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Darlene stands with her hands on her hips. "Well, that was until he called and said all the pledges in the fraternity had to sleep at the frat house for some crazy initiation thing long as Tyler's penis is intact when it's all over, I'm happy." At the mention of "penis," I search for my keys in my purse. When Darlene gets to talking about joysticks and sex, stand back because she never stops. And since I'm not one to share my sexual experiences (or lack thereof), I'm out of here. A perfect time to escape. As I dangle my keys on my fingers, Sierra tells me she'll get a ride from Doug, so I'm alone during the drive home. I like being alone. Nobody to put on an act for. I can even blast the music if I want.

Continued...

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As I'm about rattle off the list of rumors outlining Alex's drug use and police arrests, Isabel stands. "Listen, Brittany," she says. "You and me, we'll never be friends. But I have to tell you,no matter how much of a jerk Alex was to you today, he's not as bad as the rumors. He's even not as bad as he'd like to think he is." Before I can ask another question, Isabel is back in formation. An hour and a half later, when we're all exhausted and crabby and even I've had enough, we're dismissed from practice. I make a point of walking over to a sweating Isabel and telling her what a good job she did today on the routine. "Really?" she asks, looking surprised. "You're a fast learner," I tell her. It's true. For a girl who never tried out for poms the first three years of high school, she's caught on to the routine really fast. "That's why we put you on the front line." While Isabel's mouth is still open in s hock, I wonder if she believes the rumors she's heard about me. No, we'll never be friends. But I can tell we'll never be enemies, either. After practice I walk to my car with Sierra, who's busy texting her boyfriend, Doug, on her cell. A piece of paper is tucked under one of my windshield wipers. I pull it off. It's Alex's blue detention slip. Crumpling it up, I shove it into my book bag. "What was that?" Sierra asks. "Nothing," I say, hoping she gets the hint that I don't want to talk about it. "Guys, wait up!" Darlene yells, running up to us. "I saw Colin on the football field. He said to wait for him." I look at my watch. It's almost six and I want to get home to help Baghda make my sister's dinner. "I can't." "Doug texted me back," Sierra says, "He's invited us for pizza at his house." "I can come," Darlene says. "I've been so bored now that Tyler is back at Purdue and I probably won't see him for weeks." Sierra is still texting away. "I thought you were gonna visit him next weekend."

Kennedith9, cbella, kunbeex, AryEmber, Jadedgrace98, Austinsamekpo, MhizDherbee, etc.

