Thursday (part 1)

Th .1

When Jane came to school on Thursday morning Russell Hebbert was waiting at the boxes. She rolled her eyes. The fellow was nothing if not predictable.

"So, what's it going to be today," she asked. "Jane Tahoe Donner? Jane Bronwyn Satoracci? The Jane in Spain stays mainly in the plain?"

Russell, who had been about to say something entirely uncreative along the lines of 'Jane Dunkirk Haggis-on-Whey, ' closed his mouth with a clomp.

"Well," said Jane, "if you're going to do it, let's get it over with." She slung her backpack to the ground and, ignoring Russell's confused stare, began to remove her clothes.

A small part of Jane watched the proceedings in a cascade of emotions. I wouldn't've done this week ago. Heck, I wouldn't've done this a day ago. I know I said I'd give it a shot, but... This is pushing it a little bit.

The rest of her, however, would not be dissuaded. Jane Myers had risen from bed that morning with a pounding determination in her heart. They aren't going to get to me. They won't bring me down. They think I can't loosen up? Well, I'll show them. They won't believe what they'll see. They won't.

And now here she was, facing Russell Hebbert across a gaping three feet of stunned silence, wearing nothing but the skin she had been born in.

"There," she said. "Does that satisfy you?"

He had recovered his poise. "I dunno. Does that satisfy you?"

Though he looked calm, she he had him off-balance. She could tell. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I am quite satisfied with the proceedings right now." Russell Hebbert off-balance was all she thought she could get away with—but that didn't make it any less of a victory.

"Good," he said. "Then I'm satisfied too."

And then he walked away without trying to feel her up. She stared after him, vexed. She was never going to be able to predict him.

She left Russell Hebbert and his dilemmas behind and went over to Stetsen, where her friends were congregating. Most everyone was there; the only people missing were Jeff and Arie. Arie's absence Jane didn't mind too much; it wasn't that she disliked Arie, it was simply that Arie was a little too wild sometimes. Not that I'm not going wild, a little bit, Jane thought to herself. But then, I'm not a risk-taker. Arie would jump off a cliff just to see what it was like. And Jeff... Occasionally made her nervous. He acted like he could see straight through her. And the thing is, he might actually be able to.

"Here she is!" Christa said, beaming. "The lady of the week! Jane Myers herself, strutting her stuff."

Zach held out an imaginary microphone. "So, Ms. Myers, how does it feel to be standing here in public wearing absolutely nothing? Be honest now."

Sajel leaned close to Derek and said in a very loud whisper, "... Are they collaborating?"

"God forbid," Derek said.

Jane faced Zach with a gunbarrel gaze. "You don't know me."

Zach's face faded and he took a step back. "Yeah, that's obvious." He mumbled, almost to himself: "I don't think anyone does right now."

"I'm not the Jane you knew," Jane said. "That girl is gone, at least for a while. Don't expect to answer when you ask for Jane."

Brandon frowned. "And who is it we have now, then?"

"Yeah," said Zach, grappling vainly for humor. "Who are you, and what have you done with Jane?"

"She'll be back," Jane said. "But she's made some changes. Until The Program ends, she's not going to hold back."

"What do you mean?" Christa said. "You're going to participate?"

"Yes," Jane said. "I won't flinch. I won't shirk. Anything they ask me to do, I'll do."

There was an explosion of cheers and shouting.

"Awesome!" Zach exclaimed.

"Jane, that's great," Christa said. I'm proud of you."

"That's really brave," Sajel said.

"And kinda dangerous," Meredith said. "Anything? Seriously anything?"

"Oh come on, Meredith," Stasya said, "don't be a party-pooper. No one's gonna ask for anything ridiculous."

"Yes, but, ridiculous to them is a lot different from ridiculous to Jane," Meredith said. "She's still really inexperienced. How do we know this isn't going to lead her straight back into another nervous breakdown?

But nobody was listening. They clamored around Jane with encouragements and praise. Meredith looked at Brandon. "Brandon, tell me you agree with me."

He shrugged. "Sorry, Meredith, but I think this is a good step for Jane. Sure, maybe something'll come up, but she can always come ask us for help."

