Golden Girl

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Authors: Mari Mancusi
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“But you, Montgomery, have more important things to do. Ava’s in the bathroom with a wardrobe malfunction, and you’re the only one who knows how to sew.”
    â€œExcuse me,” I interrupted, rising to my feet, anger flaring. I was so close to getting my old friend back—I just knew it. “Becca and I were in the middle of talking. Ava will have to wait.”
    Olivia rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose we better let Becca decide that, don’t you think?” She released her arm. “Well, Becca, my dear?”
    I stole a glance at my friend. Please pick me, please pick me, please pick me . I swear at that moment I would have given up Olympic gold forever just to have my best friend tell Olivia to get lost. That she had her true friend back now and didn’t need those brainless Boarder Barbies.
    Becca looked at me, then at Olivia, her face a war of emotions. I gnawed on my lower lip, beginning to get nervous. What was going on with her? How could she even consider choosing Olivia over me?
    â€œBecca, what’s wrong?” I found myself asking, my eyes welling up with tears. I knew I shouldn’t be acting this vulnerable in front of Olivia—it would only give her more ammunition. But I couldn’t help it. “What’s going on with you? Did I do something? Whatever it was, tell me and I’ll make it up to you!” My mind raced for reasons that she could be mad at me, but I kept coming up blank.
    Becca squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, her face now a mask of resignation. “Sorry, Lexi,” she mumbled. “I need to help Ava.” And with that, she shuffled off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving me alone with Olivia, who was now beaming wider than the Cheshire cat.
    It was the last straw. My body took over, ignoring my mind’s plea to take the higher road. Instead I grabbed Becca’s discarded bowl and shoved it into Olivia’s face. She screamed as the grimy whipped cream and chocolate syrup dripped down her cheeks. As she tried to wipe it away, she only managed to get chocolate on her pristine white coat and gain the attention of the other students. Now everyone was staring at her in the way I’d first imagined them staring at me.
    â€œYou are so dead,” she snarled in her most venomous of tones. “I will get you, Lexi Miller, if it’s the last thing I do.”
    â€œPlease. What could you possibly do to me,” I shot back, “that you haven’t already done?”
    And with that, I turned and fled the party.

CHAPTER NINE
    I f life were a movie, the cameras would be following me as I abandoned the rec center, stepping out onto the snow-dusted grounds on my way back to the dorm. Maybe I’d be stomping angrily; maybe I’d be shedding a few dramatic tears. Either way, the sound track would be gloomy and dark and hopeless. In the credits it’d be listed as “Requiem for a Friend” or something equally as depressing.
    Then, out of nowhere, the cameras would cut away, revealing Becca bursting out of the building, chasing me down, and grabbing me by the shoulders to whirl me around, her face full of apology and regret. As the music soared, we’d cry and laugh and hug as she’d beg me to forgive her. Then we’d sling arms around each other’s shoulders and walk off into the snowflakes, a silver-screen-worthy rebeginning of a beautiful friendship.
    But my life was not a movie. Becca remained inside with her new friends. And as I walked through the snow-carpeted campus shuffling my boots to make trails in the powder, I remained utterly alone. The wind had started to pick up, and I pulled my parka closer around me, the cold mingling with my despair.
    What was going on with Becca? Why was she acting so weird? And how did Olivia fit into all this? Why was Becca hanging around her, obeying her like a pathetic little puppy dog? The Becca I knew would never, ever, in a million

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