Chapter Sixteen (Part Two)

Melody should have felt guilty for tossing Tracy's muffins in the trash compactor but she didn't. Instead, she slept the slumber of someone who knew exactly what she was doing and why she did it. On some level, she knew she was probably the last person anyone would suspect of doing something like that. After all, after being the butt of Alecia and Sarah's worst taunts, she was now dishing some out herself. If they could play dirty, Melody thought, so could she.
The next morning, just before classes, Tracy showed up in Miss Hanover's office, sure enough, reporting that the muffins she'd baked for the school fair had been thrown in the trash compactor at Mariel Simwell. "Are you sure?" Miss Hanover asked in a sweet voice. "I mean, you don't think they're elsewhere in the refrigerator?"
"Nope, I looked everywhere. I know that's where they are," Tracy replied with conviction. "I have an idea who did it, but I don't want to jump to conclusions yet."
"That's a good thing. You don't want to accuse someone who's innocent."
Tracy shook her head. "Believe me, the person who did this, is not innocent at all, although she has all of you thinking she is."
"You know who did it?"
Tracy rose up, straightening her skirt. "Like I said, I have an idea who did it." Folding her arms, Tracy declared, "I know one thing. This means war."
Tracy made sure to beat everyone into class for their biology test, even though biology was not her favorite subject. She even managed to beat Melody into class, which was no small feat, sauntering right past her to her seat in the front row. Their teachers had noticed their game of one-upmanship awhile ago but made no efforts to discourage it. In fact, Ms. Jenkins had even told Miss Hanover that she thought their competition made both of them perform better, since they were clearly the top two students in the school.
Tracy immediately opened her exam booklet and then peered behind at Melody, who was intently concentrating on the questions. Melody then looked up at Tracy's curls in front of her, bouncing freely as she wrote. However, both girls managed to close their exam booklets at the same exact moment, well before the rest of the class, and then glared angrily at each other. Their rivalry had now reached a fever pitch.

High school is a minefield of changing alliances and a social hierarchy that is not to be disturbed nor broached. The 'breakup' of Melody and Sarah had torn apart the precarious balance that existed at Hanover Academy. Unofficially, they had been the school 'couple,' somewhere between friends and sweethearts, and the dissolution of their relationship was the talk of the school -- even amongst the faculty. A year ago, when she and Melody were practically joined at the hip, Sarah could not have fathomed she'd be in her current position -- in the popular crowd, a member of the school dances committee, brimming with confidence. But here she was, surrounded by the coolest girls in school. At times she wondered if all of this were a mirage.
Alecia Charvat, never a hair out of place, breezed into the school library, clearly the "queen bee" of the Academy. "Okay, it's time to get ready for prom. What do you guys suggest our theme should be?"
"Enchantment Under the Sea," began Allyson Wade, flicking back her shiny black hair.
"What about Hollywood Glamour?" suggested Andrea Seavey. "I bet we could do a red carpet thing."
"Rock and Roll Under the Stars," was Sarah's suggestion.
Tracy Glick piped her hand up. She exuded an air of confidence and respect, and when she spoke, the other students listened. "I think we should put this to a vote of the entire student body. It's our prom, anyway."
Meanwhile, Melody ambled away from where the committee was meeting, pretending not to hear them talk and whisper about her. She grabbed a book from the shelf and began to dig in.
"Hey, Sarah, isn't that that weirdo Melody, your old girlfriend?" Alecia said snottily. The other girls burst into laughter.
"We were friends," Sarah replied, "but that's over with now."
"Good, now we can go on with the business at hand." The girls resumed their spirited discussion of potential prom themes.
Sarah and her new friends seemed to be spending their spare time coming up with new ways to torture Melody. Their latest tactic was the worst of all, however. They circulated a "We Hate Melody Tinker" petition and got the entire school to sign it. It read, in simple, straight-forward language, "We the student body of Hanover Academy... hate Melody Tinker for the following reasons... she's a lesbian... she's a bitch... she's a geek... she's a weirdo... she's a nerd..." and went on to list all of Melody's perceived infractions.
The smear campaign didn't end there. The petition was also posted on the internet and Sarah and Alecia flooded Melody's email inbox with hateful messages. Eventually, word of it got to Miss Hanover, and she called the ring leaders in to her office. "I am disappointed in the pair of you," she told them as they exchanged furtive glances at each other, "and I believe this kind of behavior shall not be tolerated at Hanover Academy."
"Well, Melody was the one who started all this," Sarah said, searching for words to justify her actions.
Miss Hanover was puzzled. "I thought the two of you were friends."
"Were friends," Sarah explained, careful to emphasize the word 'were.' "She's the one who's chosen to avoid everybody. If she hadn't all of a sudden decided to close herself off, none of this would have happened."
Miss Hanover shook her head. "There's no reason for you all to have done what you've done. Now, I want the names of everyone who signed this petition, and Sarah, since you're a dorm resident, you're grounded and stripped of phone privileges until further notice." She also forced Sarah and Alecia to spend the rest of the week in after-school detention.

