Harsh Lessons (27 page)

Ms Sorensen clapped her hands.  'I think this is a convenient point to break for lunch.  We'll do a little revision of the basics when we return, then try some intensity exercises, then some subtlety.'  She eyed Jane as the girl returned to her seat.  'Sometimes less is more: it's the tiny hints, barely detected, which make a performance most powerful.'

Oh, and my acting is unsubtle, too, she's saying
.  Leeth sighed.  The three girls she'd been sitting beside now stood up, and Leeth had to admire the black girl's face, and figure.  A full head taller than her, and every movement so elegant. 
She's almost as tall as James
, Leeth thought. 
It's because her legs are so long.  Her skin's perfect, too.  I wish my breasts were that size…

'Put your eyes back in their sockets, girl, this lady is reserved for the men only!'

'Huh?  I wasn't… I was just admiring you.  You're very beautiful.  Why are you being-  I mean, I was hoping we could be friends?'

'Oh yeah, girl, “friends.”  I bet.  I can just imagine the kind of thoughts rolling around in that lezz-ly little head o’ yours.'

'Lezz-?  I'm not a lesbian!  And what would it matter if I was, anyway?  I was just wishing my breasts were a bit bigger, more like yours.  And your skin is so lovely.  And you're so tall!'

The statuesque girl's perfect arches rose.  'Any other not-Lezzly thoughts you wanna share with us, freak?  Cause you're totally hammering that hetero shade,
Lezz
lie.'

'My name's not Leslie, it's
Jane.
  Jane
Baker.'

'Uh-uh, no, don't think so.'  Tara made a show of looking around.  'I don't see no Tarzan swinging in from the trees.  Reckon you's confused, Lezlie.'

With a contemptuous toss of her head and her long, curly black locks, the tall girl and her entourage pushed past her.

'See ya,
Lezlie,
' the two shorter but equally beautiful girls chorused, finger waving as they sashayed out.

Leeth followed the other students to a large room, its wood-paneled walls crowded with posters from movies and various movie stars – all autographed.   Natural sunlight flooded through the large windows in the far wall, the air rich with aromas that made her stomach clench in anticipation, grumbling again.

Tara, Ava, and Beth, carrying food-laden trays – how'd they gotten their meals so fast? – strutted across the room to a table in the center and stared down at a neatly-dressed girl there with short brown curly hair.  The other sounds flooding the room faded out as Leeth
focused
on the group of girls and moved closer.

'There's a mouse at our table.  Scurry away, Mousie, before the cats unsheathe their claws.  Mreow!'  Tara made a silly gesture with her curled fingers, and Leeth felt her own fingertips tingle in response.

The smaller girl's lips set, but she just picked up her things and moved away.

'Good Mousie.  Scamper, scamper, off you go!'

'It's Marcie,' the girl said, but so quietly, only Leeth heard it. 
Coward
, she thought.

But as the girl passed by and their eyes met, Leeth saw the anger simmering there.  The girl's eyes swept from her face, to her chest, to her skirt and legs, then back up to her face.  Marcie's eyes narrowed and she moved on, disappearing into a corner.

Tara, Ava, and Beth were chattering brightly away, a fourth place at their table vacant.  Leeth clenched her jaw and went over there.  As she put one hand on the back of the seat, conversation in the room seemed to drop.

'What are you doing, Lezlie?' asked Tara.

'It's Jane, and I'm sitting down for lunch.  Look, I thought-'

'That seat's taken.'

'No it's not, it's right here.'

'No, retard, it's taken. It's reserved.'

'For who?'

'For anyone except you, Thunder-thighs,' Tara snapped.

'What do- huh?  Thunder thighs?  What's that supposed to mean?'

'You crack walnuts with those thighs?  I guess you need them well-muscled so you can trap your lez-victims.'

'What-?  I've only ever had sex with men.'

Tara rolled her eyes in disbelief.

'And there's nothing wrong with my thighs!'

'Yeah.  Thass true.  Nothing wrong – for a Tyrannosaurus.'

The other two girls snickered, as did some of the people at nearby tables,

One strike into the larynx
… but apparently, normal girls didn't fight to the death.  For some dumb reason.

'What's with the death-stare, Lezlie?  Imagining crushing me between those thighs?  Bet you be dreaming about me tonight, yeah?  Or, you roam the night with your invisible bow and arrows, having psychotic episodes?'

