Carol couldn't have given her leather purse a more hearty pat if she tried. Of course, a slap too aggressive didn't bode well for the contents inside, but it got the point across. Her young eyes peered up to the windshield, watching her blessed father driving down the road.

"They're gonna love it!" Carol proclaimed as she gripped the purse, "Once they see it, they're gonna be like 'Aww, I want a cell phone too'," she allowed her puffy cheeks to sag, allowing her palms to squish them to her heart's content, "Then I'll ask them for their number, but then I'll be like, 'Oh wait! You don't have a number!'"

Carol chuckled heartily to herself. Her entire body filled up with a childish energy. She was used to this amazing feeling.

"Don't forget that other kids aren't so lucky," Dad said, his eyes gazing into the overhead mirror.

"I know! But still! A cellphone! A real cellphone in my purse with my own phone number! I can call all the cool girls in town with this thing!"

"Of course, after they get their's!" she told herself.

The rest of the ride couldn't have gone quickly enough. All Carol could see was all the dropped jaws and starstruck eyes that would flash out the moment she whipped out her latest toy. Then they would have to like her. Though of course, Carol knew she was already popular. Yup. This would merely solidify her standing. She proudly puffed her nostrils as she sprung her purse onto her lap.

When the car finally rolled up at Royal Woods Elementary, Carol wasted little time in shifting down the long leather row.

"Bye Daddy! I love you!"

Her father chuckled.

"Love you too, Carol," he said warmly.

As soon as her proper brown flats hit the pavement, she was off to the races. Unsnapping the noise pearl button from her purse, Carol stuffed her hand and sifted through the insides. It was little moments like these where she got annoyed with how much she owned.

Lipstick, jewelry, hand lotion, and pretty much anything some average girl could dream of was packed into a pricey purse that would single-handedly satisfy any one of them. Her parents told her to count her blessings and that anyone would be lucky to have the valuables she possesses. But come on. This is an inconvenience, one burden those girls will never need to bear.

But before she could pity herself too much, Carol felt that familiar plastic surface. Yes, she exclaimed to herself. This must be it. She pulled her hand out, allowing her eyes to feast on the beautiful sight before her.

The purple, diamond-encrusted flip phone rested firmly in her palm. Even after using it yesterday, its glitzy surface and big feeling in her hand still felt novel. She knew she was a big girl just being near something so professional, so stylish, and so nice.

Carol proceeded into the building with her head on a swivel. Her eyes scanned the halls, preparing for that inevitable moment when the girls would swarm into the vicinity. She didn't want to hold her breath, but the searing anticipation could barely be anchored behind her "humble" smug.

There were no takers (or at least, not at first). It was early in the morning, she assured herself. The real wannabes were still hunkered in their tin cans sipping metallic-tasting water with packet-size coffee-flavoring from a styrofoam cup...from a convenience store! Gross. And those already in? Well, no wonder they still had those bags over their eyes. These people need to experience caffeine.

She pressed on in her pursuit to recognition. It didn't make sense. Every time she got something new and fancy, no less than one person would stop and tell her how great it was. On the first day of school, Cassidy and Tara gushed about how amazing her blue dress. Carol couldn't help but think she had the best attire for class pictures; her hair was perfected with top-of-the-line hairspray, the dress must have cost at least a hundred dollars, the fabric was the smoothest of silk, and that blue matched the sky only crafted in heaven.

And that was just her dress! Carol didn't need to gush about all the other things that got Cassidy's and Tara's attention. Where were they anyway?

At long last, she made it to Mrs. Turner's room. Her classmates filled up most of the open desks, leaving her with a long walk to her seat. She gazed down at her phone and tapped some buttons. The small screen across the top flickered as her fat thumbs clumped up against the hundreds of plastic buttons. The button mashing crackled like a roll of bubble wrap popping, with each successive tap giving new promise for exciting rewards.

No one spoke up about it, but Carol wasn't about her let her body cave in. Not yet. She didn't even see if Cassidy had shown up. She's always there to back her up. Like on the day she got this lovely purse. She specifically remembered her saying that she wished she had something as pretty as that. Carol was grateful for her adoring fan.