"On the spot?" Meredith said. "Someone wants to feel her up and she says 'Hold on' and comes over to ask?"

But Brandon didn't respond, and she saw that he wasn't bothered by the idea.

She sighed. Maybe she was overreacting. I slept with Rick Downing, for heaven's sake. My judgment's definitely not the most trustworthy. And besides, Brandon hasn't, like, outright dumped me or anything yet. Maybe good things do happen sometimes.

But I'm keeping my eyes open, just in case.

Th .2

When Trina Chang came to the Principal's Office, she was surprised to see Arie Chang there as well. "What the," said Trina. "What's she doing here."

"She's here as a damping rod," said Dr. Zelvetti pleasantly. "She's here to keep things under control and to make sure I don't lose my temper." On those last words, her voice dropped precipitously. "She's here to protect you, in other words. Would you care to have her sent away?"

Oh my, Arie thought. She had never heard Dr. Zelvetti quite so... Aggravated. If Trina's smart, she won't say Yes.

Trina was smart. "No," she said. Grudgingly. Trina was smart, but she wasn't one to back down, either.

"Good," said Dr. Zelvetti, all smiles and charm. "Have a seat."

"What's this about," Trina asked. She sat down in a chair across the desk from Dr. Zelvetti. On her way down, she shot a murderous glance at Arie, who was sitting composedly on a couch set against the wall. Don't look at me, Arie thought. I am exactly as Dr. Z says. I am here to protect you... Among other things.

Dr. Zelvetti had been skeptical when Arie suggested this meeting, but Arie had insisted. "You've got a perfectly good excuse," she'd said. "You're concerned about what you've heard in the halls about Trina and her scars. And how they were discovered." This was not much of a lie; Dr. Z was concerned, and Arie knew it.

"And why can't you do this chewing-out all by yourself," Dr. Zelvetti asked.

"She wouldn't listen to me," Arie said. "I've burst her bubble one too many times. She just doesn't listen to anything I say anymore."

"And you think she'll listen to me?" Dr. Zelvetti said.

"She will," Arie said. "She still wants you to respect her." ... At least, I hope.

Trina perched ill-at-ease on the chair. Dr. Zelvetti regarded her over the top of her glasses. "I've heard some pretty troubling things about you and Alex Masterson," she said.

"Really," said Trina, like the sound of a blade being drawn. "Who told you this?"

"People," said Dr. Zelvetti blankly. "People around the school. It's not exactly a secret right now," she reminded her.

Trina scowled. "No, it isn't."

Dr. Zelvetti rapped a stack of papers against the desk to straighten them out, and then laid them off to one side. "Care to talk about it?"

"Look," Trina growled. "Just because my sister confides in you doesn't mean I'm going to—"

"Arie?" Dr. Zelvetti said. "Confides in me?... First I've heard of it."

"I talked to her once, Trina," said Arie, deciding she might accomplish something by entering the conversation. "I talked to her once, about what to do when I found out about you." That you cut and purge and are depressed, just like me. "That was almost a year ago. We haven't really had a meaningful conversation since then."

"And more's the pity," Dr. Z said to her. "You should drop in more often, Arie."

Arie rolled her eyes. "What, and ruin my perfectly good reputation?"

"You have a perfectly good reputation," Trina spat. "Everyone loves you. It's like you shit solid gold or something."

Arie blinked. "Really? Me?... First I've heard of it."

"All your teachers love you," Trina snarled. "They drag me aside after class and they're like, 'Oh, you're such a nice girl, Trina, I taught your sister two years ago, you know, she was always a little quiet in class, but, oh, that was before we knew about her, she was so brave, suffering without a word... ' Bullshit. You didn't have it stolen from you. You didn't have somebody else tell how fucked up you were."

"I screwed up, I admit it, I'm sorry," Arie said, holding her hands up. "I should've gone to you privately, not to our parents behind your back. I was..." Emotion surged up in her throat and burst out in a wave of sound. "I was scared, Trina, I was scared for you. I knew I couldn't help you on my own. I wasn't sure what to do."

"How about leaving me alone," Trina said caustically. "How about letting me solve my problems my own way."

"What, like fucking Alex Masterson?" Arie asked.