The opposite of caring too much isn't caring too little, but not caring at all. Melody herself, the target of the petition and smear campaign, didn't seem to be affected by any of it. Or if it did bother her, she did a reasonable job of masking it underneath a facade of apathy. Even when her email acount began flooding with the hateful messages, Melody continued to behave the way she always had.
Melody began to question in her mind why she was even at Hanover in the first place. At least, at Sim City Junior High and her first year at Sim City High, she was being teased -- but she knew where she stood in the social pecking order and was satisfied with that. Even though she preferred her own company, there were a couple of other students (both boys) who were her acquaintances, and she'd hang out with them. For reasons Melody had yet to understand, she was much more comfortable with boys than she was with other girls. So why had she chosen to go to an all-girl school? Was she a glutton for punishment, as Sarah had written in the petition? Melody came to the realization that the sooner she was away from Hanover, the better the rest of her life was going to be.
And despite the momentary rush her competition with Tracy provided, Melody did everything in her power to that end. She took advanced courses which provided college credit; she researched scholarships she could qualify for; she looked through the brochures of several nearby colleges and universities including Academie Le Tour, her dream school. Her industriousness had a purpose -- to suppress the very palpable pain caused by the dissolution of her friendship with Sarah and its stormy aftermath.

Ms. Jenkins walked into biology class and handed out their test papers. "By and large, I was disappointed in your test results. I would think at this level you would be able to label every bone in the human body. However, I was unable to use the curve because I did get a perfect score --"
Tracy sat up proudly, straightening her blazer and her skirt.
Ms. Jenkins continued. "-- from Miss Tinker."
Dejected, Tracy shook her head in disbelief. "I committed those bones to memory right before class!" she thought to herself. Meanwhile, Melody, behind her, was grinning a cheshire cat-like grin in obvious self-satisfaction.
Sarah, sitting next to Tracy, could be heard mouthing the word bitch to herself.
Ms. Jenkins began handing out the test papers. "Miss Rodiek, you're slipping. One more failing grade and you're out of advanced-placement biology."
"How did I fail?" pleaded Sarah. "I was sure I knew all of these."
"Miss Glick, A minus. Good work, but you mixed up the tarsal and metatarsal bones."
"I was sure I had that right!" protested Tracy, slamming her test booklet on her desk and folding her arms.
"Miss Tinker, A plus. Great job, you nailed every single one of the bones."
Closing the test booklet, Melody smiled secretly to herself as she looked around the room, watching Ms. Jenkins hand the other students their test booklets.

The Hanover Academy fall festival took place right before Halloween, on a crisp, perfect fall afternoon. Green-gold tinted leaves cascaded gently off the trees as the campus grounds were littered with carnival rides, arts and crafts tables, pumpkins, a cornucopia of food, and even live bands playing.

Just then Miss Hanover approached. "Melody, I need you," she said, and after some protesting Melody followed her to a table where Tracy was sitting. "I want the two of you to man the raffle table." Even though she looked at Miss Hanover with disdain, she tramped over to the table and took her seat next to Tracy.
Meanwhile, Sarah and Alecia and some of the other girls had opened up a face-painting booth, where they painted the faces of some of the neighborhood children. Tessa Ramirez, the eight-year-old daughter of furniture-store owners Checo and Lisa Ramirez, was first, and she'd made sure of it by cutting the line. Sarah shook her head as she applied glittery face paint beneath Tessa's eyes.
Miss Hanover herself went to judge the Largest Pumpkin and Pumpkin Carving contests, where aspiring pumpkin farmers from all over showed off their plump new fruit. John Burb, Jethro and his son Hank Biggs, Leod McGreggor, who came all the way from Riverblossom Hills, and several others all competed with their fruit.
Melody sat, her arms folded and with a sour expression on her face, at the raffle table. "What is it we're giving away again?"
"A 27-inch television set," Tracy corrected her, glaring back at her with the same intensity.
Melody rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she mumbled, turning her head away from Tracy.
Shaking her head, Tracy asked, "What is it with you, Melody?"
Pretending she didn't hear her, Melody looked around the grounds, everywhere but directly at Tracy.
"I don't know what's going on, but it's like you hate everyone and everything."
Still not looking at Tracy, Melody droned, "No, I don't hate everyone -- and I don't hate everything."
Later on, Melody had the other girls enraptured as she told them the scariest ghost stories she could think of, even reciting the mother of all stories -- the tale of the conception of the original Frankenstein novel. "So, Mary Wollstonecraft and her boyfriend, Percy Shelley, were on a romantic holiday at the residence of Lord Byron, and it was so cold there that they couldn't do anything they planned to do. So, after they read this collection of ghost stories, he challenged them to come up with the scariest story..."
"And then what happened?" asked Shannon, leaning forward with decided interest. Tracy, walking past, couldn't believe this was the same Melody who had given her -- and everyone else -- the cold shoulder. So she stopped and gave a listen, too.
"Mary woke up in the middle of the night and saw a vision. In her dream there was a young student kneeling beside the creature he had put together, concocted from various parts of dead people. Then the creature reached out its arms to the student, its creator..."
Suddenly Melody was interrupted by the shouts of Alecia, Sarah, and Allyson, who were standing off to the side. "Drop dead lesbo!" shouted Alecia, with Sarah and Allyson looking on and cheering.
The other girls turned around, but Melody, embarrassed, covered her head and ran away from the scene.
"What did she do that for?" Shannon wondered, turning towards Mallory. "Mel's story was just getting good."