Carol plopped herself down and scanned across the room. She left the phone flat on the desk, with the diamond-encrusted back pointing up. Granted they were tiny little diamonds, but they must have had a little glimmer. It was moments like these where Carol dreaded the school's cursed fluorescent lights: they always dampened what could be amazing sights of beauty.

Sure enough, those two showed up together only several minutes later. Gazing at the clock, Carol's heart tightened at the meager two minutes before class was to commence. What took them so long anyway? Regardless, any time was better than no time.

Cassidy and Tara were special cases when it came to presenting her goodies. Whereas the others required pleading, showing off, and (metaphorical) arm-twisting, with those two, Carol just needed to sit back and put on a show. It wasn't hard, really. Just wait for those two to waltz on over and see the phone she had "accidentally" left out. The curiosity bug did the rest while Carol played it cool and coy. And so, she leaned back in her seat and occasionally glanced over at them; luckily, that wasn't too hard, given how they sat next to each other. Any minute now, they would follow suit.

From what she could gather, Cassidy was busy running her mouth while Tara held one of those stupid smiles she was prone to make. Maybe they just happened to pop in the class in the midst of some epic story. Why else would Cassidy be talking so much? Why else weren't they already up in her business? Carol tried not to hold it against poor Cassidy for failing to report her story in her presence. But she would be forgiven once they met up. Any moment now.

Carol caught another glimpse at the clock. That red hand was in an awful rush to get to the 12. As Carol's forehead heated up, she wished it would slow down...or perhaps Cassidy would wrap it up. The window of opportunity was quickly fading and Carol didn't know if she would make it to recess keeping in her juicy news. She wanted to holler across the room. Her entire body was primed for just that sort of thing. But social expectations kept her at bay. This was Carol Pingrey. She was too cool for that sort of thing. The most she could muster was a wave. Yes, a pathetic hand wave. She bored holes into those two, hoping her little modest gesture would be enough to break through their unusual lull.

But before it could work its magic, Mrs. Turner spoke up.

"Good morning class, I hope you all had a nice weekend," she said in sickeningly sweet voice. All Carol could wonder was whether she could speak any slower? Gazing up at the clock, that pesky red hand finally decided to take its sweet time making its rounds. Great...

She wanted to see herself as a good student, someone that always had their homework in on time, someone that raised their hand in class, someone that aced all the tests, and someone that wore the label "teacher's pet" like a badge of merit. But we all have off days sometimes. Right? It wasn't her fault she couldn't keep her focus on anything happening in front of the room. Carol's eyes darted between the phone on her desk, the clock, Cassidy and Tara, and any other random thing she desired. She wasn't trying to aim her sights on anything. Everything about her that was outside her control decided to take over for once. In a way, it was funny. Most shows that had such careless, unfocused souls usually depicted their behavior as something enjoyable, as a good so precious that their owners could find virtually any reason in the world to not give it up. But this? This was simply unbearable.

Carol vaguely glimpsed the chalk board, which had some silly numbers and plus signs on it. This was something she already knew, she thought. So at least she wasn't being punished for being stuck in this prison called a body. Her lips forced shut by fear of reprimand, her hands gripping the edge of her desk for dear life. Her clothes and hair perfectly manicured to match the ideal image she sought day in and day out. Look at her, she imagined the others saying. Isn't she such a role model? What I'd give to be just like her, to have all these wonderful things. She wanted to sigh just thinking about that, but her lungs lacked the muster to produce this relieving gesture.

At one point, her eyes fell on a different classmate. Ah yes...Lori. With her simple clothes, her simple school supplies, her simple hair job, and even her simple name. She was just the specimen that would kill to match Carol's level. Or at least, that's how Carol herself saw it. It didn't take long for the simple Loud to realize her incidental grace of eye contact and respond with a groan. Before she could count to three, she crossed her arms and pivoted about as far out of her sight as possible. The typical reaction. But what did Lori know anyway? She took one look at her amazing new cellphone and let the jealously bug dig into her faster than termites can eat wood.

