Silver Tides (Silver Tides Series) (14 page)

Tamara was moving her food around her plate without ingesting a morsel, when suddenly she picked up her plate of chips and gravy and tipped it straight onto Miranda's head.

The whole cafeteria stopped to stare at the coup unfolding at our table.

"I'm adopted, Miranda!" Tamara announced. "Does that mean my parents hate me? My dad died, and it was all too much for my mum, so she gave me to people who could raise me; in my reasoning that's pretty darn courageous! You know nothing about Mya’s situation, and you posted those documents. I don't want to eat lunch with you anymore."

Tamara picked up her tray and stormed out. Jaimie, Tim, and Tammy rose quickly and followed her without even glancing at Miranda. I was so surprised that Daniel had to turn me around to follow them.

"There's a table under the trees we can sit outside away from the noise," Daniel informed everyone. We left Miranda and Julia glaring at me; a warning that I would pay for everyone’s disloyalty.

loyalty

Lunch under the trees was more pleasant than any of the lunches I’d ever had at Geelong high school. Before the bell heralded the end of lunch, Tamara and I were summoned to the principal's office.

"That cow ratted us out." Tamara flipped her hair in frustration as we walked down the silent hallway. A few hipsters loitered in the hall, avoiding the loud cafeteria war room, opting for a more humane lunch experience.

"We'll tell Dr. McKlintock the truth." I shrugged nonchalantly.

Tamara looked at me incredulous. "You've never been to the principal’s office, have you?
"

I shook my head.

“Well, the best strategy is to claim you had a hormonal surge due to your period,” Tamara instructed. “Dr. Kock’s not married, has no experience with women whatsoever,
and periods totally freak him out. If all else fails, cry and apologize.”

“You call him Dr. Kock?” I laughed.

“How long have you been at Gee-bong high?” she asked, using the nickname we had pinned on the school.

“Only since I saved Daniel, according to Miranda,” I said, feeling defeated.

Tamara pulled me to a stop. “Miranda is a total biaatch; don’t worry about her. If you want to rule this school, you need to stop being so… nice.”

“I’m nice—it’s who I am.” I shrugged. “You can totally rule the school; I’m so not interested.”

Tamara studied me like mold on a sandwich she’d just taken a bite of. “Mya, don’t make me regret defecting from Miranda.”

“I’ll try not to,” I replied unconvincingly.

Tamara softened. “I’m sorry about the way you found out about the adoption. My parents have told me my whole life that I’m the baby they chose. My biological mum is part of my life here and there, but my adopted parents are my family. It’s nurture over nature for me.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. “I appreciated you sticking up for me.”

Tamara shrugged dismissively. “You’re a regular ray of sunshine.”

“I try.” I smiled, knowing that I was growing on her.

Tamara pushed the office door open for me to enter first. I avoided the office as much as possible; the receptionist was decidedly the scariest person in our state. She wore a big salt-and-pepper bun rolled on top of her head and glasses that overshadowed her face, but it was her breath that could kill an ogre. Due to her increasing deafness, she moved super close to talk to students; she would cackle at the end of every sentence. If mermen existed, the receptionist was transitioning into a child-eating witch.

“Take a seat, ladies,” the receptionist cackled.

The office’s theme was mismatched through the ages; a row of lime plastic seats lined the window across from the receptionist’s desk that was a shade of peach discontinued in the 80s, all sitting on an electric blue carpet that should have come with a seizure warning.

A few moments later Dr. Kock emerged from his office looking flustered. Tamara gave me a knowing nod; everything about his demeanor screamed that he hated working with teenage girls.

“Miss Belan, Miss Murdoch, please come in,” the principal stated.

Miranda was sitting on our side of the principal’s desk. Dr. Kock retreated to the other side of his huge wooden desk, creating a natural barrier between us. He looked only slightly less disconcerted in the safety of his padded faux leather chair.

“Miss Steven’s informed me that you assaulted her at lunch today,” Dr. Kock addressed me.

“Assaulted?” I asked, completely confounded.

“You threw a plate of food over me,” Miranda accused.

“You are unbelievable,” I muttered.

Miranda was giving Tamara a chance to change allegiance, to choose her over me and have me punished for Tamara’s actions. I could have disagreed, but I wanted Tamara to make her choice.

"Please address me, ladies, and not each other," Dr. Kock reprimanded.

“That’s not what happened,” Tamara said levelly, breaking her own rules of principal engagement.

“Well, fill me in,” Dr. Kock instructed, looking under-whelmed before Tamara even started.

"Earlier today I watched Miranda post Mya's adoption papers on the school website," Tamara admitted.

"Why would you do that?" he asked bewildered, looking between Miranda and Tamara.

Miranda folded her arms angrily over her chest, her mouth clamped shut, planning how to take both Tamara and me out.

"Miranda's jealous of all the attention Mya's been getting lately," Tamara replied, like it was obvious. "Anyway, I didn't realize that Mya didn't know she was adopted. Then Miranda started saying mean things about adopted people and I'm adopted ... I've got my period and I'm all hormonal ... I lost control and threw my food over Miranda's head." Tamara looked so pathetic that I felt sorry for her, despite the big act she was putting on.

Dr. Kock mulled over the story, like finding a fish bone in his mouth from lunch. "So you were aggravated?"

"Most certainly," Tamara agreed.

"Miss Belan?" he asked for my input.

"That's how it happened, sir," I affirmed, warmed by Tamara’s loyalty.

Tamara sniggered at my respectful demeanor.

"Miss Stevens..." the principal began but was interrupted by a commotion in the office.

The door swung open and a tall rotund bellied man with chocolate hair and eyes the same shade as Miranda's swept into the room. Sweat beaded on his forehead with the exertion of carrying his frustration, and his breath came in short puffs from having out maneuvered the receptionist.