---

The truth is I didn't report him. I got called into Dr. Aguirre's office because someone who'd seen the parking
incident and witnesses our confrontation on the steps this morning reported it. Which was ridiculous because
nothing happened.
Aguirre didn't believe me. He thought I was too scared to tell him the truth. I wasn't scared then. But I am now.
Carmen Sanchez can kick my butt any day of the week. She probably practices with weapons, and the only
weapon I know how to use is, well, my pom-poms. Call me crazy but somehow I doubt my poms will scare
off a girl like Carmen. Maybe in a word war I would make a good showing, but definitely not in a fistfight. Guys fight because of so primal, innate gene that makes them prove themselves physically. Maybe Carmen wants to prove something to me, but there is seriously no need. I'm no threat, but how do I let
her know that? It's not like I'm going to go up to her and say, "Hey, Carmen, I'm not going to make a move on
your boyfriend and I never reported him to Dr. Aguirre. "Or maybe I should . . . Most people think nothing bothers me. I'm not going to let them know something does. I've worked too long and hard to keep up this facade and I'm not about to lose it all because some gang member and his girlfriend are testing me.
"I'm not worrying about it, I tell Sierra.
My best friend shakes her head. "I know you, Brit. You're stressing," she whispers Now that statment worries me more than the idea of Carmen looking for me. Because I try really hard to
keep everyone at a distance . . . not really knowing what it's truly like to be me or what it's like to live at my
house. But I've let Sierra know more about me than everyone else. I wonder if I should back off from our friendship sometimes, to make sure she's kept at arm's length. Logically, I know I'm paranoid. Sierra is a true friends; she was even there when I cried last year about my mom's nervous breakdown but never revealed the reason. She let me cry it out, even when I refused to give
her details. I don't want to end up like my mom. That's my biggest fear in life.
Ms. Small has us get in formation, then plays the custom music made for our squad by the music department
while I count off. It's a mixture of hip-hop and rap music, specially mixed for our routine. We've titled our routine "Big, Bad Bulldogs" because our team Mascot is the bulldog. My body hums to the beat. That's what I
love about being part of the squad. It's the music that pulls me in and make me forget about my problems at
home. Music is my drug, the one thing that makes me numb.
"Ms. Small, can we try starting in the broken T position instead of the T position like we previously
practiced?" I say. "Then go into the low V and high V combos with Morgan, Isabel, and Caitlin moving to the front. I think it'll look cleaner."
Ms. Small smiles, obviously pleased with my suggestion. "Good idea, Brittany. Let's try it. We'll start in the
broken T position, elbows bent. During the transition I want Morgan, Isabel, and Caitlin in the front row.
Remember to keep your shoulders down. Sierra, please make your wrists and extension of your arms instead of bending them."
"Yes, ma'am," Sierra says from behind Me.
Ms. Small plays the music again. The beat, the lyrics, the instruments . . . they all seep into my veins and lift
me up no matter how low I feel. As I dance in sync with the other girls, I forget about Carmen and Alex and
my mom and everything else. The song is over too quickly. I still want to move to the beat and the lyrics when Ms. Small turns off her CD
player. The second time around is better, but our formation needs work and some of the new girls are having
a hard time with the steps.
"Brittany, you teach the basic moves to the new girls and then we'll try it as a group again. Darlene, you lead
the rest of the squad in reviewing the steps," Ms. Small instructs she hands me the CD player.
Isabel is in my group. She kneels down to take a drink from her water bottle. "Don't worry about Carmen,"
she says. "Most of the time her bark is worse than her bite."
"Thanks," I say. Isabel looks tough, with her red Latino Blood bandanna, the eyebrow rings, and hands
always folded on her chest when she's not doing the routines. But she has kind eyes. And smiles a lot. Her
smile softens her harsh appearance, although if she put a pink bow in her hair instead of a red Latino Blood
bandanna I bet she'd actually look girly. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" I ask.
She nods.
"And you know Alex Fuentes"
She nods again.
"Are the rumors about him true?" I ask carefully, not knowing how she's going to react to my prying. If I'm
not careful, I'll have a long list of people who are out to get me.
Isabel's long brown hair moves as she talks. "Depends on which ones you're referring to."

Kennedith9, this is for you

---

CHAPTER 7 Brittany

After school I'm at my locker when my friends Morgan, Madison, and Megan come up to me. Sierra calls them the Fairfield M-factor.
Morgan hugs me. "Oh my God, are you okay?" she asks, pulling away and examining me.
"I heard Colin protected you. He's amazing. You're so lucky, Brit," Madison says, her signature curls
bouncing with each word. "It wasn't a big deal," I say, wondering what the rumor is in contrast to what really happened. "What exactly did Alex say?" Megan asks. "Caitlin took a picture on her cell of Alex and Colin in the hallway, but I couldn't make out what was going on."
"You guys better not be late for practice," Darlene yells from the end of the hallway. Just as quickly as
Darlene appeared, she's gone.
Megan opens her locker, which is next to mine, and pulls out her poms. "I hate the way Darlene kisses Ms.
Small's butt, she says under her breath.
I close my locker and we walk toward the practice field. "I think she's trying to focus on dance instead of
obsessing about Tyler going back to college."
Morgan rolls her eyes. "Whatever I don't even have a boyfriend so she gets zero sympathy from me."
"No sympathy from my end, either. Seriously, when is that girl not dating someone?" Madison asks. When we reach the practice field, our entire squad is sitting n the grass waiting for Ms. Small. Phew, we're
not late.
"I still can't believe you got stuck with Alex Fuentes, "Darlene says quietly to me as I find an open spot beside her.
"Wanna switch partners?" I ask, although Mrs. Peterson would never allow it. She made that crystal clear.
Darlene sticks her tongue out in full gross-out mode and whispers, No way. I never go slumming on the south
side. Mixing with that crowd'll get you nothing but trouble. Remember last year when Alyssa McDaniel dated
that one guy . . . what was his name?"
"Jason Avila?" I say in a low voice.
Darlene does a little shiver. "In a matter of weeks Alyssa went from being cool to being an outcast. The south side girls hated her for taking one of their guys and she stopped hanging with s. The confused little couple
was on an island all alone. Thank God Alyssa broke up with him." Ms. Small walks toward us with her CD player, complaining about someone moving it from her usual spot and that's why she's late.
When Ms. Small tells us to stretch, Sierra nudges Darlene over so she can talk to me.
"You are in big trouble, girl," Sierra says. "Why?" Sierra has "super" eyes and ears; she knows everything going on at Fairfield. My bestfriend says, "Rumor has it Carmen Sanchez is looking for you."
Oh, no. Carmen is Alex's girlfriend. I'm trying not to freak out and think the worst, but Carmen is tough, from her red-painted fingernails all the way down to her black, stiletto-heeled boots. Is she jealous I'm Alex's chem partner, or does she think I reported her boyfriend to the principal today?