Someday, she'll come around and see the light.

But enough about the future. Just thinking about it made everything in Carol's belly go sour. Her eyes made another trip to the clock where the red hand just ticks. Tick. Tick. One could count to ten before this stupid thing counts to one. Tick. And it won't go any faster.

Gah. She needed something, anything that would break the flow. Perhaps she could pay attention to Mrs. Turner's lesson. That had to be at least something different. Just numbers, plus signs, and minus signs. What more could one want?

"Now we have this pesky nine," Mrs. Turner said, turning to the board, which read 9-8. She poked the nine with the piece of chalk as she continued, "And he's like: Hey one, how'ya doing? And the little one is like: I eight too much. Ohhhhh," she clamped her finger into her tummy as she twisted her face into a nauseating mess, "I'm so sick. Bleh!" and just like that, she sprung back to her cheery self, "And that is how you subtract any number by eight! Now let's say nine wants to get in on the action,"

Great. Now her words were starting to fade in the background. Whoever thought that feelings in your head could seep out to your ears, blocking out all the noise around you? Well, Carol Pingrey had finally figured it out. Her eyes collapsed back down to her phone. That silly, silly thing her Daddy went out and got her.

But before she resigned herself to a morning in her mental prison, an idea burst to life. Carol's eyes widened at the sheer prospect. Her vision zeroed in on the phone's large, fairly appetizing screen. Sure it was turned off right now, but...would she dare? No. Unless. There had to be a better way out of this. Carol wanted to believe that there was something else she could have done to get out of here. Maybe a bathroom break, but she didn't have the slightest tickle in her body. Maybe a water break. Sure, her mouth was parched as heck, but using up her one allowed trip to the water fountain would have led to a morning of drought. This truly was her only option. And besides, it was her phone. What good was it if she didn't use it. Right?

Plucking it from her desk, she tapped the power switch, lighting up the blue screen like a Christmas tree. The overlay was simply stunning. She had already replaced the default wallpaper with her own, that being a picture of her bedroom with a smiling Carol Pingrey lying tummy-down on the white fluffy bed. What more could a girl want, right? Tapping the messages key, she pulled up a list of all her contacts, which proudly consisted of:

"Dad

Mom"

Just like that, her spirits deflated. She knew she was the first girl in her grade to get a hold of a cellphone. For the longest time, this diamond-encrusted piece of plastic felt like a trophy of her grace and perfection. Everyone else wanted one, but she was the one lucky enough to own one. She felt just like a teenager. Oh, how she yearned for that glorious moment where she would dominate the halls, wear all the stylish clothes, and even have a funny sitcom made just for her. And she'll have her little posse roaming around. And every time someone does something quirky, she and her girls will laugh and say "We're ridiculous!"

Ah. Nothing beats a life like that. But just as quickly as it came to mind, Carol was reminded of the cold reality before her. Here she was with the thing all the cool teens had. She even felt like a teen trapped in a first grader's body. But she didn't know anyone in high school. The little teenage Carol in her mind sighed. She was an only child, which meant no friends of a big sister. No little babies at home to boss around or feel big near. Aside from her parents, she was all by herself when she came home from school. Sure, she had the occasional play date, but those were just silly things her parents put together with some lame nobody from class. It wasn't the same as having a real, bonafide teenager around. If only she had a number she could fire off a message to. Just a simple "hi" or "LOL". Anything that gave this phone some value would make this whole morning worth it.

Maybe if she just tapped out a random number, it could at least get somewhere. Yeah, that sounded like a smart idea. Just get those fat thumbs over to the number screen and-

"Carol!"

Her heart bounced into her throat. Her entire head, not just her eyes, flung up so rapidly she could vomit. Mrs. Turner had her arms crossed. Carol gulped as she awaited what came next.

"We don't let kids use cellphones in class," she said sternly. Carol's grip tightened on her precious device. It became her life raft in a sea of terror, wooziness, and astonishment that threatened to sweep her away, "Please put it on my desk. I will give it back to you at the end of the day."