"Miranda Theo Stevens," he barked, "what were you thinking?"

"Daddy, let me explain," Miranda wheedled, rising to her feet.

"I don't want to hear it, Miranda!" he snapped, "You! McKlintock, you give the kids access to the school site!"

"It's supposed to help build school pride," Dr. Kock stuttered, reminding me of a bug crushed under a microscope.

"Do any adults monitor it?" Miranda's dad asked without waiting for an answer. "As far as I can see, it's just a forum for bullying, and my daughter seems to have the corner market on bullying."

"I'll have the IT teacher look at it," Dr. Kock said, but Miranda's dad was already moving on.

"Do you know what you've done, Miranda?" Mr. Stevens ranted, fixing his amethyst eyes on his daughter. "You revealed court sealed documents. I can be sued for perjury and lose my license to practice law! The Esso’s lawyers want to see me destroyed; we could lose EVERYTHING! Why would you do this?"

Miranda snapped, pointing at me. "She is a poor, fat, ugly troll, and she tricked Daniel Esso into dating her. I was trying to show him the truth, that not even her parents wanted her."

Mr. Stevens turned scarlet with rage. "This is about some schoolgirl crush!"

"It's Daniel Esso!" Miranda defended.

"I don't care if it's Prince Harry! You've destroyed our lives," he yelled.

In the face of a family meltdown Dr. Kock looked ready to crawl under his desk.

"This is your fault!" Miranda screamed, lunging at me. Miranda knocked me to the ground and perched on top of me, punching hard. For a moment time froze; Miranda’s hatred rained down on me in the form of punches. I put my arms up to protect my face. I could see her seething hatred, and there was something else—fear. She ranted about me being poor, fat, and ugly, and I got the glamour guy. Miranda was afraid that everything she knew and worked for was slipping away, which it was. Instead of embracing what was different, she wanted to destroy me. I felt sorry for her; she had always been given everything, and I had the one thing she couldn’t have, Daniel’s affection.

It took both Miranda’s dad and Dr. Kock to pull Miranda off me.

Mr. Stevens grabbed the back of Miranda’s school dress and held onto her.

“What is wrong with you!” he screeched.

In the face of her father’s fury Miranda finally stopped fighting.

“You’re adding assault to the other charges against you,” Mr. Stevens snapped at Miranda.

Tamara helped me up off the ground. “Are you OK?” she asked, before glaring at Miranda like a speck of sauce on her white cashmere sweater.

“I’m OK.” I sighed, letting Tamara push a tissue to my bleeding lip.

“You’re so not OK,” Tamara disagreed. “I’m driving you home.”

Dr. Kock looked ready to disagree, until Tamara asked, “Unless Dr. McKlintock is going to take you home.”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll let your teachers know,” Dr. Kock replied, scuttling behind his desk, away from the estrogen festival.

My eye was throbbing and closing up fast. I was surprised by how many hits Miranda must have got in to make my face feel so numb.

Tamara put her arm around my shoulders and ushered me out of the office and straight into the disabled toilet.

“Wash your face,” she ordered, taking charge.

“Shouldn’t we just go straight home?” I asked. I felt like slumping against the wall but the take-charge Tamara was too intimidating, so I washed my face.

“You look like a whimpering kitten,” Tamara said. “You can’t be seen in public like this.”

I examined my face in the chipped mirror; my cheeks were rosy from being struck,
my
right eye was swelling, and my lip was bleeding from a crack. I tried to console myself that it would heal until I realized that I would be returning the second day of term two looking like an ink pad accident.

"That Miranda can throw a punch," I said, turning my face from side to side in the mirror.

"She takes boxing classes to stay fit." Tamara shrugged, unfazed.

"Seems to be working for her," I said before plunging my face under the running tap.

The water felt like a million tiny knives stabbing my sore face. I stood quickly, the pain triggering the emotions that I’d been trying to suppress all day. I felt all the nervous tension from the day bubbling over, and I began to laugh and cry simultaneously.

The bell to end lunch rang and students flooded the halls. Tamara locked the toilet door to ensure my privacy as I had a minor meltdown.

"I'm sorry," she said, awkwardly rubbing my back in an effort to offer comfort.

"It's been an intense day," I giggled, tears rolling down my cheeks.

"You know Miranda's parents are on the brink of divorce," Tamara offered, slyly.

"That's horrible; poor Miranda," I sobbed.

Tamara slapped her palm against her forehead, exasperated. “Try to be meaner,” she instructed. “High school will eat you alive if you don’t.”

“Seems that advice might be a tad late, considering we’re graduating at the end of the year,” I sniffled.

“Right,” Tamara offered a tight smile.

When the sobbing subsided Tamara left my side and stuck her head out the toilet door like a spy; I noticed that the shuffling and yelling had quieted.

“Wipe your eyes and let’s go,” she said, ushering me into the abandoned hall. “We’ll grab your bag from your locker and go home.”

The halls had become unearthly quiet, signaling the beginning of class. It felt wrong being in the halls during class, but I was glad for the privacy. I followed Tamara, keeping my head down in case anyone saw the bruises coming up on my face.

“Keep your head up,” Tamara ordered. “You’re the most popular girl in school. You don’t slink through the halls trying to be invisible.”

“What about my face,” I objected, not wanting to be the most popular girl in school. Yet my actions over the lunch table had brought about the power change. I didn’t want Miranda torturing Jaimie or the others anymore, which meant I had to step up and take control. Listening to Tamara was my best bet for keeping my friends safe.

“Proof that Miranda is crazy,” Tamara replied matter-of-factly. “Stop shuffling; you own this school. You strut.”