"Yes," said Trina.

Arie said nothing, only stared.

"Really now," said Dr. Zelvetti into the quiet. "Now that is one of the most bizarre things I have ever heard. Trina, what did you hope to accomplish by sleeping with Alex Masterson?"

"Getting a boyfriend, for one," Trina said.

"With your pussy?" Arie asked. "That's not how it's done, Trina."

"Oh really," Trina retorted. "News to me. And to most of the cheerleaders and the school sluts. Seems to work for them."

Dr. Zelvetti chuckled. "She seems to have you there, Arie."

"All right, she does," Arie said. Thanks, Dr. Z. Make me play the psychologist while you clown around. "But is that what you want, Trina?"

Trina snorted. "Fuck it. Anything to get my life to work."

Dr. Zelvetti didn't move, much, but Arie felt the cone of her concentration narrowing to a razor's edge, felt it almost like a physical thing. "And what exactly do you want out of your life, Trina?"

"Fuck, not this," Trina said. "Not people giving me fucked-up looks in the halls, not boys steering clear of me, not everyone being so fucking solicitous about— They can't decide whether to hold me accountable for homework, did you know that? One minute they'll be like, 'Well, Trina, you can take a pass on this 'cause you're all fucked up in the head, ' and the next they're like, 'You better do that homework, Trina, some work'll be good for you, ' and I'm like, Well fuck it, make up your mind!"

"You want people to start... You want everyone to treat you the same way?" Dr. Zelvetti asked.

"No, they can treat me however the fuck they want to," Trina said. "But I'm sick and tired of being the screwed-up one. Can't I be normal for once?"

"And fucking Alex Masterson is..." Arie said. "Normal."

Trina gave a snort of laughter. "Judging by the cheerleaders, yeah, it kind of is."

"So, not just normal," said Dr. Zelvetti, "but extra-normal. The kind of thing the popular ones do. A sign of proper social adjustment."

"Social adjustment my ass," said Trina, "I don't know about any of that scientific shit. But it works, doesn't it? When Alex Masterson bags some new girl, everyone pays attention."

"So it's not just that you want to be normal," Dr. Zelvetti said. "You want to be popular. Appreciated. Loved."

Trina rolled her eyes, as if to say, Duh. "Of course. I mean, she can do it—" She tossed her head in Arie's direction. "—so why can't I?"

"I didn't fuck Alex Masterson," Arie said mildly.

"It always goes back to him, doesn't it," said Dr. Zelvetti dryly.

"Yeah, and look where you are," Trina retorted. "Middle of nowhere. You could have it all, but instead you're settling for that dipshit boyfriend of yours—what is he on, the chess team? Do you have any idea what kind of reputation you've got around the school?"

"No," said Arie honestly, feeling her heart thudding stronger. Reputation? Anyone knows I exist? —I mean, beyond all the scars and shit?

"And you want what she has," Dr. Zelvetti said.

"Well, duh," said Trina. Arie could see their stock plummeting minute by minute, could almost read Trina's thoughts on her face: Isn't this woman supposed to have a Ph.D. or something? "Who wouldn't?"

Me, Arie said, but only to herself.

"And the thing is," said Trina. "It got wasted on you. I'd know what to do with it."

"Which is what?" Arie said.

"Use it, of course," Trina said. "When people know you, you use it! You get what you want from them!"

"Respect," Dr. Zelvetti said.

"Adoration," Arie said.

"Love," Dr. Zelvetti said.

Trina said nothing, only stared down at her hands. Or perhaps at her naked thighs, which her hands rested on. Arie had seen the makeup.

"Do you want to know how Arie got what she has, Trina," Dr. Zelvetti asked.

"Yes," said Trina quietly, and Arie was startled to hear the sheer, unhappy need in her voice. She didn't know what to make of it. All this time I've kept reaching out to her, avoiding her, reaching out, avoiding her... Never sure if she wanted to be helped. Well, now I know. She does want. She's just saying things when she yells at me, she does want. "Yes," said Trina again. "I would."

"It's not by sleeping with Alex Masterson," said Dr. Zelvetti. "It's by being herself."