Not wanting to disappoint her beloved teacher anymore, she jumped from her seat. As she made the shameful walk to Mrs. Turner's ominous desk, her shoulders lurched forward, her head practically collapsed, refusing to accept that this was happening. Carol squeezed her eyes shut as she dropped the device on the desk and raced back to her seat.

Sure enough, Mrs. Turner had returned to her lesson, having seemingly forgot about the outburst. Carol clenched her hands together, this time without the plastic security of her cellphone. Sweat accumulated on her forehead while her trembling knuckles turned white. Her eyes gazed over to Lori who, upon realizing the contact, shot her a raspberry. A raspberry! Now she was really paying the price.

She knew she needed to focus on Mrs. Turner to win back her trust. Carol was ashamed that she had allowed herself to be the subject of scorn. She prided herself in being a good student. She was a good girl. She wasn't one of those troublemakers and she wasn't about to start. And so, with bated breath, she forced her eyes on the chalkboard. No matter what, Carol was going to have herself completely transfixed in the lesson plan. At least now under all this stress and guilt, something was keeping her focused. Or at least, making her appear focused.

Recess couldn't have come soon enough. Carol couldn't bear to be in that classroom any longer. Between the tsunami of nerves and shame, mixed with the pain of holding herself still, she felt this could have been a chance to forget about that nightmare.

There was just one problem. Cassidy and Tara were nowhere to be found. Normally, she would have stuck to those two like peas in a pod. Who cares if there could only have been two? Together, those three formed an impenetrable bond. They were the only three girls in Royal Woods Elementary that had good taste and understood how the world ought to be. And without them, she was left to sulk against the wall, watching those silly kids act like a bunch of babies.

Look at them. Three girls chased on the pavement in front of her, playing tag. Another two cackling on the seesaw. Boys playing football. And a bunch of them on the slide and the swings. So immature. They didn't think about real grown up stuff, like she did. It was so boring waiting for Cassidy and Tara to join her, leaving her to watch this child's play.

Still, there were so many of them out and about, playing their free time away. Looking around, there were very few kids just hanging out on the wall. Seeing the lack of kids there sure felt lonely. But Carol shook her head. She wasn't about to start playing ball with them. It wasn't her thing, after all. It was only now, away from anyone that may judge her, that Carol could let out a sigh. It was nice letting the pent up air blow out her mouth, letting her tight shoulders sag. For the first time today, she could finally cool down and feel the breeze.

From the corner of her eye, she saw two girls emerge out the door. Lifting her head, she quickly put the proper names to the faces she saw. Yes, Carol thought. And just like that, she was off to the races, determined to catch up to the two. It barely brushed her mind that the two didn't immediately spot her from afar. But no worries. Better late than never. As she got closer, she noticed that the two were chatting it up again, much like what they did in the morning. Not this time, Carol told herself. She waited far too long for this. She was finally going to win their attention.

"Hey girls," she exclaimed, throwing up an open palm. Sure enough, their conversation faded out as both turned to her.

"Oh, hi Carol," Tara said, gripping her purse, "how'ya doing?"

"Great!" Carol replied eagerly, "I've been meaning to talk to you two all day!"

"Sorry about that that," Cassidy said, turning to her fellow Tara, "you would never believe the weekend I had. So, like, my Mom took me to the mall and she got me the best lipstick in the whole world."

Carol propped up a nervous smile and rubbed her wrist. Indeed, both her friends tried their best to seem happy. Perhaps, everyone was just nervous. Sometimes, humility settled in given a mound of riches.

"Wow," Carol said tensely, squeezing her wrist, "that's amazing. I have something to tell you two too."

"Really? What is it?" Cassidy asked.

"Well, uh," Carol said. Her lips wobbled about as she tried to find the right words. Suddenly, her arms became loose noodles trying to fuddle and about during this reveal, "I got a new phone over the weekend," she said, placing her hands front and center, forming a sandwich, "it was from the Mall and was pretty cheap. It can call people, you can, uh text people with it," she paused, "oh, and it also has diamonds on the case. And, uh, yeah. It's pretty cool."