Miss Hanover called Tracy and Melody into her office the Monday after the festival. Her two top students assembled in the headmistress' office in the back of the school on the first floor. When they showed up, one could cut the atmosphere with a knife, it was so thick. "I'd like the two of you to organize the annual Thanksgiving dinner," Miss Hanover announced, looking into both of their eyes.
Tracy flashed a saccharine grin, showing off all her pearly whites. She had all the preternatural savvy of a budding politician. Looking right at Melody, she replied, "Sure, Miss Hanover, no sweat."
But Melody cringed. "Me?" she asked, pointing at herself.
Miss Hanover released a gentle smile. "Yes, Melody," she said sweetly. "I know you're smart. And I'm sure you have some ideas that you haven't been able to communicate. That painting that won the district art contest proved it. You've got so much untapped potential."
Melody alternated dismissive glares between Miss Hanover and Tracy. One got the sense that she was relishing the role she'd taken on, of the impenetrable ice princess. But, in her stubborn defiance she realized that working with Tracy could be a good thing. For one thing, it would help her take her mind off what Sarah and Alecia and the popular girls were doing. How long, though, would their uneasy truce last?
Melody was in her bedroom working with her robot crafting machine when she heard a knock on her door. "Come in," she shouted, "it's open."
The doorknob turned, and so did Melody, only to see Tracy standing before her. "What do you want?" she asked tersely.
Tracy stood for a few minutes, looking around Melody's bedroom. She examined the alien posters and the paintings of the solar system that hung on her wall. "Did you paint these?" she asked.
Melody shrugged. "Yeah -- why?"
Even though Tracy didn't have the least bit of interest in the subject matter, she had to admit she was impressed. Then her eyes fell to the toy robot Melody was making on the robot crafter. "What's this? What are you doing?"
"You've never seen a girl make robots before?" asked Melody, glaring at her.
"Actually, no," replied Tracy matter-of-factly as she examined Melody's diagrams. "It looks -- interesting."
Melody's eyes began to light up. "I picked it up over the summer. It was just a matter of learning just how the wires connect to the reactors which power them, then encasing them in just the right metal alloy."
Tracy nodded, letting out a sheepish chuckle. "Well, I'll leave you to it, I guess. But I was going to ask about the Thanksgiving dinner and the food drive for the needy."
Melody turned around again. "Food drive?"
"Yeah, I'm organizing a food drive to go along with the Thanksgiving dinner. The student council is going to prepare individual meals and go door-to-door delivering them."
Melody cringed at the idea of knocking on strangers' doors with plates of food. "Um, do you have a menu planned?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, the usual -- turkey with dressing, peas, candied yams, and a dessert --" Tracy's voice trailed off. "Which reminds me, I know you threw away my first batch of muffins that I baked for the fair."
Melody shook her head. "How can you figure it was me?"
Tracy tossed her blond curls with disdain. "Oh, come on, Melody. Don't give me that innocent look. You have had it in for me since the moment we met."
"Why on earth would I have anything in for you?"
"Like it isn't obvious, Melody Tinker?" Tracy asked, twirling around. "Let's face it. I've got everything you want."
Melody glared at her. "You've got nothing I want, Tracy."
"Oh really? Is that why you turned in that extra credit report for advanced-placement history, on the exact same topic that I did?"
"The one on the Bolshevik revolution?"
Tracy shook her head and couldn't help but laugh. "Melody, Melody, Melody. You are so transparent."
"If anyone's transparent, Tracy, it's you." Melody walked away. "You've got everybody wrapped around your little finger, don't you, Tracy?"
"Not everybody." Tracy gave Melody a sly wink. "The one person I want to pay attention to me doesn't even care that I exist. She doesn't care that anyone exists."
Melody, oblivious to anything Tracy said, continued her angry rant. "Even Miss Hanover raves about how perfect you are. I see right through you, Tracy."
"And I through you, Melody. Let's face it, you and I are just alike."
Melody couldn't see how she had any resemblance to Tracy, someone she perceived as annoying and snotty.
But Tracy continued with her disturbingly perky tone. "We both want to succeed. We'd make a great team, and you know it."
Melody shook her head. "A team? Us?"
Tracy put her arm around Melody's shoulder. "And Miss Hanover knows it, too, that's why she put us together to organize the Thanksgiving dinner." Tracy turned around to walk away, leaving Melody with lots of things to ponder as she continued making her robots. Could it be, that if she couldn't beat Tracy, she'd have to join her?

