User blog:Memai/A Bright Star, part 1

Author's Notes: ''Putting my money where my mouth is, here's a fic of none other than Roxy Smith! Hope you guys enjoy. And as always, crit and comments are welcome :)''

PART 1
 Today was officially the day Roxanne Smith’s teenage life ended.



 Before her, stood the cheerleaders, and in the middle of their prettied, primped selves, stood Mandy Wiles, the Queen Bitch to end all of Queen Bitches.



 The girls laughed and giggled, but not at Roxy’s poor, beet red face (they will soon, though, when they realize she had been staring at them in abject horror for the past half hour). They laughed at the way Mandy read out Miss Smith’s diary. An over exaggerated British accent, a barely contained giggle, “And how I do love the way Larry looks when he’s working! It’s so--” Mandy couldn’t breathe, “Guys, she thinks Peanut is cute! Teeny-weeny-Peeny Peanut is her crush, you guys!”



 “What else?” Christy egged on.



 “That Jimmy boy came up to me with flowers after I had asked him to help slip some chocolates into Larry’s locker,” Mandy snorted, then continued, “Don’t know what got into his head, clearly I have my sights set for one boy in this grody little Academy. I’m not at all thrilled at the implications,” she broke down laughing.



 “Aww but Peanut’s kinda okay,” Angie tried, though that didn’t hide her giggling either, “Not my type though.”



 “I heard he tried to get it on with Lola, and she told some of the other senior girls what he flashed her.” Christy shook her head, disappointed, as if that was all it took to convey the message, “Not even an inch. It’s that sad you guys.”



 “Oh wait, there’s more!” Mandy piped up, “Larry said ‘hi’ to me when we were in Chemistry,” she dropped the accent in favor of clarity and speed, “I didn’t think he’d notice me at all, but today, he did! And just think! Maybe one day he’ll talk to me t--”



<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “Stop reading that!” Roxy objected finally, her small voice seemed to have carried over the other girls’ laughter, and it quieted them down instantly.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “Oh my god,” Christy Martin dropped her jaw.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “Oh, Roxy! W-We didn’t see you, we didn’t mean to…”

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> Roxy was in tears. In silky, pink pajamas, and in tears, a combination that only heightened her paralyzing humiliation, “You’re reading my diary,” a statement. Pathetic, weak and quiet, but a statement that damned them all. Or it would have, had Mandy not stopped laughing.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> The head cheerleader wiped a tear away from her face, “That’s right, I am reading your diary,” she got up from the couch, with an intoxicating air of confidence that made most girls at Bullworth cower, “Good stuff. But next time? Gotta keep this,” she gestured to the diary, “Under lock and key, sweetheart.”

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “Give it back!” she jumped up, short hands reaching up for the plain, leather bound diary, “Give it back,” standing on her tip-toes did nothing to help her short stature. Mandy was taller, and prettier, and certainly more powerful in this scenario. A manicured hand easily pushed the small English girl off her, “What’re you going to do, shortstack?”

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “You… you!” Roxy could barely contain her anger, but the tears and the sorry expression she wore did nothing to intimidate the girls into her demands. In fact, the other girls sort of pitied her.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “Hey, Mandy,” Angie tried, softly, “Maybe we should… maybe we should give it back.” Bless Angie, were it not for the fact that she too, laughed.

“Yeah, Mandy, like this… this isn’t worth it. I mean, like the gossip is juicy but… like...” Christy gave Roxy a sympathetic glance, and the shame on her face was as thick as her eyeliner.

“Ugh, fine,” Mandy tossed the book unceremoniously before Roxy’s feet, who picked it up with all the meekness an embarrassed 16 year-old girl possessed.

“There wasn’t anything that good in there anyway,” she shoved Roxy with a bump on her shoulder, “God, what a bore.”

A bore. ‘Oh, she thinks Peanut is cute.’ Embarrassed. Roxy’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she struggled to calm down. She shook, shivering with rage and sadness, finally giving in and letting the tears fall freely down her face.

