved us some seats.  Thankfully we were far from Lori.  I didn't want to put Brandi into that situation.

Lunch was pretty good.  We had cheeseburgers, French fries, macaroni and cheese and apple pie.  I ate it all and felt a little better.  I chugged my chocolate milk.  I waited for Brandi and Leslie to finish, then we got up and turned our trays in. 

Out in the hall, Leslie left to go to her locker.  Brandi and I went to ours.  “Have I ever told you thank you?” Brandi asked.

“You don't have to,” I answered, “I know that you appreciate it.”

“I want to say it though,” she went on, “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” I responded.  We got our things out for our next classes.  I won't see her again until after our last class.  I walked her to her class, then hurried to mine.

Again, whispers and stares.  Instead of ignoring, I looked some of them in the eye, forcing them to look away.  I looked at the clock.  Six minutes until class starts.  “That's right.  I challenged Lori to a fight,” I announced and sat down.  There was clapping and cheers.  Even from the hallway.  I must have been really loud.  I smiled.  The applause died down and the classroom filled up.  The boy sitting next to me offered me help, if I need it.

“You will help me by staying away,” I answered, “Lori wants an audience.  She likes to put on a show.  I want it to just be me and her.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Will you spread that for me?” I asked.

“Sure will," he answered.

The teacher came in and class started.  I find history interesting.  We already read the chapter so the teacher would be lecturing today.  We're discussing the Revolutionary War.  I find war interesting too.  War in general.  What leads up to them, how they begin, what happens during them, how they end and what happens in the aftermath.  I wish that he would discuss strategy more.  Perhaps he doesn't know much about it.  I won't ask those types of question though.  He gets flustered when I embarrass him.  Sometimes he gets angry.

I just let the teacher talk.  I think that he likes to hear himself.  I love the class, just not the teacher.  I start sketching as he talks.  I am an expert at sketching and listening at the same time.  He would probably prefer that I take notes like everyone else.  I never take notes and I still have an A in his class.  I look at the clock.  There is only five minutes left.  I quietly get my stuff ready to go.  I bide my time until the bell rings.

I go to the locker and put my things away.  I head to the gymnasium for P.E.  I go in the gym locker room and change into school supplied shorts and a t-shirt.  Then I walk out into the gym and sit on the bleachers to wait for class to start.

Slowly more students started to trickle in and sit on the bleachers around me, but not with me.  I was relieved when I saw Sam and David headed my way.  They sat down on either side of me.

“I heard a rumor,” Sam told me, smiling.

“I challenged her to a fight,” I stopped him, loudly.  The whispers around me went quiet.

“That would be something to see,” David commented.

“Stay away,” I stopped him, loudly again, “She wants to perform for an audience.  Let's don't give her that.” 

“Okay,” David agreed.  I started hearing others agree. 

“That's too bad,” Sam said, “I would like to see you fight.” 

“You are all welcome to get up at dawn and watch me practice, if you really want to see that bad,” I announced.  Sam smiled and shook his head.

The coach came in and everyone went quiet.  He decided to go easy on us today.  No running laps.  He looked at me when he said it.  We played dodgeball.  I took three of the other team out before they got me.  I went to the bleachers and sat next to Sam.

“So, are all of the teachers going easy on you today,” he asked.

“Not all,” I answered, “Coach didn't have to , though.  I like to run.”

“It's a nice gesture though,” Sam replied.  I agreed.  The teachers will never voice their support.  They will show it in subtle ways.  Voicing support could get them fired.

After P. E. I change back into my uniform, skip my locker, and go straight to Art.  My last class of the day.  Also, my favorite class.  I get my painting out and set it on the table.  I go around and get the supplies that I need.  I put my smock on and get to work.  My painting was coming along nicely.  It was an oil painting of my parents in the most recent picture that I have of them together.  They both look so good together, so happy.  It is important that I capture the happiness.

My Art teacher, Mrs. Livingston, sits in the seat next to me, while waiting for the other students to arrive.  “That is coming along wonderfully,” she compliments.

“Thank you,” I respond.

“I was just wondering if there is a reason why you haven't been staying late this week,” she asked, “is something wrong?”

“I just have a friend that I walk home after school,” I answered, “she hasn't been feeling safe lately.”

“I see.  Well I just wanted to check in with you,” she said standing up.

Other students were arriving.  She went back to her desk.  I wonder if she doesn't know.  I was expecting her to ask about the fight.  To warn me against it, or something.  I forgot that I had been staying a little late every day.  Hopefully, after tonight I will be able to again.