The Nowhere Girls(33)

A light burns in Grace’s core. A small flame flickers in her dark expanses. God’s wordless voice tells her this is the sign she was waiting for.

She turns around. She sees all these girls talking to one another, all these girls who normally wouldn’t mix. Grace wants to celebrate. She wants to hug somebody. A twinge of pride surfaces: She wants to tell them she did this. Then shame takes pride’s place. Does Mom’s ego ever rear its ugly head like this? Does her chest fill with pride when she looks around at her rapt congregation? Does she forget to be humble? Does she forget we are only ever vessels of God, of His work? Does she ever, just a little bit, want to take His place?

A commotion in the halls. Coach Baxter and his football cronies march through, tearing down the signs. “This is unacceptable,” Coach says, his face red, veins pulsing out of his neck. “Principal Slatterly will not condone these rumors. This is bullying, ladies. That’s what this is.”

Somebody coughs, “Bullshit.”

“Who said that?” one of the football boys barks. “Who the fuck said that?”

Then Elise Powell comes striding through the madness in the hall, a pure, beautiful smile on her freckled face. Grace catches her eye, and the warmth inside her grows and grows until she’s full, until it can’t be contained, until it bursts out of Grace’s skin and through the hall and wraps Elise up inside it, and their smiles light the hall with their secret.

We did this, their eyes say. We all did this.

*

By the end of first period, most of the posters were defaced. By the end of second period, they had all been torn down. Someone wrote THE NOWHERE GIRLS SUCK!!! with lipstick across the first-floor girls’ bathroom mirrors.

After the excitement of the morning, lunch is a letdown. Things haven’t changed. People are sitting at their usual tables. The trolls are still central, still as cocky as ever, their voices and laughter even louder than normal as they joke about the morning’s events.

How na?ve to think one poster would change things. How stupid to think it would diminish their power.

“It’s like everyone forgot already,” Grace says.

“And you’re surprised?” says Rosina.

“I have exciting news about sea urchins,” Erin says, and begins a five-minute monologue.

Just as Erin starts to explain eversible stomachs, Elise Powell plops down next to her. Erin’s eyes go wide in shock. Suddenly the three girls’ tiny lunch table island is not so isolated. Suddenly they have achieved communication with the outside world.

“I just told Coach Baxter I’m quitting as manager of the football team,” Elise tells them. “To protest the sexist culture they propagate in this school.” She grins proudly.

“What’d he say?” says Grace.

“He was totally speechless at first,” Elise says. “His mouth just hung open for a while. Then he got pissed. His face got so red, I thought smoke was going to start coming out of his ears. Then he was just like, ‘Fine. Get out of my office,’ like he was trying really hard to control himself. So I got out of his office.”

“You go, girl,” Rosina says, but Grace can’t tell whether she’s being sarcastic or sincere.

“Thanks.” Elise smiles. “Well, I guess I’ll see you guys later.” Then she walks away to return to her usual table of girl jocks.

“That was weird,” Erin says.

“See?” Grace says. “Things are changing.”

“I hate to burst your bubble,” Rosina says, “but I don’t think Elise quitting as manager of the football team is a sign that we’re destroying the patriarchy.”

“Can you just let me have my moment, please?” Grace says.

But then something in the air shifts. Erin looks up in horror, as if she can smell danger. Grace can feel the presence behind her before the cruel voice speaks: “Oh, look, the two crazy bitches got a new fat friend.”

Rosina spins around and glares at Eric Jordan, who is standing behind her. “This isn’t your lunch, shitbird.”

He holds up a hall pass. “Just passing through.”

“Pass a little faster.”

“You’ve got spunk, I’ll give you that,” Eric says with a grin. “And I like a challenge.”

“Is that a threat?” Rosina says, standing up like she’s ready to fight him.

Eric laughs. “It was supposed to be compliment.”

“That was not a fucking compliment, you sexist piece of shit.”

“Whatever,” he says. He looks Rosina up and down one last time, like a wolf eyeing meat. “You’re not worth the trouble.” Then he walks away, laughing to himself as if the rest of the world is in on the joke.

Rosina is shaking with anger, her face red, her hands fists. “I feel homicidal right now,” she says between clenched teeth. “This is why people shouldn’t have guns.”

“Oh my God,” Grace says. She can’t think of anything else to say, so she says “Oh my God” again.

“We have to get that fucking bastard,” Rosina says. “We’re getting together after school today, right? To figure out what to do next?”

“Absolutely,” Grace says. “Erin, what about you?”

But Erin is hunched over, rocking back and forth. She is somewhere inside herself, trapped. She is not with them.