The two friends turned to each other. All Carol could wonder is what those two dunces were thinking. Surely, this news was so earth-shattering, they were at a loss of words. She knew she would have been had one of them been good enough to get one of their own. Yeah, that's how she anticipated the moment when Cassidy's eyes finally met her.

"Oh, that's cool," she fairly, rather cooly.

That's it?! After a whole morning of sitting in that metal chair, barely absorbing Mrs. Turner's lesson plan, half-listening to her classmates during the group activities, surviving the grueling trip to Mrs. Turner's desk. And this was all she had to show for it. There needed to be more.

"But you see, uh," Carol interjected, "the phone, I, uh, don't have it right now. It's sitting in Mrs. Turner's desk," she then hacked out a chuckle, praying that the performance would end, "But if I had, then I would show it to you. You know how it is."

"Yeah," Tara responded, forcing up a smile of her own.

Beneath her own contorted expression, the dying Carol struggled to keep it all together. Where were the giddy squealing that accompanied her past reveals? This phone had to be ten times the value of that silly purse. And it wasn't like Cassidy or Tara were growing out of girl things. She was the trailblazer that led to them replacing their childish pencil bags with full-on leather purses. If it weren't for her, neither of them would even know what lipstick was. Carol had opened their eyes and everything she ever heard from them echoed gratitude, appreciation, and respect. Even this past Friday, she remembered making Tara laugh with a hilarious joke about how gross and uncivilized boys were.

So where was that girl magic now? Did they forget it at home today? That couldn't be! She saw both of their purses strapped around each of their shoulders. So what gives?

"So, uh, do you like it?" Carol asked anxiously.

"Please say yes! Please say yes! Please say yes!" Carol thought behind her toothy grin.

"Yeah," Cassidy said half-heartedly, "I guess."

Carol turned to Tara, who could only muster a simple nod.

And then the silence settled in. That awful, nasty void from which nothing could be exchanged aside from incidental glances and only awkward feelings could linger in the air like a skunk's stench. Luckily, Carol still had her purse, which latched her fingers to, wrapping the leather strap. Her mind went to work on a flat-footed start, trying to find how to follow up this unexpected conversation.

"Wanna, like, sit by the tree and chat?" Carol asked, her voice inflated.

The two girls turned to each other. It was another instance of Carol watching them from the outside, hoping to be let inside. Hopefully, they would agree. Please, after all she had been through, let her know that it wasn't in vain. The moment their eyes met her couldn't have come soon enough.

"I guess," Cassidy said with a shrug.

And that was enough, in Carol's eyes, for a girly grin. She would be spared another episode of boredom and emptiness.

At long last, the day had finally drawn to an end. Carol was stunned she was thinking that. And to think she once saw this day as one she couldn't wait for. Carol let out a sigh, trying to let the past be in the past. Gripping her backpack like a teddy bear, she inched over to Mrs. Turner's desk. Her lips puckered inward, too ashamed to let anything comfortable out.

"Um," she mustered, "I, uh,"

"Oh yes," Mrs. Turner said without a trail of malice in her voice. She eagerly reached into one of her desk's drawers and pulled out her beloved diamond-encrusted phone. Carol's eyes widened as she saw her possession just inches away from her, "here you go."

"T-thank you," Carol answered reluctantly as she was handed her device back.

"Cell phones are great for when something goes wrong and you need to talk to your parents," Mrs. Turner explained, "but during school, you should leave it in your backpack. It takes your mind away from learning."

She mustered every ounce of strength to keep her head held up. She wasn't going to look like a coward in front of the teacher, even as her legs shook.

"Okay," she said, "I'm sorry."

Mrs. Turner smiled.

"It's alright, Carol," she said warmly, surprising the nervous student, "not many kids your age have a cellphone."

"I know."

And just like that, Carol headed out. It didn't even occur to her that she had forgotten to say goodbye to her fellow teacher, as she was so accustomed to. Holding to her phone and backpack like a teddy bear, all Carol could think about was getting out of the room and letting the day slip into the past. It was funny, maybe she would look back on this moment years from now and laugh. Pretty silly of her to think that she could just pick up her phone and try texting her Dad of all people. Ah. She sure was ridiculous.

