45. Mean (2/1/21)

The auditorium was filling up with people. Mr. Johnson, the principal, was trying to usher everyone in, but the second bell was already going off, and I had a feeling we would be penalized for not being able to sit down in an orderly fashion. It happened every month, when they called the seniors in for a homeroom meeting, and Rachel, the class president, announced the next dance or social event.

I sat alone in the fourth row. Two seats down, a few girls were gossiping and laughing. They were Rachel's best friends. I doubt they even knew my name. The one girl glanced at me out of the corner of her eye before returning to the conversation. In response, I slung my backpack off and plopped it down on the floor in front of me.

Right on cue, Mr. Johnson clapped his hands, calling attention to himself. "You'll be heading to college soon, ladies and gentlemen. I expect you all know how to come in here and take a seat? We do it often enough."

Some guys chuckled in the back rows, which caused the vein in Mr. Johnson's forehead to pulsate as he stormed down the aisle towards them. Once the auditorium was quiet, the assistant principals came onstage and made a few announcements before introducing Rachel. The brunette strutted onstage, adjusting her jean skirt, before standing in front of the podium with a pearly white smile.

The boys on the football team, who had just been yelled at by Mr. Johnson, cheered for Rachel. She was dating the captain, if you liked to believe in those clichés. I glanced back at them and chuckled. Two seats down, Rachel's friends were clapping loudly.

"Thank you, everyone," she said into the microphone. She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder before continuing. "As you all know, there's only a few more months until graduation. The planning committee and I are hoping to announce the theme for the prom soon, but for right now, we wanted to share this month's event: a drive-in movie night!"

Everyone burst into applause. Even I had to admit it was a good idea. The football field was big enough, and was currently under-utilized since it was the middle of March.

"We're currently taking suggestions for movies, but they must be rated PG-13," Rachel told everyone with a smile. Her lips were painted red to match her sweater. "The event will take place at the end of the month. Tickets cost ten dollars, but that's only the entrance fee. If you want to buy concessions, they will cost extra."

Rachel wrapped up her speech and waved to the adoring crowd. I watched her go, returning to her seat in the front row. Mr. Johnson and the assistant principal returned to the stage to dismiss everyone, but I tuned them out; I was only staring at Rachel. It surprised me how popular she was and how everyone lost their minds at these monthly homeroom meetings. When I glanced around the auditorium, I noticed some of the less-popular groups did not seem thrilled about the news or Rachel. They understood the honest fact that Rachel was a mean girl, pulled directly from the movies.

The lights in the auditorium came up, and we were dismissed early. I made my way into the hallway and searched for my locker, but I was caught off-guard when one of the doors leading to the stage flew open.

"Oh my god!" I shrieked, much louder than I intended to.

The queen bee herself turned on her heels and stared me down. When it finally registered who I was, her face twisted into a grimace as she said, "Watch where you're going."

"I'm sorry," I muttered, trying to ignore the whole situation. I needed to stop by my locker before first period.

"You're Audrey, aren't you?" Rachel asked. When I stood a few feet away from her, I noticed how tall she was. She towered over me.

"Yeah," I replied. "We've been in class together since seventh grade."

"Well, sorry," Rachel said, emphasizing each syllable. "I guess I never noticed because of how lackluster you look."

The first part of that statement was incorrect; Rachel knew who I was because throwing insults my way was her favorite pastime. She had started doing it in seventh grade when her boyfriend at the time complimented my piece in art class. I tried to tell her after class that day that it was just a compliment, but she wasn't buying it.

"See you later, loser," Rachel called before strutting off in the opposite direction. I took my leave, digging through my locker until I found my science textbooks. The halls were so quiet you could hear a pin drop; I wondered for a moment where the other seniors were. Then I heard shouting from down the hall.

I stuck my head out and saw Rachel arguing with one of the English teachers, Mrs. Presley. The woman was bright red and had similar features to Rachel. With that and the context clues from the conversation, I could confirm that this woman was Rachel's mom, even though they had different last names.

"Are you serious, Rachel? That was the most embarrassing thing I've ever seen," Mrs. Presley yelled. "I'm disappointed in you. You'd think, as class president, that you'd be able to keep everyone under control."

Rachel was trying to speak up, but her mother was controlling the conversation. She ended it with one last sentiment: "Run along. You don't want to fail your math test like last time, right?"

I could see Rachel blushing before walking off down the hallway. Luckily, she didn't see me.

Many years passed, and my life was more successful than I had hoped. I studied pre-law my first four years of college before attending law school. Afterwards, I started my own firm, and it's one of the most successful firms in New York City.

On a chilly November morning, I sat at my desk in my office, looking through paperwork about upcoming cases. A knock came from the door, and my colleague, Phil, came walking in.

"We have the girls applying for the assistant positions in the lobby?" He said, glancing over his shoulder as if to reference where the girls were.

"Send the first one in," I replied with a smile. I shut the folder and returned to a drawer. When I glanced back up at the door, my jaw dropped to the floor. Standing in the doorway, wearing a red sweater, was Rachel.