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Authors: Michael Harmon

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BOOK: Brutal
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“Go away revolutionary upstart.” She looked at me. “You do know what you're getting yourself into with this boy right?”

I nodded, smiling as I took my pass. “I've been warned.”

Theo and I walked to third hour current affairs, and when we came in, Mr. Halvorson, chief executive president and dictator of the Equality Club, gave us a smirk when we handed him our passes. “Take your seats.”

We did, and then listened to a thirty-minute monologue on the important economic relationships we had with several Middle Eastern countries, with Mr. Halvorson blithely leaving out the fact that it was still okay in most places to stone women to death for being women. When I brought up the fact that women had less standing than lizards in some of our “partner” cultures, he dutifully told the class that it's not our place to judge, it's our place to respect diversity.

He didn't like it when I told him political correctness and oil prices mixed well and that female genital mutilation had always been something I'd like to explore.

After class, Theo and I parted ways, and I headed for the gym. PE. Great. Another Poe defeat waiting to greet me with my shitty PE shirt. This day couldn't get any worse. In the locker room, I opened my bag and saw my choir gown, still in the plastic wrapper, stuffed at the bottom. I wouldn't be needing that anymore, I thought, ditching my boots and putting my sweats on. Then I stopped.

A grin split my face as I stared at my pack. Fine. They wanted to play games, I'd play the game. Mrs. Baird and Vice Principal Avery could stuff it where the sun didn't shine. I took the gown from the wrapper, unfolded it, looked at the Benders High emblem on it, then put it on.

Several girls walked by, staring at me standing in the gym locker room wearing a choir gown, and I couldn't care less. I couldn't care less about anybody in this stinking place. I stowed my stuff in my locker and walked into the gym. Just as I entered, Coach Policheck blew her whistle for us to line up. Everybody stared at me, and laughter rose. I took my place in line.

Coach Policheck looked at me, shook her head, then trudged over. “One chance, Poe. Change it or go to the office immediately.”

I stood silent.

She pointed to the doors. “Go.”

I left.

I wore my gown to the office. Ms. Appleway smiled. “Twice in one day, Poe. Mr. Avery is waiting.”

I walked into his office, and he sat behind his desk, the huge girth of his belly touching the edge of the wood surface. He glanced at me, then down at my file, then motioned for me to take a seat. I did. He looked up, sighed, then deflated, leaning his elbows on the desk. “Well, Ms. Holly, I don't know what to do with you.”

I stared at him, sick of everything. “Maybe you should find somebody that does.”

He looked at my choir gown. “You know this is ridiculous.”

“No, it's not.”

His face hardened. “You cannot wear your choir gown to PE. We talked about this last week.”

“You told me that as long as you had an official Benders High uniform, you had a choice. It's a uniform with the insignia. I'm following your rules.”

“You
cannot
wear it.” With that, he picked up his phone and punched an extension. “Yes, David. Would you please come to my office? Your daughter is here. Yes, she is. Again.”

Dad came in a moment later, looked at me, then took a seat. I turned to Mr. Avery “Cool, the lamp is here.”

Confusion clouded Mr. Avery's face, but he let it pass. “David, Poe has decided to construe my words the other day as it being okay to wear her choir gown to PE.”

Dad looked at me, then at Mr. Avery, taking a moment. “Construe?”

“Yes. She's not being reasonable about this, and I can't stand for making a scene simply because she doesn't like the rules.”

Dad shook his head. “I don't agree.”

Mr. Avery blinked. “I'm sorry?”

He glanced at me and a flicker of a smile, nervous and sad at the same time, came over his face. “You stipulated the rules the other day to Poe.”

He scoffed. “David, come on. We can't have disorder like this. She's making a mockery of this school. She knows exactly what I was talking about last week. Sports uniforms. Not choir uniforms. She's causing trouble for the sake of trouble.”

Dad coughed and took on a serious tone. “Poe is proving a point, and I agree with it. The policy is inherently unfair
to the students who do not or cannot play sports,” he said, meeting Mr. Avery's stare with a shrug. “It gives some students a choice where other students have none, Steve, and it serves no practical purpose other than to create exactly what we supposedly stand against at this school. Favoritism and class-based discrimination. If choice is to be given, it should be given to the whole, not the part.”

