Veronica’s Vengeance (sample)
“You know what my problem is, it’s my face,” Ronnie said. “I just have a bitchy face. When you see the mean girls on TV I look like them.” “Uh-huh,” said Yvette, stirring her fruit cup. “You’re not listening to me,” Ronnie whined. “It’s not my fault. I’m a nice, cool person. Everybody knows that.” Yvette nodded sagely. The fact that Ronnie was the more attractive of the pair by astronomical magnitudes was not admissible evidence. There was no appropriate moment to mention Ronnie’s porcelain skin, textbook doe eyes and figure of proportions used in health classes nationwide to illustrate how teenage girls could starve themselves to death. As an honors student, Yvette was smart enough to grasp that her current closest friend wanted sympathetic ears, not debate. They had been best friends forever for less than a month. “They’re just jealous of you, Ronnie,” said Yvette, who was hoping that with hard work and a few lucky breaks she might get promoted to the Ronnie tier one day. Ronnie only went ‘fffffft’. Yvette brushed her tangled hair out of her face and licked her spoon. “Ugh, how can you eat in front of me,” Ronnie moaned, and put her head down on the table. “All those sugars and preservatives, I hate you. God, you know I’m on a diet here.” “I hadn’t heard.” Yvette remained deadpan and looked around the empty cafeteria. “We should probably get going to class at some point.” “Yeah, I guess,” Ronnie said, and only when she got up did Yvette rise as well. “Man, it’s weird being back.” Yvette nodded again and ate/drank her fruit cup right out of the bowl once her best friend’s back was turned.
The transition back to school that year had been hard on Veronica Pearson. Certain things simply used to be easier. As early as ninth grade she’d been heiress so apparent it hurt. When the class sat through freshman assemblies, and Mrs. Royce from the guidance office showed stupid presentations about bullies and ‘queen bees’ and stuff only dorks got scared about, it was clear that the administration meant Veronica, even if they couldn’t use the name. (‘Ronnie’ was for friends and admirers—teachers, despite rumors about her and Mr. Crocker, were neutral. As for enemies, Ronnie had no enemies, only inferiors.) She’d finished freshman year with distinction. She was ruthless. She was cruel. She’d turned friends against each other and made boys do awful things. Her sophomore year had gone even better. She dominated Florentine High and the whole school knew it. The whole town knew it. Everyone in the Show-Me State knew it. Then, her sole, shocking blunder: failing to keep her dumb parents in line. What her family had given her in Nordic good looks and designer teen couture was not matched in commitment to her reign at Florentine, and when her father got transferred to Chicago, she spent what amounted to a junior year abroad, or, at least, by the lake. It was here that the fates intervened once again.
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