Cutler 01 - Dawn

plenty of time," Melissa Lee said. They all stared at me.
    "Oh, all right," I said, actually surprised at their desire to include me. "I guess I should brush my hair."
    The bathroom was crowded. Girls were making last-minute adjustments on their hair and freshening lipstick. Everyone was talking excitedly. There was an electricity in the air. I went to a mirror to check myself and suddenly realized all of Clara Sue's friends were around me.
    "I love your hair tonight," Linda told me.
    "Yes, I never saw it looking so radiant," Clara Sue said. The others nodded, these silly smiles on their faces.
    Why were they all being so nice to me? I wondered. Did they always follow Clara Sue's lead like a bunch of sheep? Was it that Philip wanted me to be his girlfriend? Maybe he told Clara Sue once and for all to be nice to me.
    "Do you smell something, girls?" Clara Sue suddenly asked. Everyone started sniffing. "Someone needs some perfume."
    "What's that supposed to mean, Clara Sue?" I said, realizing all this friendliness was phony.
    "Nothing. We're just thinking of you. Right, girls?" she said.
    "Yeah," they replied in chorus, and on that cue everyone brought out a can of stink-bomb spray from behind her back and aimed it at me. A cloud of horrible putrescence hit me. I screamed and quickly covered my face and hair. The girls laughed and kept spraying over my uniform. They were in hysterics, some holding their stomachs, they were laughing so hard. Only Louise looked pained. She stepped back as if I might explode like a bomb.
    "What's the matter?" Clara Sue asked. "Don't you like expensive perfume, or are you so used to cheap stuff you can't stand it?"
    That made everyone laugh harder.
    "What is this?" I cried. "How can I get it off?" Every time I spoke, it made the crowd of horrid girls laugh more. I rushed forward to the sink and started to wet a paper towel. Then I began wiping my sweater frantically.
    "Who's the poor idiot who has to stand and sit beside her tonight?" Linda asked the dreadful audience. Someone screamed.
    "That's not fair. Why should I be the one to suffer?" The laughter continued.
    "It's getting late," Clara Sue announced. "We'll meet you on the stage, Dawn," she called as they all started out, leaving me to my horrible fate at the sink. I scrubbed at my sweater and skirt so hard the paper towel tore into shreds, but mere water had no effect.
    Becoming more frantic, I took off the pearls carefully and then pulled my sweater off and shook it out. I didn't know what to do. Finally I sat down on the floor and cried. Where would I get another school uniform now? How could I go on stage smelling like this? I would have to stay in the bathroom and then go home.
    I cried until I had no more tears and my head and throat ached. I felt as if a heavy blanket of defeat had been thrown over me. It weighed far too much for me to simply throw it off. My shoulders shook with my sobs. Poor Daddy and Jimmy. They were probably already out there in their seats anxious for me. Poor Momma lying in her hospital room and watching the clock, thinking soon I would be out on that stage.
    I looked up when someone came in, and I saw it was Louise. She gazed at me quickly and then looked down at the floor.
    "I'm sorry," she said. "They made me do it, too. They said if I didn't, they would make up stories about me, just like they made them up about you."
    I nodded.
    "I should have expected something like this, but I was too excited to see through their false smiles," I said, standing up.
    "Would you do me a favor? Would you go back to the music suite and get my coat for me? I can't put this back on," I said, indicating my sweater. "The odor is too strong."
    "What are you going to do?"
    "What can I do? I'll go home."
    "Oh, no, you can't. You just can't," she said, nearly in tears herself.
    "Please, get me my coat, Louise."
    She nodded and left, her head down. Poor Louise, I thought. She wanted to be different—she wanted to be nice—but the girls wouldn't let her, and she wasn't strong enough to stand against them.
    Oh, why were girls like Clara Sue so cruel? They had so much—all the fancy clothes they wanted; they could get their hair done, their nails done, even their toenails! Their parents took them on wonderful trips, and they lived in big houses with enormous rooms of their own with big soft beds and floors of plush carpet. They never went to sleep in cold rooms, and they always had anything and everything they wanted to eat.