Wednesday (part 2)

W .4

"That was pretty crazy," said Sajel. "I didn't think Jane had it in her."

The bell had rung, and the group had dispersed. Sajel, Zach and Christa all had classes to the north side of the school—up at the Homer Building and the newly-constructed Franklin Street Building. Sajel had once heard that Mount Hill's campus used to be a college. Considering the size of the place, she believed it.

"Yeah," said Christa, "that was a really brave thing for her to do."

"Probably do her some good, though," Zach said. "Maybe she'll learn not to be so up-tight about everything. Though," he added with a grin, "if she's really so uptight, the first person to have sex with her will be in for a hell of a ride."

"Excuse my boyfriend," Christa said. "He still thinks poo jokes are funny."

"Who do you think it's gonna be?" Zach asked. "My bet's on Brandon."

"What?" said Christa. Evidently she'd misplaced the thread of the conversation.

"Brandon?" Sajel said. "Have sex with Jane? He's kinda with Meredith at the moment."

"Yeah, and she's with him, but she slept with Rick Downing," said Zach. "I still can't believe she did that. But maybe they'll make a deal or something. Brandon can go sleep with someone else if he wants."

It did make a kind of twisted sense. But... "Would Brandon want to? I mean, he and Meredith were together for a long time and he never once said anything about Jane."

"No," said Christa. "He might. It's there, if you know how to look. Jane's right, he did move to Meredith really really quickly. And look at how much time he's been spending with Jane recently. There might still be something there."

"Yeah, but... What about Meredith?" Sajel said. "It doesn't matter what he had with Jane: what he has with Meredith is about a zillion times stronger. Even if Jane, like, threw herself at him, he might not even care."

"True," said Christa. "Zach, what made you bring up Brandon anyway?"

"Well, who else is there," Zach asked. "So far as we know, there isn't a man alive who's shown interest in Jane, besides Brandon."

"So far as we know," Christa said.

"Well, yeah," Zach said. "But what we don't know don't help us."

Sajel wasn't listening. There was someone standing in their path on the steps to the Homer Building. Someone she thought she recognized. "Oh shit." Immediately she cursed herself for letting her agitation show. As it was, Christa picked up on it.

"Why, what's wrong Sajel?" And then, "... Hey. Isn't that Garrett Song up there?"

It was Garrett Song. With flowers.

"Fuck," Sajel hissed, "he's waiting for us. Let's go around the back."

"No, he sees us, he'll just follow," Zach said.

Great! Now they'll humiliate me by making me humiliate him! Again! "Did you guys plan this or something?" Sajel snarled.

"What? No, we didn't!" said Zach, looking startled. "We have no idea what he's—"

Garrett Song's rather anemic voice cut through their conversation handily. "I realized I didn't do a very good job last time," he said. "So I thought I'd try again."

"Great," said Sajel, barely managing to conceal her bitterness.

"Sajel Malhotra," said Garrett. He presented the flowers with a flourish. "May I request the pleasure of your company for dinner, or a movie, or any other social interaction of your choice."

"She says yes," said Christa.

Sajel stared.

Zach took one look at Sajel's face and nodded vigorously. "Oh yes. Yes. She does."

"Tonight," Christa said.

Sajel glared.

"Well, I can't— Actually, I'm busy tonight, but how about tomorrow—" Garrett Song looked back and forth at the three of them in clear confusion. "Are... Are you sure about—"

"Quite sure," said Christa. "She's just stunned by the generosity of your offer at the moment. I'm sure she'll recover her voice quite soon, at which point she will definitely agree, and very kindly too." She took the flowers from Garrett's hands and pressed them into Sajel's. "See," she said, beaming. "See how happy she is?"

"Yes," said Sajel through gritted teeth. "Very happy. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to have a word with my two mouthpieces here. Garrett, I'll see you later—"

"We have the next class together, remember?" Garrett said.

Sajel's face twitched in a most unpleasant fashion.

Christa saw. "Right, we do need to head off to class now, so, we'll catch you later," she said.

"Okay," said Garrett.

And then they all had to walk up the stairs together.

Once they got up to the second floor, Sajel grabbed her friends and dragged them into the little sitting room at one corner of the building. She barely knew where to begin. These stupid... Ridiculous... Pathetic...

"Uh-oh," said Zach cheerfully. "She's mad." Probably trying to lighten the situation with humor.

"Damn right I'm mad," Sajel growled. Now that she'd gotten something out, the floodgates opened, and she ripped into them. "What the fuck was all that about? Am I an invalid? Am I no longer capable of taking care of myself? What am I, your child or something?"

"Sajel—" Christa began.