As she sulked down the hall, Carol kept trying to find a silver lining. She forced her head up, hoping she wouldn't accidentally bump into someone or, dare she imagine, drawing someone's attention.

Then her eyes widened. About twenty feet ahead of her was the old bulletin board. Yes. It was the wall of fame with the names of everyone on the school's honor roll from the last report card. Names of brilliant minds and fierce intellectuals lined that noble wall, gracing its recipients with an air of prideful superiority. Sure, it was placed right next to the bathroom, but one rarely dwelt on that when in that shining bastion's presence. Just when she thought she was lost, a reminder of that beautiful wall was going to save her from this yucky, yucky day.

And so she rushed forth, determined to get another glimpse of her own name shimmering on that wall of greats. She wasn't just a good girl. She was a great girl. Everyone she knew was proud of her and seeing that reminder of good (uh, great) grades would finally give that sweet validation. The only thing standing between her and seeing her name was some girl standing just inches away from the wall. No worries, Carol thought. That would be easy.

Carol slowed to a halt once she was near this kid. As expected, she clearly didn't have the latest gadgets or even stylish clothes. All she had was dumb dress that couldn't decide whether it wanted to be blue or green, so it settled on some murky middle carrying the ugliest parts of both with none of the beauty. How simple, Carol. No, how pathetic.

What she was doing here, anyway? There was no way she stopped by here for a pick-me-up too. And yet, here she was, staring at the wall, frozen from its glory. Not even the wind could even move a strand of this girl's hair from its singular, unwavering spot. No one had to live with the same burdens and challenges as the refined Carol Pingrey. And no one had higher priority to bask in the wall's wonder than she, the amazing and entitled Carol Pingrey.

"Um, excuse me," Carol said.

Nothing. Not even a blink of the eye graced this kid. Of course, Carol understood why anyone would want to keep observing, interpreting and analyzing the academic journeys behind each student smart enough to get all A's on their report cards. But come on.

"E-Excuse me," Carol said, leaning in closer. To boot, she tossed up one of her firm hands and waved it, "Could you, like, scoot over?"

And then she remembered one of the lessons her Mom and Dad have tried instilling in her. Carol often failed to remember it, but suddenly, it burst into her brain like a a catchy tune.

"Please."

It didn't matter, though, because the girl wouldn't budge. Sure, she blinked, but given its delay, Carol was convinced its cause had nothing to do with her interjection. Was she deaf, Carol asked. No, that was silly. Her Grampa was pretty close to deaf and he wore a big hearing aid that looked like it was attached to his body. But this little kid didn't seem to have that at all. Was she ignoring her? As hard as that was to believe, Carol suspected it was possible. But why? What grievance would anyone have against her, let alone from this complete stranger. Needless to say, more assertive action was required.

"Hey," Carol declared, encroaching ever closer, not that the kid seemed to notice, "Scoot. Over. Please!"

Carol latched her hand onto the girl's wrist, hoping to finally win her attention. Well, she succeeded. The kid, using what limited coordination she could employ, pressed her hands against Carol's chest. Was she trying to shove her with open palms? Her fingers were bent, letting her knuckles touch the skin. Even with the limp force the girl used, Carol didn't know what to make of it.

"No," the girl mumbled. She couldn't even bother to look Carol in the eye, opting to stare at the floor. It was a change, she supposed. But Carol knew she had a battle to fight.

Well, this girl didn't seem very strong. Easy bait, she supposed. Using her free hand, Carol slowly reached for one of the girl's arms. All she had to do was nudge it out from her frame and wrap around the kid's positioning. She lowered one of her fingers on the wrist, hoping it would pop out like a loose Jenga block.

Easier said than done, though. Carol was oomfed back with another "push".

"Noooooo," the girl groaned, still looking down, "I," she said, "like here."