Mr. Avery flipped his pen on the desk, frustrated. “What would you have me do, then? Change the policy? We've always done it that way and it's never been a problem. It's trivial.”

I rolled my eyes. “The only reason it's trivial is that you don't have to do it.”

Mr. Avery stared at me. “Okay, if you were in my position, what would you do? Have everybody wear the same uniform, right?”

“Get rid of the whole uniform rule in the first place.” I smirked. “Everybody knows who the special people are anyway, and I'm sure you can think of other ways to put us losers down.”

He shook his head. “First of all, Poe, you are not a loser, and there are no ‘special people’ at this school. We're all equal here.”

I laughed. “The choir and the football team are the prancing fairies of this rat hole.”

He sat back again, at his wits’ end. “You
are
part of the choir! What more do you want?”

I looked at him, the door wide open for Poe the Destructor to come barging through. “Yeah, the choir. You'd know all about that, huh, Mr. Avery?”

Dad furrowed his brow. “What?”

I smiled at Mr. Avery. “Nothing, Dad. I'm sure Mr. Avery has no idea that after Anna Conrad's parents complained, I was booted from the lead soloist's spot. I don't quite ‘fit’ into it as well as Anna. Right, Mr. Avery?”

He blustered, and I knew he knew. How much he had to do with it was another subject, though. A dim lightbulb lit above his head. “I see this situation has to do with more than just PE.”

“They're pretty much the same.”

Dad frowned, interrupting. “What happened in choir?”

“I won the lead solo spot, but Benders High School decided I shouldn't have it.”

Mr. Avery shook his head. “No, no. That's not what happened. You missed tryouts, and the rule says you have to try out. When that was brought to Mrs. Baird's attention, she had to comply. There was no favoritism.”

I stared at him like he was a dead fish. “Then why am I in the Elite Choir at all? You just said you have to try out. Even for a regular spot, right? Well, according to you, I shouldn't be in the choir at all.”

“Well…”

“Oh, I get it. Sometimes the rules apply and sometimes they don't. It just depends on who, right? Just like PE?”

“No, that's not it.”

I laughed, triumphant. “Yes, it is.”

Mr. Avery looked at my dad. “She was given a spot in the Elite Choir without a tryout because Mrs. Baird felt responsible for misleading Poe about being a soloist. To give her a chance.”

“I don't need a chance! I did try out and I'm better than Anna!”

Dad spoke up. “I think you should answer my daughter's question, Steve. Then I think you should furnish a written copy of the rules for me.” Mr. Avery blinked at my dad, but he went on, “I'm here as a father, Steve, not as an employee of this school. I'm sure you understand that.”

Mr. Avery took a moment, then nodded. “Very well. There are no written rules about tryouts, David, just as there are no written rules about the allowance of football jerseys in PE.”

Dad nodded. “Then why was Poe ousted?”

Mr. Avery cleared his throat, glancing at me before continuing. “Can we have a moment, David? I…”

Dad looked at me. “I think if you've something to say, you should say it, Steve.”

He nodded. “I'm afraid there were complaints when it was found out that Anna would be bumped, and the rules were questioned.”

I smirked. “So you listen to some complaints but not others? Is that in the invisible rule book, too?”

He glowered at me, so caught in his own words he couldn't get out. He took a sip of coffee, composing himself. “Poe, I think you should go back to class. I'm going to excuse today, just this one time, but you'll have to wear your uniform to PE from now on. And I expect your tone and attitude to improve, too. There's no need for nastiness. We can be civil.”

“No.”

Mr. Avery brought himself to bear, leaning forward over the desk. He looked toward my dad. “Listen, if we hand out special treatment to everybody who doesn't want to follow
the rules, it would be chaos. Sometimes we have to sacrifice to maintain stability.”

I laughed, and I laughed loud. “So I'm sacrificed to maintain stability. That's screwed in the head.”

Dad glowered. “Poe …”

“No, I'm not getting this.” I looked at Mr. Avery “So basically you want to make sure everybody knows their place in this school, right? There's this group and that group and the other group, and the ‘rules’ you make up as you go along let us all know where we should be, right? At least you could admit it.”

Mr. Avery sniffed. “You're twisting things around here. There's nothing wrong with individuality and distinction when you've earned it, Poe. That's what you're not understanding about the jerseys. They earned it on merit.”

