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14 Mrs. Towers' two hours of art history succeeded in their easy task of undermining the class' interest in just two minutes. A record that she, Mrs. Heller - the math teacher - and Mr. Johnson - the geography teacher - proudly held. Her explanation was dull, didactic and uninvolving, one hundred and twenty minutes of boredom. Riley spent them drawing on his notepad, the few notes he took having to share half the page with cute doodles. While they were a tragedy for Sally, she fell asleep several times on the desk and, if not for the ringing of the bell, would have come home with a bad grade. "That was a close call," Sally told her gratefully. "She's the one who would deserve a bad grade." Riley merely nodded. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" he then asked her. "Yes, although I'm not sure," she replied. "Great, so I'll keep you company and make sure you do what you need to do," she added confidently. "Did my mother ask you to do that?" asked her as Riley stood up. Sally stood up and smiled at her. "You already know the answer." They went to the bathroom, a straight hallway with four doors on the left and two long sinks on the right with a rectangular soap dispenser dividing them. With rapt eyes, Riley saw the far door open, told her friend, "I'll be right back," and ran in there. Sally did not have time to respond that her friend had already disappeared. "Typical Riley," she thought with a smile. She walked over to one of the sinks and washed her hands convinced she had them dirty, even though she had not picked up a pencil since the beginning of the day. She turned off the faucet and heard laughter and contented squeals that became less and less muffled. He could distinguish the types of voices: high, low, shrill and hoarse. It was a group of girls, of this Sally was certain. Wiping her hands on the teal sweatshirt of Once I Was Here - a rock band she often listened to on her iPod - and the denim skirt, she turned her gaze toward the exit. As she had been expecting, the small group materialized. Five girls. Two tall, skinny ones wearing a gray sweatshirt and black pants; one of average height with a red cap on her head, a black sweatshirt very loose dark blue jeans, and two short ones (almost as tall as she was) chubby identical in every way: black sweaters, blue jeans, and white shoes. Sally recognized them all and began to fidget. She was looking at the small group of eighth-grade bullies who were targeting sixth-graders. The reason was a mystery, she only knew that they took pleasure in doing so. "Well, look who it is!" said the girl of average height to her colleagues. "Sally Halley! The rocker!" Nervously and without indulging in any smiles, Sally waved. "Hello, Katrine. Hello you too girls." Katrine brought her to herself as if she were her friend, then put her arm over her shoulder. She spoke in her bossy tone, "We were just looking for you, you know." "Really?" she asked in a confident voice. She observed that her "colleagues" did not move out of her field of vision; fortunately, they were all still there. "We need some advice," began one of the short two, then continued the other, "we're looking for someone to... steal the snack." She looked at the two doors at the back, both closed and with red markers marked OCCUPIED. Sally began to break out in a cold sweat. "Riley, please DON'T GET OUT NOW," she thought. Sally did not flinch; she maintained that air of complicity. "I don't know... And then what do you need me for?" Katrine squeezed her again. "You're the one hanging out with sixth graders every day, Salley Halley. You can see for yourself why." Salley Halley. She had actually said it, she had just given her a nickname, this disturbed her. "Um, okay." "Tell me some names come on!" incited Katrine malevolently. "A name!" Shit!, she thought. Now what? "I-I don't have one in mind," replied the 11-year-old. "Your reputation has warned us all." Katrine huffed annoyed, then widened her eyes. "Riley Bishop!" Sally's blood froze. She had said it out loud, Riley probably heard it. She must have heard it! "No!" she exclaimed angrily. "Not her!" "Why?" one of the tall girls asked suspiciously. "She's not here today," lied Sally, trying to be as convincing as possible. "Gus Daniels. He's someone I can't stand." She felt lousy after that proposal. "Gone for him!" confirmed Katrine with determination and let her go. Sally realized that it wasn't over, the boss always ended their "meetings" - even the fortuitous ones - with a question. The sooner he would ask her one, the sooner she would be back in class, geography class would start again before long. "Tell me a curiosity Salley," Katrine began as she looked at the two girls, one tall and one short, behind Sally, "is it true that Riley Bishop peed herself in the supermarket? Sally wanted to disappear instantly. They had seen us! They had seen us that day! SOME PEOPLE KNOW! SHIT! She had to lie for the third time; she had no other choice. Anger was close to taking control of her. If she showed uncertainty, Katrine and the others would realize that she had lied, and Riley... she was not to allow it. Not now, not ever. "They told me it had been one of two," Sally said, her voice somewhere between a lie and the truth. "Who told you that?" Katrine and the others looked at each other, then nodded. They had bought it. She had done it; now she could sing victory and relax her nerves. "Toby Marlowe," replied the little girl behind her. "He says he saw her with two other kids, but he doesn't know anything else." "Understood," Sally replied. The bullies gave her a benevolent look and left as they had arrived. They did not even address her a thank you, nothing. Just silence, the silence of those who had just helped evil win. Good was dead in that bathroom and she was its killer. She turned around, her heart stopped. Riley was looking at her, from her gaze he could not tell whether she was furious, disappointed or appalled. She was paralyzed about her. Sally grew tired of that moment of pure nothingness. Furious, she opened all the doors and, as she suspected, there was only them. First them and the bullies, now her and Riley. She closed the third door with all her might and ranted, "It's not fair! No one can to stop them! No one telling them they do whatever they want! And it's always us who lose out!" "Sally..." She didn't want to know how to stop. "They've been targeting me since the first day of school! They've been using me! And I'm not like that!" "Sally." "You don't understand! I-I'm the problem! Everything always starts with me!" she sighed. She wanted to give in to tears, but she held back. She was strong, and those who are strong cannot show themselves vulnerable in the eyes of others. Not to the people she loves. "Alexandra!" Sally looked at her shocked, only her mother called her by her first name and she preferred it to stay that way. She froze, it was the slap she felt she needed, and Riley had given it to her. "It is not you who is wrong," Riley began, "you are more right than they are." "I literally sent them to Gus and said you're not there..." "It's okay, you would have lied anyway," he reassured her and hugged her. (Sally did not notice her approaching.) "Thank you, Riley." "That's what friends are for, right?" Sally broke the hug and looked at her grimly; it was the same sentence she had said to her mother the day she wet her pants. "What are you doing? Are you repeating what I say?" "You were the one who made me understand, so yes, I repeat what you say!" snickered Riley and her friend smiled at her. "I have you to thank too." "I only did the right thing, you are my best friend." Riley could not help himself, she hugged her again. "The best you can have!" "Tell me," her voice became very low, "how are your panties?" Riley pondered. She replied, "I got them a little wet, but it's nothing to worry about. I consider it a yes and no." Her friend looked at her crookedly, not understanding what she meant by "yes and no." "Okay, whatever she means I'll take that as a yes," Sally suddenly said, breaking the embrace. She walked to the first open door and sighed relieved. "Now it's my turn to go, I'll be right back." "All right," Riley concluded and went to wash her hands. -
By diaperuser · Posted
@Beccathelittle what a nice update as always. Have a great weekend! Treat yourself to something nice. Maybe a restaurant you normally don’t go to all the time. -
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By Little Cub Pants · Posted
But I need the name of the pacifier. -
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