Leeth pulled out the chair and sat down, beside the buxom blonde girl, Beth, then smiled directly across the table at her tormentor.  'I know there's nothing wrong with my legs, since I had a car full of soldiers drive off the road once ’coz they were looking at them.'

'Or they was drunk.'

Leeth wanted to snap a reply, but she'd possibly already said too much.

Tara sniffed the air.  'Ava, where is that stench of cheap perfume coming from?  Beth,
please
tell me you haven't slipped in a puddle of Walmart Jasmine Star.'

Could Tara
really
recognize the smell, just like that?  Leeth
was
wearing Jasmine Star, and Emma
had
wrinkled her nose…

Beth sniffed.  'Why, Tara, I think it's coming from my right.'

All three girls looked at Leeth.

'We'd better leave – the stink of eau de cheap's gonna ruin my mango salsa salmon.'  Picking up their trays, noses twitching, the three girls stood, swaying across the room to a table by the large windows.  Then glared down at the two girls already seated there.

'Move, peasants,' Tara ordered, and for some reason the two hunched their shoulders, picked up their own trays of food, and quietly left.

Tara and her two minions were already chattering as they seated themselves.  Once again, the fourth seat at their table was vacant.  Leeth clenched her jaw, stood up, and took a step that way.

Across the room, Tara watched her, a smile tugging at her lips.

She wants me to try again.
  So she can do it all over again? 
She's probably even thought up some more insults.

Instead, Leeth stopped, met Tara's eyes, and pictured herself sliding her hand into that imposing chest, slicing her heart free and pulling it back out.  She'd put it down on the table right in front of the three of them, then just walk away.

Smiling with lazy pleasure at the image, she turned away.  And saw everyone was – once again – looking at her. 
Just great
.  Except, in a darker corner, face lit faintly by a screen's flow, the cowardly girl shifted her things.  For a moment, Leeth saw a familiar cartoon face in the montage of images on the girl's handbag. 
That was Sleena!

She watched as the girl looked back to her backlit paper screen and resume reading

She'd looked angry, before. 
And
there were three empty seats at her table.  Still smiling, still ignoring Tara and her shadows, Leeth wove a path between the tables and headed for the darker corner.  Yeah, that was definitely Sleena, the pixie warrior!  The cartoon heroine was part of a whole collection of images of lots of her favorite characters…
Oh!  She's got
HyperGirl, too!

Her thighs bumped the girl's table, and she stopped as the girl looked up.

'What.'

It wasn't a question.

'I was just noticing the pictures on your bag, and saw Sleena the dark pix-'

'And you thought “I'll go and diss Marcie: that'll show the Power Princesses I'm one of them,” right?'  Marcie leaned back, the anger once again clear in her eyes, but with a beaten-down look riding alongside it.  'Do your worst, but something tells me you're not in Terrible Tara's league.'

Leeth blinked.  'Uh, no.  I was actually gonna say I loved Sleena.  I mean, when I was little.'

'Really.'

Leeth looked up and away, smiling.  'You remember that time the giant slug thing was about to chew through the Flower Palace, and Sleena fanged him right in his eyeball-on-a-stalk?  That was so cool.'

Marcie's lips twitched.  'Yeah, it was kinda “cool.”  But gross.'  She paused, waiting for the hidden knife to come stabbing out.  Tentatively she added, 'I liked Hyper Girl and Argon best.'  She twitched her bag so the blonde superheroine's face was uppermost, then touched it to zoom it larger, revealing Argon by her side.  Ever-faithful.  'I used to imagine what it'd be like to have adventures with my own cyborg wardog, patrolling our neighborhood lasering all the bullies.'  She smiled, looking back up and across into the new student's eyes.  'Jane?  What's the matter?'

Her possible-new-friend's lips were pressed firmly together, and she was blinking rapidly.  She shook her head.  'Nothing.  I was just remembering
my
dog.  Faith.'  Her blinking sped up.  'I had to leave her, back at the, back on the farm.'

Marcie reached out a hand and took Leeth's.  'That's rough, kiddo.  And all this – it must be like starting high school all over again, yeah?  And with Terrible Tara wielding her magical mind-controlling charisma over males and females alike.  That and her lips that lash, and wit that wounds.  I swear, it's like she has a sixth sense for your Kryptonite zones.'

'Uh, yeah.  Crypt tonight zones.'

Marcie looked at her oddly.  'You
do
know who I'm talking about, right?'

