Chapter One
Friday afternoon, ninth-grade art class, final period.
Two girls spat sunflower seeds at the blue-eyed blonde.
Birgit Neilsen, the blonde girl, tossed her ponytail. âCut it out!â She shook the sticky seeds from her hair and spun around to face her tormentors. âSlobs!â Her eyes were like ice.
The girls at the next bench, ShelleyCrewell and Mona Teasedale, eyed each other in mock horror.
âDid you hear that, Shell?â said Mona, the bigger girl. Black mascara circled her eyes. She looked like a raccoon.
Shelley acted shocked. âOoooh, Mona!â Shelleyâs dark hair was streaked with a single white skunk stripe across the top of her head from front to back.
Mona said, âShe called us slobs! Weâre not slobs, are we, Shell?â
âNo, Mona, weâre not! If anyoneâs a slob around here itâs Miss Superior. If you ask meâ¦â Shelley whispered into Monaâs ear.
Monaâs laughter erupted in a spluttering giggle that sent a spray of wet sunflower seeds into Birgitâs hair.
âYou two animals belong in a zoo,â Birgit hissed. She snatched up her work and moved out of range.
âItâs not me,â Shelley lied. âIâm eating a Mars bar. Look!â She held up a chocolate bar, still in its wrapper. Her eyes were wide and innocent.
âWhatâs the trouble here?â The art teacher was a big man with a beard and brown hair that fell below his collar. âShelley? Mona? You planning on working today?â
Except for their jaws, the two girls didnât move. They chewed sunflower seeds.
âWell?â
âSure, Mr. Paddock.â Mona eased her feet off the stool and slouched against the bench. Shelley followed suit with exaggerated slowness.
âAnd sunflower seeds are forbidden in here. You know that. Stay behind after class and clean that mess off the floor.â As Mr. Paddock moved away, Mona jerked a finger at his retreating back. Shelley sniggered.
On the bench next to Mona and Shelley, a girl named Jessie Jones was busy making tiny clay pellets. She fired them through a pen barrel at a boy named Dietrich Mueller, two rows in front of her. She wore a reversed baseball cap and a T-shirt that had
Kill!
written in black letters on it.
Dietrich turned and grinned. âWho keepsdoing that?â he asked, looking at everyone behind him. He looked at Jessie. âItâs you, isnât it?â He giggled.
Jessie looked innocent. âDeet? You talking to me?â
Dietrich giggled again. âI know itâs you, Jess. I know itâs you.â Dietrich didnât fully understand why people called him Deet. He thought it was simply a friendly way of saying his name. He didnât know that it was the common name of an insect repellent. âHow are the flies today, Deet?â kids asked him. Dietrich always laughed, thinking they were being friendly. Deet was a friendly boy.
Jessie answered, âItâs not me, Deet. Must be the mosquitoes, huh?â
Deet laughed and went back to his clay sculpture.
Jessie looked at Shelley. âWhatâs with her highness there?â She nodded in Birgitâs direction.
âYou mean Miss Superior? She thinks sheâs too good for the rest of us,â said Shelley. âCalled us slobs. Ainât that right, Mona?â
âWe should teach her a lesson,â grunted Mona.
âYeah, why not?â said Shelley. âWe Creekside girls gotta stick together.â
âGet her in the stockroom,â Jessie suggested.
âAnd then what?â asked Mona.
âPaint her pretty colors,â laughed Shelley.
âYou gotta get her in the stockroom first,â said Jessie. âLeave her to me, okay?â She headed for Birgitâs bench. âI saw what they did, Birgit,â she said. âThe sunflower seeds, I mean. Youâre right. They are a couple of slobs.â
Birgit didnât look
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