The Diamonds (22 page)

Turbo snorted. “That shit was
wack.”

“I did my final report in that class on the history of
Broadway,”
said Boyd. “I don't suppose that's why I'm here?”

Tommy shook his head. “No. I'm talking about when this country was
founded
. Does the American Revolution ring a bell?”

Boyd thought for a moment. “I don't believe it does, Tommy.”

“What
about
the American Revolution?” Jed asked. “What does it have to do with our current situation?”

Tommy relished his moment in the spotlight. “Great question, Jed. Now, as all of you know—or
should
know—the American Revolution marks the time in our country's history when the thirteen colonies stood up to the British Empire and declared their independence.”

“Dude,” said Turbo. “Colonies are so crunked.”

“Uh, sure,” Tommy replied. “What's happening now at Bennington is just like what happened to our country in the past. Why should the Diamonds have the power to judge us, to create laws that
affect
us, when we have no actual
say
in those laws?”

“They shouldn't,” said Darcy. I noticed that her chin was trembling, and the top of her head was beginning to reveal her blond roots.

“The way I see it, we have two options,” Tommy said. “Let this go on until we graduate,
or
take a stand and fight for what we believe in.”

Boyd spoke up. “What
do
we believe in?”

Silence.

I took a deep breath. “We believe in fairness,” I said, “and we believe that everyone at Bennington has the right to make their own choices. The Diamonds are only powerful because we
let
them be. Each of you was chosen for a reason. I know that if we put our heads together, we can think of something.”

I wanted them to believe in me, in what I was saying, but mostly I wanted to believe it myself.

“So,” I said. “Who's with me?”

Nothing happened at first. And then, like a rocket, Jed's arm shot into the air, taking his entire body with it until he was standing taller than I'd seen him stand in weeks. “I am,” he said.

“Me too,” said Darcy.

Three, four, five, six—almost everyone stood like reversed dominos until we were gathered in a make-shift circle.

“The French were
quite
involved with the revolution, you know,” Monique said. “I feel a kindred spirit to my people. And you know what?”

“What?” I asked.

She smiled. “I kind of like eet.”

I glanced around the room. There was a small gap between Darcy and Turbo waiting to be filled by the only person who had yet to respond: Jenny.

“You're the missing link, Jenny,” I said. “We need you.”

“You don't need me.” There was a vulnerability in her voice that made me wonder just how much the
Diamonds had scarred her over the years. “You don't even like me.”

I took a step forward. “That's not true, Jenny. You're the only person in the entire school Clarissa is afraid of. You're cunning, smart, and very stubborn,” I said with a grin to show I wasn't trying to insult her. “Those are pretty necessary skills for a revolutionary. I don't expect you to forgive me in a single afternoon for what I did to you. I just want the chance to show you that I am truly sorry.”

Slowly, Jenny unwrapped her arms until they were dangling at her sides. “We need a name,” she said. “The colonists who fought for independence had a name. They called themselves patriots.”

It was a good point—one I hadn't even thought of.

Then, unexpectedly, Boyd said, “What about the Stonecutters? You know, since we're fighting against the Diamonds, and diamonds are gemstones, and they're, like, one of the hardest substances known to mankind. Ever.”

The Stonecutters. I loved it.

I looked at Boyd and smiled. Then I turned back to Jenny, who had inched her way into the circle. It was now complete.

“Kewl,” said Turbo.

Afterward, when everyone was leaving, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Jed.

“Can we talk?”

Anderson was still in the den with Jenny, ever the
artiste, and Boyd was relaxing on the couch (by that, I mean lying down with his legs spread wide open). Darcy was nowhere to be found.

“Okay,” I said, leading Jed up the narrow hallway and upstairs, into the only room in the house I knew I was allowed in. Anderson's bedroom.

Jed was sitting at Anderson's desk, while I was on his bed with my back against the wall, feet dangling off the side. It was strange, being in my current boyfriend's room while talking—or
not
talking, as the case might be—to my ex-boyfriend.

Let me remind you that Jed was never much of a chatterbox. At least, not about anything that actually
mattered
(otherwise known as Feelings).

“What do you want?” I asked.

He supplied a constipated grimace. “We haven't had a chance to talk properly since, well, you know, and I simply thought—”

“Either say something or don't. But whatever you do say,
mean
it.”

Jed ran his fingers through his hair and let loose the top button of his collar. He had changed. I could tell from the thinness of his cheeks and the ever-so-sparse stubble around his jaw.

“I never cheated on you with Darcy,” he said. “Not in the way you think.”