Continued...

#TheForsaken

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I'm doing my best not to focus on those chichis as I take a step forward . "Did you report me t o Aguirre?"
She takes a step back. "What if I did?" "Mujer, you're afraid of me." It's not a question. I just want to hear from her own lips what her reason is.
"Most people at this school are scared that if they look at you wrong, you'll gun them down."
"Then my gun should be smokin' by now, shouldn't it? Why aren't you runnin' away from the badass Mexicano, huh?"
"Give me half a chance, I will." I've had enough of dancing around this little bitch. It's time to fluff up those feathers to make sure I end up wit h the upper hand. I close the distance between us and whisper in her ear, "Face the facts. Your life is too perfect. You probably lie awake at night, fantasizing about spicin' up all that lily whiteness you live in." But damn it, I get a whiff of vanilla from her perfume o r lotion. It reminds me of cookies. I love cookies, so this is
not good at all. " Gettin' near the fire, chica, doesn't necessarily mean you'll get burned."
"You touch her and you'll regret it, Fuentes," Colin's voice rings out. He resembles a burro, with his big white teeth and ears sticking out from his buzz cut. "Get the hell away from her." "Colin," Brittany says. "It's okay. I can handle this." Burro Face brought reinforcements: three other pasty white dudes, standing behind him for backup. I size up Burro Face and his friends to see if I can take them all on, and decide I could give all four a run for their money.


"When you're strong enough to play in the big leagues, jock boy, then I'll listen to the mierda flyin'
out of your mouth," I say.
Oth e r students are gathering around us, leaving room for a fight that is sure to be fast, furious, and blood y. Little do they know Burro Face is a runner. This time he's got backup, though, so may be he'll stay to duke it
out. I'm always prepared for a fight, been in more of 'em than I can count on my fingers and toes. I've got the scars to prove it. "Colin, he's not worth it," Brittany says. Thanks, mamacita. Right back at ya. "You threatening me, Fuentes?" Colin barks, ignoring his girlfriend. "No, asshole," I say, staring him down. "Little dicks like you make threats." Brittany parks her body in front of Collin and put her hand on his chest. "Don't listen to him," she says. "I'm not afraid of you. My dad's a lawyer," Collin brags, then puts his arm around Brittany. "She's mine. Don't
ever forget that." "Then keep a leash on her," I advise. "Or she might be tempted to find a new owner."
My friend paco comes up beside me. "Andas bien, Alex?" "Yeah, Paco," I tell him, then watch as two teachers walk down the hall escorted by a guy in a police uniform. This is what Adams wants, perfectly planned to get my ass kicked out of school. I'm not falling into his trap only to end up on Aguirre's hit list. "Si, everything's bien." I turn to Brittany. "Catch ya later,
mamacita. I'm looking forward to researching our chemistry."
Before I leave and save myself from suspension on top of my detention, Brittany sticks that perky nose of hers in the air as if I'm the scum of the earth.

