Having taken leave of the teen-aged George, Prunella decided to look for a class that would make less intense intellectual demands of her. Who better to guide her in her search than the high school principal? The office wasn't hard to find, and the principal, a grim-faced rabbit man with graying hair, was at his desk.

"Excuse me, sir," she said bashfully. "My name's Prunella Prufrock, and..."

"Come in, Prunella," said the principal, who, as it turned out, had a rather nice smile. "I just spoke with your mother an hour ago."

Feeling less anxious, the rat girl seated herself in one of the available chairs.

"I'm Principal Morrow," the rabbit man introduced himself. "I knew your sister when she attended here. When your mother told me you were cured of your memory problems, I didn't want to believe it. You may not be aware of it, but the entire community has been concerned about your condition. It's such a tragic thing to happen to a young girl."

"I was wondering, sir," said Prunella, "if you could point me in the direction of a class that isn't too hard for someone like me."

"Hmm," the principal pondered. "You could try art class. That's in room 15."

"Thank you, sir."

"If you need anything, let me know," said Mr. Morrow as Prunella walked out of his office.

Art class proved to be a serendipitous choice, as the first person she spied upon entering the classroom was an attractive monkey girl with flowing red hair--unmistakably Muffy Crosswire. She was covered in a long artist's smock, and her easel supported a partially complete watercolor of a seascape.

"Prunella!" exclaimed Muffy, laying down her wet brush.

"Hi, Muffy," said the rat girl. "Long time, no see."

It was a happy reunion, unlike the callous reception her other three friends had given her.

"You're cured?" Muffy marveled. "How?"

"Augusta's stone did it," Prunella explained. "I remember the last two days."

"So Augusta finally did something right," Muffy reflected. "I mean, besides marrying my old chauffeur."

"Tell me all about the last five years," Prunella urged her.

"Okay, but I hope this is the last time I have to."

Prunella watched Muffy's expression grow solemn.

"Crosswire Motors is barely hanging on. Dad had to sell two of his lots to competitors. Mom keeps telling him we'd be better off if he went into a different business, but he doesn't listen. He says he'll die before he gives it up."

"Then you're not rich anymore," Prunella mused.

"Not by any means," Muffy chuckled. "But I don't need money. I still have my good looks."

"Still dreaming of being a supermodel?"

"It won't be a dream for much longer," said Muffy confidently. "Several modeling schools have already contacted me."

"That's great."

"And I won't be one of those ditzy models, either," Muffy went on. "I'll stand for political causes. Like stem cell research."

"Stem cell research?" Prunella repeated. "Are you for or against?"

"Haven't decided."

The art teacher allowed Prunella to paint a little, and the class ended. "Come with me," said Muffy. "English is next. Fern and Beat are in my class."

Excitement and anticipation replaced the anxiety in the pit of Prunella's stomach. She had finally found a sympathetic friend.

"You've got a nice body," Muffy told her as they walked toward another classroom. "Maybe you should consider a modeling career."

They encountered Beat and Fern along the way. Beat had grown into a well-proportioned young woman; her brown hair had grown much longer, and was held in place by clips. Her dress and appearance were as conservative as Fern's were not. The poodle girl sported various facial piercings; her nails were painted black, and streaks of her fluffy hair were dyed black.

"Look, Fern," said Beat, pointing. "Prunella's here."

"Omigosh," said Fern to the rat girl. "I haven't seen you in ages. I thought you were dead."

"She's cured," Muffy informed the two girls. "She can remember things again."

"That's fantastic!" Beat exclaimed. "If it's true, I mean."

"I hope it is," Fern added. "But we've been here before."

"That's quite an outfit you've got," Prunella said to her.

"It's for a play," Fern explained. "I'm immersing myself in the part."

"Which play?"

"The Importance of Being Earnest."

Beat offered kind words to Prunella as the four girls made their way through the crowd. "Cured or not, I'm happy to see you again. It must be very odd, waking up every morning under the impression that you're in sixth grade, only to find that you're a fully developed teenager."

"You get all the hormones, all at once," Fern commented. "If you don't watch yourself, you'll end up sleeping with all the boys, like Sue."

Muffy sighed. "She was such a nice girl, until the day she realized she could have any boy she wanted."

"If there ever was a child in a teenager's body, it's her," Beat remarked.

"April wasn't like that at all," Fern reflected. "She was mature and responsible."

"Was?" said Prunella, startled.

"I'm talking about when she was in high school," Fern clarified. "She's not dead. She and Odette went to Columbia together."

The subject for English class was the plays of Eugene O'Neill, someone Prunella had never heard of.

----

Friday morning arrived. Since there were no dire threats to Earth or mysterious disappearances to talk about, everyone discussed the upcoming election that would decide Lakewood's first student body president.

"Who do you want, Van?" Buster asked the duck boy. "Arthur or Mickie?"

"Definitely Arthur," was Van's reply. "I don't like rich people very much. What about you?"

"Arthur," said Buster with certainty. "I don't want to be a girlie man."

"I think Muffy's the only kid in our class who might vote for Mickie," said Van. "I don't know about Zeke. He's living with the Chanels, but he doesn't seem to like it."

"How are things going with your parents?" Buster inquired.

"Not good," said the duck boy sadly. "My mom says she'll file for divorce as soon as she finds a good lawyer. It's funny. She found a good lawyer once, and she married him."

A moment later Muffy entered the classroom, holding a stack of leaflets which she proceeded to give out to all present. "Big party at Mickie's house next Friday," she announced. "The whole school is invited."

As she tried to hand one to Arthur, the boy glared at her in surprise. "What, you mean I'm invited too?"

"The whole school, Arthur," said Muffy impatiently. "She didn't make any exceptions."

Since Arthur appeared unwilling to accept an invitation, she moved on.

"Did you hear that?" Beat whispered to the aardvark boy. "She called it Mickie's house. I think that's the first time."

With the addition of the Belnap triplets, there were now fourteen students in Mrs. Krantz' class--boys Arthur, Buster, Binky, George, Van, and Zeke, and girls Muffy, Sue Ellen, Francine, Fern, Beat, Amy, Becky, and Cally.

Once first period let out, Arthur set out to find Mickie, as he had a challenge to hurl. It wasn't hard--all he needed to do was follow Muffy.

"Mickie," he called out. "I want a word with you."

"Uh-oh," said Muffy, who was handing the undistributed leaflets to her friend. "The gloves are off."

As she stepped to one side, Arthur confronted the smirking aardvark girl. "That was a clever stunt you pulled with the girlie man posters," he said firmly. "But it doesn't change the fact that your campaign is nothing but hot air. The kids want a president who can take a stand on the issues facing the school, and I intend to prove that I'm that kind of president and you're not, by holding a public debate."

"Okay," said the unruffled Mickie. "When and where?"

"Wednesday," Arthur declared. "In the auditorium. The auditorium that's not big enough to hold all the students--unlike your house."

"Sure," Mickie agreed.

Muffy gazed after Arthur as he marched in the direction of the principal's office. "He's taking this way too seriously," she remarked.

"Yes, he is," said Mickie. "What's there to debate?"

She imagined herself and Arthur standing behind microphones on the stage of the crowded auditorium, as the students bombarded them with questions.

"What, in your opinion, is the best episode of Bionic Bunny?" asked Buster.

"Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Henry Skreever Fan Club?" inquired Fern.

"Should I dye my hair green?" asked Binky.

Mickie's imaginary scenario faded. "It's just a pointless exercise," Muffy told her.

----

to be continued