“What do you—”

Jed put up his hand. “Let me explain, okay? Then you can ask me whatever you want and I promise to tell you the absolute truth.” He waited, then continued. “The last week in August, Clarissa stopped by my house. I was surprised, but I figured she wanted to chat with me about you. I was wrong.” Jed looked at me sadly. “One night, over the summer, I ran into Darcy at the Burger Shack. It was a complete coincidence. You know she isn't the type of girl I would normally …
associate
with, but we wound up sitting together and she was actually quite nice.

“It got late, and I walked her to her car. I went to give her a friendly hug, and she kissed me. Out of nowhere. I stopped her and explained I was seeing someone,
you
, but even if I wasn't, I would
never
be as presumptuous as to kiss a girl without asking first. When we weren't even on a date. I told her she should be ashamed of herself, and I got in my car and left.”

I wasn't sure where Jed was going with this story, but it rang true. We'd been dating for weeks before he'd “officially” asked me out. I couldn't imagine him kissing a girl he barely knew.

“I thought about telling you, but really it was nothing, and I knew it would upset you. So I never mentioned it. When Clarissa came to my door, however, everything changed. She must have been at the Shack that night; God only knows how she managed to take a picture of Darcy's and my embrace—it couldn't have lasted longer than a few seconds!—but she did, and
she showed it to me. I was shocked. Everything about it screamed
‘Secret Love Affair!’
and I knew that if you ever saw it, you would be heartbroken.”

“So you dumped me on the morning announcements to spare my feelings? Great plan.”

Jed sighed. “Clarissa told me that if I didn't ‘dump’ you in that particular manner, not only would she show you the picture, but she would make sure that no one voted for me in the student government election.”

Whoa. I started to respond but felt the words tangle in my throat. Clarissa was behind this?
Clarissa
had orchestrated Jed's dumping me? Everything she'd done afterward—putting Jed on trial for his crimes, pretending to be a friend when really she was the worst of enemies—had been planned and plotted. One huge lie.

“You should've just
told
me,” I managed to get out. “If nothing happened, I would have believed you. Why didn't you trust me?”

“I made a mistake, Marni. I knew how much you valued Clarissa's friendship. I'd rather you hated me than discover she was a fraud. Besides,” he said, “it was my word against hers, and honestly, I thought you would believe her over me.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I expect Clarissa to put me on
trial
. And then, well, I was removed from office regardless. I was
still
going to tell you the truth. All of it. But then Anderson came into the picture, and despite everything, you seemed happy. So I kept my mouth shut,” he said.

“But you and Darcy …”

“We're good friends,” said Jed, swiveling in the chair. “Nothing more.”

I didn't know how to respond. For all these weeks I'd thought
I
was an awful person, a liar and a sneak who'd stabbed my best friend, Clarissa, in the back. I'd thought Jed was a cold, heartless cheater who deserved all the misfortune he'd received and then some.

It had never occurred to me that I might be mistaken.

“Now that you know the entire story,” Jed said, “do you have any idea why Clarissa would do that to you?”

I felt my stomach churn. “No,” I said. “Not really.”

“Listen, Marni. I want to help you and Tommy. I want to do what's right.”

I couldn't help smiling. “You really
do
belong in politics, Jed.”

Even though his explanation didn't
change
anything, it was comforting to know that, deep down, Jed was still the person I'd once thought he was.

And maybe that was closure. Maybe that was enough.

All students have the right to keep the inside of their lockers private unless they are suspected of being a suspicious character (as determined solely by the Diamond Court).

—The Diamond Rules

You can't simply cut a diamond. It won't slice open with a knife or break apart with a hammer. That would be too easy. There is a skill to diamond cutting. Some might go as far as to call it a science. I'd call it an art.

Fact: The only tool that can separate a rough diamond into smaller pieces is another diamond.

This truth held strong for the Stonecutters. I might have no longer associated with Clarissa & Co., but they had been my best friends for years. I knew their strengths and their weaknesses. I was the perfect source of information; though at one point I would have kept my silence out of sheer loyalty, I didn't owe those girls anything. Not anymore. So once the Stonecutters were united in their goal to destroy the Diamonds and reinvent the social hierarchy at Bennington, I knew exactly where to begin.

“The first thing we need is a plan,” I said.

It was the Stonecutters’ second official meeting. Tommy had picked up one of those oversized Post-it boards on the way to Anderson's and was drawing on it with a black Sharpie. Boyd had taken a bag of Doritos hostage and was inhaling chip after chip while Monique braided her hair and Turbo played some kind of game on his cell phone.

Anderson walked into the den with an open can of Sprite. “Hey, babe,” he said before taking a sip. “What did you say about a plan?”

Tommy motioned to the board, where he began making bullet points. The two of us had brainstormed that morning in the technology room before school. “Principal Newman said there was nothing he could do without proof. So,” he said, smirking, “I propose we get him some.”