The end of the BSC was not epic. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't even exciting.
It was only the four of us, in the end. By the time we all graduated eighth grade, the BSC was more of an afterthought. With so many members dropping out, the fire, the stupid fights over boys . . . we baby-sat less and less. We kept things up half-heartedly up until about six weeks into freshman year, when all four of us mutually decided to let the club go. We were simply too busy, and our clientele was dropping fast. High school brought more homework, more clubs, less time for life outside. Kristy was sad to let the club go, but she said she wanted to encourage Karen to start it back up when she's eleven or twelve.
As for its members? Some of us are still the same, some of us are completely different. Mallory came back from Riverbend to attend high school, and she and Jessi are dorking up the freshman the best they can. Mal still has frizzy red hair and big glasses, but at least her braces are gone. She dresses better, but still a little awkwardly. Jessi is still tall ("tall" being nice for "gawky") and thin, still dancing. They both seem to have a Harry Potter book in hand at all times. Personally, I find that creepy. I'll still read a Nancy Drew now and then, but I don't advertise it.
Kristy is almost exactly the same. Still short, still petite, still a tomboy. She dresses with a little more flair than she used to. Very little. She wears her hair loose a lot more, when she's in class. In gym and on the field it's right back into the ponytail. She's still as bossy as ever, and she's still willing to mow anybody down for her own benefit.
Mary Anne changed a bit. She's gotten into more gothic stuff. Romantic gothic stuff. Vampires in love and such. I don't understand the attraction, personally. She's always reading Anne Rice novels, and her bedroom walls are covered in posters of gothic fairies and stuff. All of it is very pretty, and it suits Mary Anne. She is quiet, dark, and happy. She wears a lot of dark colors and goes heavy on the black eyeliner, but she still looks like herself. She never got back together with Logan. Thank God.
Stacey? Is still Stacey. Still blonde and permed (though a much more relaxed perm these days) and still in pursuit of sophistication. Someone should tell her she's packed on a few pounds. (Do I sound bitter? Stacey can go to hell for all I care.)
Abby is exactly the same as in eighth grade. Same wild, curly hair, same bad jokes, same asthma attacks, still allergic to life. Abby remains neutral in the whole "popular" versus "Anti-Krist" war. I like Abby a lot. She's still a jock and she's still insane.
Dawn is still in California. Mary Anne still talks to her on the phone at least once a week. I still talk to her sometimes, too. Her latest kick is PETA, and she is constantly lecturing about animals - kept as pets, in zoos, in supermarkets . . . personally, I like cheeseburgers.
As for me? Well. I still suck at school, and at life in general. I still love junk food and art. I still get funny looks for the way I dress (for instance, yesterday I wore black slacks, a purple shirt button-up shirt with a large collar, a black mens tuxedo jacket I got at the thrift store, and a large purple felt hat that I had hot-glued some green feathers to. The pimp look. The teachers made me take the hat off in class.) Honestly the only things different in my life since eighth grade are the fact that I have fewer friends and that Janine is WAY off at Cal-Poly and I'm genuinely OK with that. I cut my hair off last year, all the way up to my shoulders. It's grown out again. My parents are promising me a car if I can manage a 3.0 GPA for at least one semester . . . I will not be getting a car this semester.
That's OK, though. Cokie drives a brand-new Escalade. She's spoiled. And she loves to give rides.
I couldn't really tell you if Cokie changed or not. I never really knew her, you know? I just didn't like her because . . . the BSC didn't like Cokie. That was that. Mary Anne disliked her because she was always chasing after Logan. Cokie managed to land Logan in ninth grade and could only tolerate him for three weeks. She and Mary Anne laugh about it now.
We're all Juniors at Stoneybrook High. Well, Mal and Jessi are Freshman, like I mentioned. Gratefully, it's easy to avoid Freshman, because anytime they see me they squeal and tell me how cool my random outfit is. Mary Anne says they always tell her how gorgeous she looks, and that they love the "dark arts." Cokie just tortures them. That's what Cokie does.
"Claud?"
Mary Anne's quiet, wispy voice drew me out of my memory lane haze. I blinked and realized that I'd been staring at Kristy. Mary Anne sat across from me, sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder. Her eyebrows knitted together. "You look . . . troubled."
"Just thinking about stuff." I replied nonchalantly. Mary Anne didn't like to talk about the old days much. It makes her sad. She likes to be happy. I leaned closer to her, picking up her necklace off her collarbone. "I love this!" I exclaimed. It was a silver dagger with a small blue stone in the handle.
"It's good luck." She said, blushing slightly. "I ordered it out of a catalog. You don't think it's too . . . violent?" She was very specific about her gothic love. Nonviolent. Yeah, vampires killed, but the ones she liked killed out of love or necessity. Not for sport. I adore Mary Anne.
"No." I shook my head. "Not at all. It's very pretty."
"Thanks." She said with a grin, poking at her salad. "So, English? Brave New World? What do you think?"
"It looks interesting." I admitted. It's hard to get me to really read the books we're assigned in English. Mary Anne had, naturally, loved our last assignment, Beowulf, so she'd helped me with the work.
I frowned, and glanced Kristy's way again. Freshman year, We'd had English together. We always sat next to each other, always discussed our work. Toward the end of the year, we'd gotten a big assignment. We had to choose a partner, pick a book from a list, and give a huge presentation-style report on it. I had been excited because, at the time, I was running a 'D' average in English, and I knew with Kristy's 'A+' brain I we'd ace the assignment and I'd get up to a 'C', maybe even a 'B'. I even picked out a great book, Fahrenheit 451, which seemed like it was the type of book that could get you a good grade . . . a book about books, how could we lose?
And then Kristy Thomas had stood up, walked over to Emily Bernstein, and asked her to be her partner. Didn't say a word to me why.
I guess it was silly of me to just assume we'd be partners. I'd been kind of okay with it, but when I'd asked her about it on the phone later, she'd had the nerve to tell me this. "Claud, look. I know this is hard for you to understand, but . . . Emily is very good in English. This project is a big part of our grade. With Emily, I'll ace it."
"And with me?" I'd asked. A stupid question.
"Well . . . I mean, come on, Claudia. You know you're not very smart. What do you care what kind of grade you get?"
That was the first time Kristy Thomas ever made me cry.
Mary Anne was looking worried again. I smiled thinly at her, and went back to my lunch.
Kristy had made Mary Anne cry lots of times. Mary Anne just cries a lot. But there was one time, not very long ago, When she'd made Mary Anne sob. I shivered a little, looking at my Happy Mary Anne, who liked to gorget the past. She hated to talk about what Kristy had done to her.