I have definitely invaded his territory. Good. "Quiet down, class," Patterson says sternly. "Thank you for those very creative and . . . enlightening introductions. Miss Ellis and Mr. Fuentes, please see me after class." "Your introductions were not only appalling, they were disrespectful to me and the rest of your classmates," Patterson says after class as Brittany and I stand in front of her desk. "You have a choice." Our teacher holds out two blue detention slips in one hand and two pieces of notebook paper in the other. "You can either serve detention today after school or write a five-hundred-word essay on 'respect' to hand in tomorrow. Which is it?" I reach over and grab the detention slip. Brittany reaches out for the notebook paper. Figures. "Do either of you have a problem with the way I assign chemistry partners?" Patterson asks, "Yes," at the same time I say, "Nope." Patterson sets her glasses on her desk. "Listen, you two better work out your differences before this year is up. Brittany, I won't be assigning you a different partner. You're both seniors and will have to deal with a plethora of people and personalities after you graduate. If you don't want to go to summer school for flunking my class, I suggest you work together instead of against each other. Now hurry to your next class."
With that, I follow my little chem partner out of the room and down the hall. "Stop following me," she snaps, looking over her shoulder to check how many people are watching us walk down the hall together. As if I'm eldiablo myself. "Wear long sleeves on Saturday night," I tell her, knowing full well she's reaching the end of her sanity rope. I usually don't try to get under the skin of white chicks, but this one is fun to rattle. This one, the most popular and coveted one of all, actually cares. "It gets pretty cold on the back of my motorcycle." Listen, Alex," she says, whipping herself around and tossing that sun-kissed hair over her shoulder. She faces me with clear eyes made of ice.

"I don't date guys in gangs, and I don't use drugs." "I don't date guys in gangs, either," I say, stepping closer to her. "And I'm no user." "Yeah, right. I'm surprised you're not in rehab or some juvie boot camp." "You think you know me?" "I know enough." Se folds her arms across her chest, but then looks down as if she realizes her stance makes her chichis stand out, and drops her hands to her side.

Brittany flashes me a triumphant smile, thinking she's won this round. Guess again, grina. I sit up in my chair while the class remains silent. "This is Brittany Ellis," I say, all eyes now focused on me. "This summer she went to the mall' bought new clothes so she could expand her wardrobe, and spent he daddy's money on plastic surgery to enhance her, ahem, assets." It might not be what she wrote, but it's probably close enough to the truth. Unlike her introduction of me. Chuckle come from mis cuates in the back of the class, and Brittany is as stiff as a board beside me, as if my words hurt her precious ego. Brittany Ellis is used to people fawning all over her and she could use a little wake-up call. I'm actually doing her a favor. Little does she know I'm not finished with her intro.

"Her secret desire," I add getting the same reaction as she did during her introuduction, "is to date a Mexicano before she graduates." As expected, my words are met by comments and low whistles from the back of the room. "Way to go, Fuentes," my friend Lucky barks out. "I'll date you, mamacita," another says. I give a hgh five to another Latino Blood named Marcus sitting behind me just as I catch Isa shaking her head as if I did something wrong. What? I'm just having a little fun with a rich girl from the north side.

Brittany's gaze shifts from Colin to me. I take one look at Colin and with my eyes tell hime game one. Colin's face instantly turns bright red, resembling a chile pepper.