She didn't want to lose her cool here, not over some nobody girl. But for crying out loud, this dumb kid was making things difficult. What was up with her anyway? Carol kept trying to break free from her awkward grip, doing her best to ignore her "half-hearted" mumbling. Throughout the whole ordeal, the girl couldn't even be bothered to look her victim in the eye. Yet here she was, being more stubborn than a locked door. Carol even tried gripping the girl's shoulders, only to met with slaps and shoves. They might have hurt if they had any precision, but they managed to fill Carol with pent-up frustration. As embarrassing as this "fight" might have looked to onlookers, the heat of the moment felt quite real to Carol Pingrey. This girl quickly became the object of her impatience.

So what kept her going? Her glance turned to the beloved honor roll board, where the names were too small to be read from this angle. If only this ditz wasn't blocking her path, she could get her validation and finally feel good about herself.

"Leni!" she heard.

Just like that, the girl let up, giving Carol the room to back up and see the other kid enter the frame. Oh, she thought. It was that loser Lori again with Leni still frozen with her head pointed to the ground. With whatever grace she could muster, Lori gripped the girl's hand. For some reason, it didn't draw any clumsy protest.

"I," Leni said, not even bothering to look up at Lori, "like standing here."

"Well," Lori said before shooting a glare at Carol. And then, she had the nerve to grin deviously. How dare she, Carol thought, "that's okay."

"I like it."

"I know you do," Lori said soothingly, turning her back to Carol, "so, I know I just got out, but do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Silence. Well, that didn't stop Carol's mind from running wild. Did either of them realize who they had graced the presence of? Did they have any mercy for the pressing need the one Carol Pingrey needed at this moment. Carol needed relief herself. Could this hurry this up? These seconds dragged on for an eternity, long enough for Lori to shoot her some glances. What did she have up her sleeve this time?

"I...dunno," Leni said after what felt like ages. Lori quickly jerked her head to Carol just for good measure before snapping back to the girl.

"Well," she said before pausing. Great, Carol thought, more delay. Her shoulders hunched forward as she waited for the moment of truth, "that's fine. It's been a long day, after all. And I think it's time we went home."

"Um...okay."

Finally, Lori turned around, allowing her body to face her. Lori gripped her firm hand around Leni's, who was too distracted by the tile floor. Carol placed her hands on her hips and propped up her shoulders. Nothing beat a little posterity after all. That'll show Lori and Leni for disrespecting her graciousness. Maybe Leni will bother to look up for once to realize who she had messed with. Not that Carol was a vengeful person by any means, but she prided herself in teaching those that had strayed off path. Who couldn't respect those that shine the beacon of light leading to one's enlightenment.

But all she got were distracted eyes and a raspberry. A raspberry?! Two in one day. Despite her efforts to act nice towards the lesser ones, Carol huffed, primed to give those two a stern talking-to. Lori, however, strolled away, Leni following behind with her limp arm. And Carol, despite her pent-up energy...just...watched them get away. No shouting, no fingers, nothing. It was a long, lonely silence watching the two roll off in the sunset.

Only after they had left did Carol turn back to the bulletin board. She realized that she was the only person left in the empty hallway; no one even had to use the bathroom this time of day. Didn't they all want to see the golden girl have her big moment? Did anyone want to see her?

Carol sighed. It sure felt lonely at the top. Meekly approaching the bulletin board, her eyes quickly pinpointed her name, written in bold black print letters, sandwiched between the other students that met the criteria. Nothing had changed since the last time she saw that familiar name the day before. And yet, it didn't have the packed joy she had hoped for. Her heart sunk to her trembling feet.

Everything she went through today. The lukewarm reception, the humiliation, the posturing. Was this loneliness and yuckiness really as foreign as she thought it was. The purse she had, the lipstick, the phone. Did anyone really care about it? And even now, as she turned to the massive bulletin board. Who was there to celebrate with her? Pouring through her memory, it was hard for her young mind to accept. Maybe she was making this up in the midst of her guilt.

Carol was a good girl, she proclaimed. So then, why, after all she had endured, was she standing here all by herself with no one to cheer for her?