She sniffled, she sobbed and she whimpered, lost in her own self-conscious weeping that she didn’t notice Mrs. Peabody stand behind her.

“Miss Smith,” she addressed curtly, “It is curfew.” A raised brow as she watched the small young girl turn around. She saw the tears, she heard the crying. A sigh, “What happened, young lady?”

“M-Mandy took my diary, she stole it! A-and she started reading it t-to the other girls and…” she could barely finish her sentence. Mrs. Peabody had encountered plenty of bullying in the Girls’ Dorm, and found it unsurprising in the least that Mandy had been behind it.

Another sigh, “Come along then, Miss Smith, let’s sort this out.” Roxy was sure this was a sign of justice, that no bad deed could go unpunished. As Mrs. Peabody put a supporting hand on her shoulder, leading her down to Mandy’s room, Roxy felt her confidence grow with each step that she took.

“Amanda Wiles,” Mrs. Peabody announced as she stood before the head cheerleader’s room, “A word, please.”

Roxy caught the glare she gave to her, before returning to the sugary sweet smile when she looked up to Mrs. Peabody, “Oh no, Roxy, are you alright?”

Mrs. Peabody was not having it, “Miss Wiles, I was told you had taken Miss Smith’s diary--”

“She stole it!” Roxy interrupted, Mrs. Peabody shushed her with a sharp hiss.

“-- As I was saying, I was told you had taken Miss Smith’s diary and began reading it. Now, you know that is a gross invasion of privacy and not at all what a young lady ought to be doing.”

Mandy feigned embarrassment; head down, toes pointed inwards, hands behind her back, a little pout wouldn’t hurt.

Mrs. Peabody continued, “What shall we do about this, Miss Wiles?”

“I’m sorry, Roxy,” Mandy said, “I didn’t know what I was thinking. I won’t do it again Mrs. Peabody, promise.” Mandy offered her hand for Roxy to shake.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> Roxy knew it was an act. There was no way Mandy had been sorry for what she had done. There was no remorse in her words or her actions. She looked pleadingly to Mrs. Peabody, who offered no mercy on Roxy’s part.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “Roxanne Smith,” the old woman sighed, “Miss Wiles is offering an apology for something bad she did to you. Are you not going to forgive her?” Her words were pointed and impatient, and Roxy had no choice but the accept the flimsy apology.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> She shook Mandy’s hand, she noticed the cheerleader had a cold and tight grip. She wore a smile, but her brown eyes met Roxy’s own blue pair, and it read, in plain sight, “You are dead, Smith."

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “There now, matter settled,” the comforting hand on Roxy’s shoulder was gone, “Curfew girls, now.” And soon, Mrs. Peabody resumed monitoring the halls of the Girls’ Dormitory.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> “Didn’t know you were a snitch too, Smith,” Roxy turned around to look at Mandy. “You don’t wanna know what we do to snitches in Bullworth.” Those were her parting words to the small blonde.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> When she went to bed that night, her stomach flopped terribly. Anxiety kept her up. She tossed and turned helplessly as sleep evaded her at every turn. All she could think about were the awful words that Mandy said. The way she laughed about her crush on Lar-- Peanut. The way the other two, Christy and Angie, laughed along. Perhaps that’s what hurt the worst, she thought. Angie was her roommate and always a kind, sweet girl to her. Christy was chatty, but never malicious towards Roxy. She wondered then if they had really meant to be her friends, or if they had just pretended to be nice to get embarrassing details about her.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> And that threat? What was she to do about it? Horrible thoughts crept through her mind, replacing otherwise peaceful, non-eventful dreams. What would Mandy do? The boys could always expect a beat down, and frankly, Roxy would’ve wanted that. Preferred it, in fact. Mandy was too sneaky for her own good, and she’s heard accounts of how girls have had their social reputations killed in mere seconds.