CHAPTER 6 Alex
Okay, so I shouldn't have bleeped with her on the introduction thing. Writing nothing except, Saturday night.
You and me. Driving lessons and hot sex ... in her notebook probably wasn't the smartest move. But I was
itching to make Little Miss Perfecta stumble in her introduction of me. And stumbling she is.
"Miss Ellis?"
I watch in amusement as Perfection herself looks up at Peterson. Oh, she's good. This partner of mine knows
how to hide her true emotions, something I recognize because I do it all the time.
"Yes?" Brittany says, tilting her head and smiling like a beauty queen.
I wonder if that smile has ever gotten her out of a speeding ticket.
"It's your turn. Introduce Alex to the class."
I lean an elbow on the lab table, waiting for an introduction she has to either make up or fess up she knows
less than crap about me. She glances at my comfortable position and I can tell from her deer-in-the-headlights
look I've stumped her.
"This is Alejandro Fuentes," she starts, her voice hitching the slightest bit. My temper flares at the mention of my given name, but I keep a cool facade as she continues
with a made-up introduction. "When he wasn't hanging out on street corners and harassing innocent people
this summer, he toured the inside of jails around the city, if you know what I mean. And he has a secret desire
nobody would ever guess."
The room suddenly becomes quiet. Even Peterson straightens to attention. Hell, even I'm listening like the
words coming out of Brittany's lying, pink-frosted lips are gospel.
"His secret desire," she continues, "is to go to college and become a chemistry teacher, like you, Mrs.
Peterson."
Yeah, right. I look over at my friend Isa, who seems amused that a white girl isn't afraid of giving me smack in
front of the entire class.

"I got things I can boast about, Mrs. P.," Alex says, obviously amusing himself. Mrs. Peterson holds up a hand. "Please spare us the details, Alex."
I shake my head. If Alex thinks antagonizing the teacher will get us a good grade, he's sadly mistaken. It's obvious Mrs. Peterson doesn't like smart-asses and my partner is already on her radar. "Now," Mrs. Delusional says, "look at the person sitting next to you."
Anything but that. But I don't have a choice. I glance over at Colin again, who seems pretty content with his
assigned partner. Darlene already has a boyfriend or I seriously would be questioning why she's leaning a bit too close to Colin and flipping her hair back too many times. I tell myself I'm being paranoid.
"You don't have to like your partner," Mrs. Peterson says, "but you're stuck together for the next ten months. Take five minutes to get to know each other, then each of you will introduce your partner to the class. Talk about what you did over the summer, what hobbies you have, or anything else interesting or unique your classmates might not know about you. Your five minutes start now."
I take out my notebook, flip to the first page, and shove it at Alex. "Why don't you write down stuff about
yourself in my notebook and I'll do the same in yours." It's better than trying to have a conversation with him.


Alex nods in agreement, although I think I caught the corners of his mouth twitch as he hands me his
notebook. Did I imagine that twitch or did it really happen? Taking a deep breath, I wipe that thought from my mind and write diligently until Mrs. Peterson instructs us to stop and listen to each other's introductions.
"This is Darlene Boehm," Colin begins, being the first to speak.
But I don't hear the rest of Colin's speech about Darlene and her trip to Italy and her experience at dance
camp this summer. Instead, I glance down at the notebook given back to me by Alex and stare at the words
on the page with my mouth open.

"Si, senora," Alex says, deliberately slow. Mrs. Paterson goes down the rest of the list while I do everything in my power not to make eye contact with the guy sitting next to me. It's too bad I left my purse in my locker or I could pretend to look for nothing like Sierra did this morning. "This suck," Alex mumbles to himself. His voice is dark and husky. Does he make it that way on purpose? How am I going to explain to my mother I have to partner with Alex Fuentes? Oh, God, I hope she doesn't blame me somehow for screwing this up.


I glance at my boyfriend, deep in conversation with Darlene. I'm so jealous. Why couldn't my last name be Allis instead of Ellis so I could sit next to him? It'd be cool if God gave everyone a Do Over Day and you could yell "Do Over!" and the day would start new. This would definitely qualify for a DOD. Does Mrs. Paterson actually think it's reasonable to pair the captain of the pom-pom squad with the most dangerous guy in school? The woman is delusional. Mrs. Delusional finally finishes assigning seats. "I know you seniors think you know everything. But never think of yourself as a success until you can help treat diseases that plague mankind or make the earth a safer place to live. The field of chemistry plays a crucial role in developing medicines, radiation treatments for cancer patients, petroleum uses, the ozone--" Alex raises his hand. "Alex," the teacher says. "Do you have a question?"

"Uh, Mrs. Paterson, are you sayin' the president of the U.S. isn't a success?" "What I'm saying is . . . money and status aren't everything. Use your brain and do something for mankind or the planet you live on. Then you're a success. And you'll have earned my respect, which not many people in the world can boast about."