"No," said Sajel. "No. Don't you go handling me, Christa Mackenzie Sternbacher. I'm not just some piece of furniture you can go push around."

"Mackenzie?" Zach murmured.

"Where did you learn all these middle names?" Christa grumbled.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't like him?" Sajel raged. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was telling him no to save him the embarrassment of finding out later? That I was trying to keep both our feelings from being hurt?"

"God," Zach mumbled. "She keeps her anger on hand too. Just like Brandon."

"And furthermore, I am not a child! I am capable of making my own decisions, of taking care of myself, of speaking for myself! That's extremely rude and very insulting. I'm glad to see your opinion of me expressed so fucking candidly—"

"Well, sheesh, Saje, considering what you're yelling now, is it no wonder we don't let you talk?" Zach laughed.

"Shut up, Zach!" Sajel roared. "You're an asshole and you never know when to shut up! A million points from Zach!"

There was silence on the echo of her words.

Someone stuck her head into the room. Dr. Zelvetti. She looked from Zach's shocked face to Christa's chagrined face to Sajel's furious face. "Wow, what's going on. Are we practicing for a play or something?"

"Uh... Nothing, Dr. Z," said Christa. "We'll just be... Moving along to class now."

Dr. Zelvetti's eyebrows bobbed. "See that you do."

In the silence, Zach looked back and forth at them and said, "Speaking of which, sweetie, I do need to get off to class... Are you gonna be okay here?"

"I think we're under control," Christa said.

Sajel wanted to retort that this was a goddamn presumptuous thing to say, but she could feel her anger ebbing already.

"'K. Good luck. Love you." He kissed her on the cheek and scampered off.

"Sajel," said Christa quietly. "We only did what, if it was tomorrow, you'd have wished we'd done today."

Sajel had no answer to that.

"You know who else needs to lighten up? You." Christa did not raise her voice. It wasn't necessary. "You're always so sure everything's going to be a disaster. When are you going to calm down and live for a change?"

Sajel said nothing.

"Now, come on," said Christa. She took Sajel's elbow. "The bell's going to ring soon. We'd better get to class."

Sajel allowed herself to be ushered away, her mind awhirl, and only noticed after they sat down that Garrett had not been sitting in the classroom when they arrived but had, in fact, followed them in, and that he might have actually heard everything that was said in that tiny room.

Christa, heading to the classroom next door, also saw. She figured that Garrett must've simply gone off somewhere else—say, to the bathroom—because Dr. Zelvetti had stuck her head into the conversation, and if Garrett had been there, lurking outside, Dr. Z. would have almost certainly said something. But it was better to be safe than sorry. So after class ended, she raced outside and intercepted Garrett as he left. Sajel, thankfully, was off in her own little world—angry, or upset, or simply preoccupied—and didn't notice. She dragged him into the same little corner room as before.

Christa wasted no time. "How much did you hear of our conversation before class?"

Garrett blinked at her. "Nothing. I was in the bathroom." Either he was telling the truth, or he had gotten startled innocence down to an art form.

Christa weighed the alternatives and came to her decision. "Right, well. Listen. You probably noticed that Sajel was balking over you, right?"

"Yes, I'd... Say I noticed that," said Garrett. "It struck me as... Odd."

"Yes, well, there's a reason for that," said Christa. "—Her oddness, I mean, not it striking you as— Well." A large part of her was balking, thundering, you should not say this, you should not say this!—and it seemed to be interfering with her speech. "You see, something happened to her as a child. She—"

Garrett said, "Miss Sternbacher, I appreciate your help, but, it seems to me that this is the sort of thing Sajel should be telling me. Seeing as she hasn't, I'd guess she doesn't want me to know. So, perhaps, you shouldn't tell me it."

Christa stared at him, gaping soundlessly, for a moment. "Yes. Yes, that is probably... Best." At least it let her off the hook. "I shouldn't be doing things like that."

"You should be doing," Garrett said, "whatever you can to help your friends. But if Sajel ever found out what you had told me—and she undoubtedly would—she would never trust either of us again. And then what have we accomplished?"

Christa nodded. He was right. "You are wise beyond your years, Garrett Song."

He shrugged and smiled. "No, not really."

"What makes you interested in Sajel, anyway?" Christa asked. "Why did you pick her? Out of all the thousands of people at this school?"

Garrett was silent for a moment. He stared, not at her, but past her.

"I know she has a secret," he said. "I can tell. You go to school with someone for years, and you start to learn things about them. And I can see the way her life bends around this secret, even though I don't know what it is."

"You see very clearly," Christa said.