Trina shook her head. "Yeah right. Nobody loves you when you're yourself." She gave a humorless laugh. "Fuck. Look at me."

"You're wrong," said Dr. Zelvetti, not unkindly. "Wrong on all three counts. For one, Arie is herself, and she is loved. Well, not by everyone, but by the people who count: her friends. Her nerdy boyfriend, who, actually, isn't president of the chess club, Trina, he's president of the choir. Her best friend Brandon and her boyfriend Derek and her friends Christa and Meredith. For two, I can tell you about four people who love you, Trina Anli Chang, and two of them are in this room right now. And finally... You're wrong, Trina, about being yourself. You're not yourself. Not when you do things like that. Tell me, do you like Alex Masterson?"

"No," said Trina in a small voice.

"Do you think he's handsome? Attractive? Fine? Smokin'? Hot?"

Arie was amused to hear street slang spilling from Dr. Zelvetti's mouth with such verbal precision, but Trina was nowhere near laughter. "No."

"And yet you had sex with him. You even gave him your virginity. Why?"

"To make him like me," Trina said.

"And when he found out how you'd fooled him," Dr. Zelvetti asked, her eyes infinitely kind, "did he still like you?"

"No," Trina sniffled.

"Then tell me how you were being yourself," Dr. Zelvetti said gently.

For a long moment there were only the broken sounds of Trina crying. Arie restrained herself from rushing over to hug her. Vindictive bitch though she is.

It might've been a mistake. Or maybe it wasn't. Because suddenly Trina reared from the chair, tears still tracking down her face—but she wore a mask of utter fury, pale and frightening to behold, and Arie felt herself nailed to the wall by her words. "YOU ALWAYS RUIN MY LIFE! ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS! YOU THINK IT'S COOL TO JUST PRANCE IN AND FUCK ME UP, BUT IT'S NOT, YOU HEAR ME, IT'S NOT! I HATE YOU!!!" And then she ran.

Stunned silence enveloped the room. Arie looked away from Dr. Zelvetti's shocked face and swallowed heavily. Her gaze fell upon the clock. "Wow," she said gamely. "The bell hasn't rung yet. It didn't even take all of recess."

Dr. Zelvetti said, "Every time you try to help her, she just backfires it in your face, doesn't she."

"Yeah, well." Arie grimaced. "It's the only way I can get revenge on her." And the only way I can help her.

"Well, you just keep trying," Dr. Zelvetti said, "and I'm sure she'll understand, one day." And Arie had the strangest feeling that she was answering, not what Arie had said, but what she'd left silent.

"Yeah. Right." Arie stood to go. "We can only hope."

Th .3

"Excuse me. Sajel Malhotra?"

At first Sajel thought she was dreaming, reliving it all over again. Her next thought was that somehow she'd fallen through a time warp, and it really was Monday again. But then she felt her lips move, and someone said, "Garrett"—her, she said it—and everything came smashing back.

"Hey," said Garrett. "Do you mind if we talk in private for a moment?"

Yes, she did mind. She minded a lot. She minded being infringed upon, she minded having her friends shove her around and make up her mind for her like she was some sort of brainless moron, she minded having been shoved into this thing she didn't really want, she minded having to talk to him, Garrett Song, six feet tall and so polite, his eyes clear and steady on hers behind his glasses, his voice quiet, his full lips, was he a good kisser? Yes. She definitely, definitely minded.

"Sure," she said. "Fine. Let's talk."

He led her a few yards away, leaving the rest of her friends behind. She didn't look back. Garrett did, and saw Christa start to follow them, saw Meredith hold her back with a hand.

"Listen..." he said. "I wanted to tell you something."

"Okay," Sajel said, wondering what it could be. 'I'm married.' 'I have cancer.' 'I'm secretly a lesbian.' "Go on."

"Your friend Christa tried to tell me something about you yesterday," Garrett said.

Panic and rage shot through her in equal amounts. "What!"

"She said something about some sort of condition you have," Garrett said. And then, before she could explode: "Or, at least, she tried to."

Sajel blinked at him.

"I told her I didn't want her to tell me," he explained. "I figured that, if it's important enough for you to tell me, you would. And if not, well, it's none of my business, is it."