Melody hated her situation, but she was stuck. She really didn't have any other choice. She knew in her mind that having a friend for the sake of having a friend was the wrong approach to friendship. She realized that sooner or later she was going to have to apologize for the muffin incident, even though it killed her and was just as good as admitting guilt. She and Tracy were eating lunch together nearly every day now, and Tracy was making it a point to sit at the same table as Melody, even when Melody tried to avoid her. "Why do you do this?" snapped Melody.
"Simple. We're supposed to be working together."
"Exactly my point," Melody said. "Our relationship is supposed to be professional only."
"Who says we can't be friends too?" Tracy peered straight through Melody's glasses right through to her brown eyes. "What is with you, Melody? You act like you don't want to be around people."
Just then Sarah, Alecia, Allyson, Jill, and Andrea breezed past, their faces made up to the nines and their skirts hiked up as far as the school dress code would allow. "Oooh, lesbo alert," Alecia whispered to Sarah.
"And who's she with? Of course, Little Miss Perfect," replied Sarah snottily.
Melody pretended she didn't hear Sarah, instead engrossing herself in a political conversation with Tracy. "So, did you catch the Mayor's speech on Sim News Network last night?" Tracy asked.
This question forced a smile out of Melody. "So I'm not the only one who keeps her television tuned to SNN."
Tracy giggled. "Nope. He made some interesting points about the new Congress's makeup, but what everybody's talking about is his admission of an affair with some actress."
As Melody shook her head, Sarah and Alecia came over. "If it isn't the brainiac table," teased Alecia.
"Shut up, Alecia," Tracy shouted, flicking her blond curls.
"If you don't stop playing with me," Alecia threatened, "then I'll make you do my homework."
Tracy had an interesting reaction. She smiled. "Good. I like doing homework -- my own."
"And why are you here with the dyke anyway?" asked Sarah.
Melody's blood began to rise, but she somehow kept it in, remaining calm. But Tracy was incensed. "You're calling someone a dyke?" Tracy asked, directing her words at Sarah.
"Yeah, you're sitting with one."
Alecia added, "careful or she'll make you her next one."
"Her next what?" snapped Tracy.
"Her next girlfriend."
Tracy shook her head. "I only see one dyke here, and it's not Melody."
"Oooh, touchy!" shouted Alecia.
"You," declared Sarah, "you're calling me a dyke, Tracy? If you weren't such a goody-goody I'd --"
"You'd what?"
Finally Melody spoke. "How can you do this to me, Sarah?" she asked in a low, halting voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Then she looked, almost gratefully, at Tracy.
"I'm not doing anything that you didn't do first," Sarah replied.
Melody hesitated before saying exactly what she felt, which was unusual for her. "Well, I -- I didn't circulate a petition that said 'I Hate Sarah Rodiek,' now, did I?"
Then, suddenly, Melody slowly rose up from the chair and slapped Sarah in the face. "Ow!" yelped Sarah. "Your nerve!"
"The nerve of you to stand up here and say these things!" shouted Melody. "You have been a total bitch to me since last summer. Why, Sarah?"
Tracy let out a silent fist pump in approval.
"Because you're in denial, Mel. You're always in denial."
"I'm denying what, Sarah?"
"You denied that you loved me."
"And this is how you act? By becoming a Benedict Arnold?"
"Look where it's gotten me. I'm popular now."
"Is that all you wanted, Sarah? To be popular? If the price of popularity is that you forget who you are, then I never want to be popular." Melody and Tracy finished their meals and, picking up their lunch trays, walked away together.