"I suppose so," said Garrett, sounding uncomfortable. "Maybe. But I know what I saw. And even without knowing what that secret is... I know I can get around it. If she'll let me in."

"If she'll let you in," Christa agreed.

He smiled down at her. "I had some help in that regard. One might almost say you knew I was coming."

Christa shook her head. "Luck of the draw, unfortunately. We were desperate to get her to associate with anyone. Just our luck that we should pick someone so appropriate."

He nodded.

"But I have to ask you, Garrett," said Christa. "You sound confident. But can you really do what you say? She's very fragile inside. One misstep could destroy her. Do you think you can actually break through to her?"

"Well..." said Garrett. "No one can say anything for certain. But, I know her pretty well. And I'm willing to try."

Christa nodded, slowly at first, and then with more conviction. Better than nothing. "Good." Good enough. And maybe... Good enough is all we'll need.

W .5

Arie squinted. "Just what the hell is going on over there?"

"Over where," Christa asked.

Arie pointed at Trina, on the other side of the Music Building lobby. Trina was definitely naked, as befitting a participant in the Naked In School Program, but she was also...

"Is she, like... Doing a lap-dance or something??" Christa asked.

"Who's doing a lap-dance?" Meredith asked. She and Brandon glanced over. "Wow. Ohhhh my goodness."

"Arie, where the heck did your sister learn to do that?" Brandon said.

Jane stared, eyes bulging. "I didn't know it was possible to do that."

"And Jane's education proceeds apace," said Christa.

There was a large crowd of boys gathered around, and for good reason—Trina was slinking around like a stripper, twisting this way, arching that way, generally showing off to all and sundry... And doing a damn good job of it. The boys loved it. Derek chuckled, low and throaty. "She sure knows what she's doing."

Arie elbowed him in the ribs.

Derek made a strangled yelp. He glared at her. "What? It's the truth. Look at that!"

"She is doing a spectacular job over there," Meredith said dryly. "And... Oh!—looks like the Rule Three barrier came down, 'cause they're all crowding in for a feel."

"Why is she doing this?" Arie cried. "Why is she whoring herself out like this? First Alex Masterson, now all these guys."

"Well, at first glance, I'd say she's trying to get their attention," Christa said.

"Yes, but... Why," Arie said. "If you ask me, you shouldn't need to shove your tits in their face to make them notice you—if they're interested, they'll notice you anyway. The people who come for your tits aren't the kind of people you'd really want."

"That's a very mature attitude, Arie," Christa said, "but I'm not sure how true it is. Dr. Zelvetti says that people who go through The Program are four times more likely to form new romantic relationships during that week, and two and a half times as likely the week after. Are they attracting outside attention, or just encouraging people who would've said something anyway?"

Brandon blinked. "Where'd Dr. Zelvetti get those numbers?"

"She did a survey," said Christa.

"You can get statistics to say just about anything if you torture them long enough," Brandon said.

"I know, that's what Dr. Z. said. But she's a psychologist, and she says they're trained to get reliable statistics." Christa shrugged. "And when has Dr. Z. ever been wrong before?"

"Jane?" Arie asked.

"Yeah, but, even that might turn out okay," Christa said.

"Yeah right," said Arie skeptically.

"Yeah right," said Jane, but for entirely different reasons.

"What I want to know is, how come she's able to find out who's dating who," Derek said. "I mean, that's hallway gossip, not homework or official school business or something. How does she find out?"

Brandon shrugged. "Maybe she has microphones hidden all over the school." What should've been a laughing comment sagged into callous flatness. Derek made a mental note to talk to Christa. This constant weariness of Brandon's was... Worrisome.

"They're done with her," said Meredith. "They're all leaving." And then, "... She's coming over here."

"Well, then, you can ask her what she's doing," Jane said.

"No!" Arie cried. "No way! I can't do that!" She'd done that far too many times over the past year or so, and every time Trina had used it to hurt her. If only her actions weren't so goddamn inscrutable all the time...

"Fine," Jane sighed, "I'll do it for you. Hey, Trina!"

Arie jerked her head away.

"Arie needs help with getting her hooks in people," Jane said, "and since you're so good at it, we thought we'd ask you." She beamed at Arie. "There, see, it wasn't that hard."

She found herself facing a wall of blank faces.

"What, what'd I say?" she said.

Trina's face underwent the most alarming transformation, becoming cruel and malicious. Derek was reminded of a villain from a Disney movie.

"Wow," she said with a gleeful smile. "My older sister! Arie Chang herself, the queen of the school, the reigning diva of—oh. I forgot. The little porch on the north side of Stetsen." She sauntered closer, her swaying hips adding emphasis to her words. "And this... Stunning... Example. Of dignity. Is asking me. For advice."