I crossed my arms. “I earned my choir uniform on merit.”

He smirked. “But choir has nothing to do with playing Ping-Pong or tennis in PE class, Poe, it has to do with singing.”

I shrugged, pondering the ceiling for a moment. “What does football have to do with playing volleyball in PE class?”

Mr. Avery blinked. “Listen, I know what you're saying, and I know what you're trying to do, but this is a waste of time. I see you as equal to anybody here.”

I exploded. “Don't sit there and tell me we're all the same, because we're not! And YOU make it that way!” I sat back. “I didn't ask for any of this! You screwed me, and now I'm screwing you.”

Mr. Avery almost choked he was so frustrated. “You didn't try out, Poe. You didn't follow the rules.”

“Mrs. Baird TOLD me it was a tryout! You just said there were no rules! God, you're just caving in because people are breathing down your neck.”

He ran his hands over his chubby cheeks, groaning. “I wasn't the one with anybody breathing down my neck, Poe.” He turned to my dad. “I think the best thing to do is talk with Principal Stephens. Maybe even Superintendent Marny I don't have the power to change this even if I wanted to, David.”

Almost on the verge of tears, I clenched my teeth. “You see it, don't you, Mr. Avery? Don't you?”

He sighed. “Poe, I do see it, but this is a mess. I have a job to do, and I'm answerable to the whole school. The whole community. Not just you.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, his eyes drooping. “Sometimes that's just the way the world is, Poe, and I'm sorry.”

“Fine, then. I quit anyway. I never even wanted this in the first place. I never even wanted to be here.”

Dad cut in. “Poe, please.”

“No, Dad, don't. I'm not doing it. I tried to do it your way, and they made it clear. I quit.” I picked up my bag.

He started to say something, but I walked out, slamming the door on my way. Ms. Appleway, with a pensive smile that said she'd heard me yelling, nodded as I passed. “Don't quit, girl.”

Then I was gone.

Chapter Sixteen

Of all the people in the world I didn't want to see, Velveeta was
one of them. I walked home, done with Benders High, done with Benders Hollow, and done with the world. Velveeta knelt on all fours in the garden, weeding the dandelions popping up here and there. His lip pooched with a wad of tobacco as he turned his head and stared at me. “Hey, Poe. You ain't in school today?”

I rolled my eyes. “I'm standing here, aren't I?”

“You sure are. I ain't in school, either.”

“I guess you being here is the giveaway.”

He smiled. “Had a doctor's appointment and Aunt Vicky said I could stay home the rest of the day if I weeded.” He pointed. “Chores.”

“What's wrong?”

“Got a boil on my back. Lanced the sucker.” He stood, wiping his hands on his thighs and making a stabbing gesture. White knobby knees stained green poked out under his shorts. “Wanna see?”

“No.”

He smiled. “Your loss. Like a volcano erupting. Mount
Vesuvial.” He grimaced, shading his eyes from the sun. “What're you doing out?”

“I'm moving back home.”

“Why?”

“I don't fit in here. And it sucks.”

“That's the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

I stared at him. “Why?”

He laughed, then spit a stream of brown loogey on the grass. “You don't fit in because you don't
want
to fit in, girl.”

“So?”

“So, it could be different.”

“How's that?”

“You could not fit in because you
can't
fit in.” He smiled, a tendril of tobacco stuck to his front tooth.

“It's all the same anyway, Velveeta.”

“No, it ain't. You could fit in, but you don't want to. I can't fit in because some things just aren't meant to be.”

“You could fit in just like anybody else.”

He made a dopey face, like I was the dope. “You get yourself a haircut, some normal clothes, and wear some pretty makeup and you could be anyone you wanted. Me? You put me in a thousand-dollar suit and you still got a dork named Velveeta. Ain't nothing changes that.”

I clenched my teeth. “I didn't come over here to listen to this. Especially today. I don't need a guilt trip about how good I have it.”

He frowned, then smiled. “Well, I don't want you to go.”

“Why?”

“Because you're the only friend I got here, that's why. And besides, I didn't figure you for a faker.”

“I'm not a faker.”

“Are too, going home like a whipped puppy with his tail ‘tween her legs.”

“Don't tell me you wouldn't leave if you could.”

BOOK: Brutal
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