With Friends Like These by Reshonda Tate Billingsley Page A

Angel all lowered our heads in shame.
    “Auntie Rachel, I don’t know why they don’t like me.” Tameka’s whole tone had changed. She was whining like a little girl. And where had those tears come from? She was so full of it.
    “I was just trying to help them out with some advice and Jasmine all but attacked me,” Tameka quickly added.
    “Save it, Tameka. I was born in the morning, but it wasn’t this morning. I know you’re not innocent in all of this.”
    It was Tameka’s turn to look down at the floor. I was glad Rachel was finally letting her have it.
    “And Jasmine, you know better than to put your hands on anybody! I’ve told you girls, violence doesn’t solve a single thing. I’m so ashamed of all of you! Sit down!”
    We all made our way back to our seats. I knew there was no point in trying to defend myself or the girls with Rachel being as mad as she was. So I took my seat and didn’t say a word.
    Rachel was right. We hadn’t said or done a thing about our community service program. Lately all we’d been concerned about was the teen show. Even Angel, who wasn’t even auditioning had gotten all wrapped up in trying to help someone win.
    I knew things had gotten out of hand, but I definitely wasn’t prepared for what came out of Rachel’s mouth next.
    “Y’all think I’m playing. If I hear about one more problem stemming from this teen show job, I’ll personally tell Shereen that she should open it up to one of the nearby high schools, because it’s obvious to me that you ladies can’t handle this!”
    “Miss Rachel,” I protested. “You can’t do that.”
    “Watch me. Any more problems, just watch me!”
    Rachel was cool and all, but the look on her face said she meant business. One more problem, and all of us could forget about hosting anything.

20
Camille
    I wasn’t about to fall for any more of Tameka’s stupid tricks. I think we had all figured out that while she was always trying to act like she was helping, all she was really doing was trying to make us look crazy.
    As Jasmine and I walked into our English class, we were talking about the letter Tameka had started circulating around school. She was begging people to vote for her in this competition. There wasn’t even a voting section of the auditions, but she was asking people to sign a “support petition.”
    “She must’ve accidentally slid this one into my locker,” Jasmine said as she held out the flyer, complete with a color picture of Tameka all dressed up and holding a microphone.
    “Dang, she’s really going all out for this, huh?” I said.
    “Yeah, the girl is serious. I mean, I want the job too, don’t get me wrong, but we swore we wouldn’t let this ruin our friendship, and here she goes trying every underhanded thing she can think of,” Jasmine said. She pulled the door open and walked into the classroom. Tameka was sitting in the back and stared at us coldly when we walked in.
    Jasmine walked over to her seat, which was right next to Tameka’s. She rolled her eyes, then sat down.
    “Okay, class. This is D day, as in due day. I need all of your research papers, and I need them now, minus the excuses of course!” our English teacher, Mrs. Lacy, snapped in her usual no-nonsense tone.
    There was no noise except for the sound of backpacks being unzipped and people digging into their bags for their research papers.
    I glanced over my shoulder to see Jasmine frantically flipping through her book bag. She slapped her forehead and started looking through the bag again. I looked over at Tameka, who had this grin across her face. I turned around and handed my research paper to the student Mrs. Lacy had picking them up.
    “Miss Jones, is there a problem?” Mrs. Lacy must’ve noticed the frantic look on Jasmine’s face.
    Everyone turned to look at Jasmine.
    “Um, I can’t seem to find my paper,” she sulked.
    “Oh, is that so?” Mrs. Lacy said.
    “No, seriously. I don’t know what happened to it,”