'Uh, sure.  That girl who, you know, with the vampires….'

Marcie shook her head.  'Hey!  You wanna see the very first superhero ever?'  At Jane's eager nod, she accessed her Link, projecting an image onto the table after placing her bag to hide the picture from the people nearby.

'Mmm.  Niiice.  I like the little curl of hair.'  Leeth admired the muscles.  'But why are his underpants on the outside?  Does the big "S" stand for Stupid?'

'It stands for hope.'

'Hope?'

'Yeah, he kinda, well… I guess he kinda gave people hope that no matter how much evil there was in the world, no matter how powerful it seemed, it could never destroy hope. Hope is indestructible – just like Superman.’  She shrugged.  'But yeah, maybe people were kinda lame back then.'

The moment was interrupted by Jane's stomach, and both girls giggled, while Marcie withdrew her hand.

Leeth looked around.  'Where's the food dispenser?'

Marcie smiled.  'The school has a reputation to maintain.  We have a chef.'  A small chime sounded from her hand.  'That'll be my order.'  She slipped off the chunky ring on her right hand, now projecting a multi-colored rectangle onto the table.  'Scan that QR code for the link, and you'll see the menu.  The ’bol is nice.'  Marcie stood up.

Boll?  QR code?
 
What the…? 
Why didn't Uncle or Emma teach me any of this stuff?

The blue question mark, though, answered all her questions – “Do you mean, spaghetti bolognese?” – and her stomach growled again as she skimmed the menu.  But it was only as Marcie returned from the counter across the room with her tray, that Leeth realized she'd better keep her special Nelson-glasses secret. Hurriedly, she scanned the square pattern of colored dots with her wristlink, and activated its projector.

Marcie set down her tray, bumping the sauce bottle she'd set near the edge of the table.  It had hardly started to topple before Leeth was across the table, her hand around its neck and righting it.

'Whoah!  Nice reflexes, Jane!'

Leeth froze, mortified. 
Not special, dope!
  She wanted to bang her head against the table. 
Think before you act!

'That was a compliment, babe.'  Marcie shook her head.  'You are one weird chica, you know.'

Leeth felt her eyes widen.

'
Now
what'd I say?  Come on, all of us are weird, right?'

Leeth blinked.  'We are?'

'Sure,' Marcie grinned.  'Some people don't like Sleena!'

Jane smiled back, weakly, as Marcie picked her ring up from the table and slid it back on, tapping its projection off.  Her meal did look good… and smelled better.  The aroma decided Leeth: the “bol” and a nice rare steak.  Selecting both with her fingertip, she tapped the Pay button and heard her credstick chime.

'Uh, Jane, I think you just ordered two lunches by mistake.'

Not this again!
  Briefly, Leeth considered agreeing….
  No!  I'm
not
going to spend weeks here, starving to death every day!
  'Uh, I have a metabolic condition.  I have to eat bigger meals.  At lunchtime.'

Marcie looked doubtful, but said nothing.  Instead, she picked up a shaker and sprinkled a pale yellow powder all over her food.  When the smell hit her, Leeth reeled back in her chair in disgust as Marcie began some complicated twirling motion with her fork and the spaghetti.

Leeth watched, open-mouthed, as Marcie put it into her mouth.

'Mmm!'

O-kay.  Maybe I
do
need this “socialization training!”
'What's that, um, strong-smelling powder?'

When Leeth returned with her lunch, sliding her bag to the side, Marcie looked puzzled by the sound the heavy brass padlock made when it fell over inside.  A little sheepishly, Leeth drew it out and passed it to her.

'Oh, wow, that must be, what, fifty years old?'  Marcie turned it over.  'I think this kind of lock was the first I ever learned to pick.  Dad used to use it lock the shed where he kept his power tools!'

Leeth wanted to ask about the power tools, but… 'What do you mean, the
first
kind of lock you learned to pick?  D'you mean you can pick this?'

'Sure!'  Marcie took a hairpin from her hair.

'Could you teach
me
how to pick it?'

'Sure.'

Leeth jumped up, spun around the table, and trapped Marcie in her chair with the hugest hug.  'You are the best!'

When they returned to the auditorium, Leeth sat with Marcie instead of the Princesses of Power.  The two of them were getting on so well, it wasn't until Ms Sorensen cleared her throat they realized the lesson had started.  Leeth heard Tara, across the room, make a stupid joke about the new Loser Club that had started.