Arie covered her face with her hands. Jane looked like someone watching a train wreck.

Meredith plunged in. "Yes, Trina. We want to know why you were doing what you just did." And then, "We're worried about you."

Derek winced. This was probably the wrong thing to say. Or did Meredith know that, and say it anyway because of the reaction it would cause? Because it certainly caused one. "Oh! Oh!" exclaimed Trina in acerbic tones. "You're worried! Oh me oh my! What have I done to make you worry about me!"

"What," said Christa acidly. "Is it illegal for us to notice when you're doing something stupid?"

"Something stupid, you say?" said Trina. "I say I had a stroke of brilliance. Didn't you notice? They love me."

"Just like Alex Masterson loved you," Arie asked.

Trina jerked, just slightly, and then met her sister's gaze coolly. "Yes. Just like that."

"And this is important to you," Arie asked. She was leaning forward slightly and her face was set into an intense concentration that told Derek she'd just had a brainstorm. "This is important enough to you that you don't mind people feeling everything you've got, from tonsils to toenails."

Derek expected anger, expected derision, expected bluster—but Trina gave a facial twitch, barely detectable, and looked to one side. "Well. Everyone wants to be liked sometimes."

Arie's gaze flicked to Derek's, so quickly he would have missed it had he not been expecting it. In that brief instant of eye contact he saw and shared her triumph. You did it, you got it, you made it!

Unfortunately, it wasn't until after choir practice was over that Arie could really explain. Brandon and Meredith stayed to supervise Jane, who had been accosted with a Rule Three, so it was only Christa and Derek who received her revelation. "That was it, that was the whole key. She doesn't just want to be liked sometimes. She wants to be liked. By everybody. All the time."

"Are... Are you sure?" said Christa, peering at Arie. "That's not what she acts like in orchestra practice. She's really polite there."

"I hope she also isn't doing that whole flirty-shove-my-boobs-in-your-face thing in the middle of practice," Derek said.

"No, thank God," said Christa. "Ms. Bickson has enough trouble getting us to concentrate as it is. But Trina never causes trouble. She's always... Well, she's always on top of things. She knows her part, she doesn't get lost, she comes in at the right time..." This was of particular importance to every orchestra member: anyone besides a violinist could often find themselves sitting silently for minutes at a time. "She's a model student."

"I guess that kind of works," said Derek. "I mean, you know the stereotypes about the, like, the student body president who gets straight A's but still hangs out with the popular crowd. But... None of them ever go cavorting around like that. Not even Shannon Salvolestra."

"No, see, that's the thing," said Arie. "You only proved my point."

"How?" Christa asked.

"Trina isn't trying to be that kind of ultra-popular girl," said Arie. "Or, at least, that's not all she's trying to be. Everyone thinks highly of a different kind of person, right? She's trying to be all those things to all those people. At once."

Derek said nothing, staring at the unspeakable insanity of the idea—and yet the unspeakable truth.

"She wants... What? To be popular? To be well-liked? To be Homecoming Queen? Look who she goes to immediately when she has the chance. Alex Masterson. Big Man On Campus. And look what she does. She hides her flaws. She hides her scars. Of course it doesn't work, but you can always find people who will stare at your boobs if you shove 'em under their noses. They won't ask questions. She can't have the Big Man On Campus, but she can have most of the men on campus if she's careful, and she goes for it. But to the teachers, she's perfect. She turns in her homework on time and she sits quietly and she doesn't disturb class and... You know, all that stuff. I bet," Arie added grimly, "that when she's with her girlfriends she tells them she'd never have sex, and that all that stuff about Alex Masterson is a lie. She has to be perfect. She has to be perfect to everybody. She can't stand being seen as having a flaw, no matter what flaw and no matter by whom."

"But what about that stuff you said you heard at recess," Christa asked. "About how Mr. Cavanaugh knew she wasn't turning in homework and stuff. That's a flaw."

"I said she was trying to do it, I didn't say she was succeeding," Arie said. "Look at what she's trying to do. That's a huge, impossible goal. She has to— First off, she has to know what to be like for any given group of people. Then she has to be it. Of course she's having problems. Especially after Alex Masterson started spreading her scars around. Now everybody knows her flaws. That thing with all the boys during break must have been great for her—you know, it was like, Yay, I can still do it, I can still make people like me even though they know I'm screwed up. But I don't know if it will last."

Christa looked at Arie for a long time. "I don't know if this is accurate," she said at last.

"I do," Arie said. "I know Trina. It fits. Derek, you tell her."