---

Jacie went to extreme lengths to help a pretty girl struggling with her past. The result was an unexpected twist of fate.

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Battle of the Bangs
A Jacie Alexander Story

Copyright © 2018 Shauna J. Rousseau
All Rights Reserved.
All image originals sourced from Creative Commons.
All movie-related references made in this novel are trademarked by Paramount Pictures, Disney, Universal Pictures, Marvel, or DC. All other characters are completely fictitious and any similarities with actual persons are purely coincidental.
 
Continued from Barbie's Doll.

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Prologue

Daddy parks the car in a visitor’s spot and I look at the school with a feeling of impending doom.

My life has already changed forever—the Borg implants can like never be fully removed now. Like Seven-of-Nine, I will now always carry some of the implants, even if I try to dissimilate myself and go back to my old life.

A life that is getting ready to change even more over the next few hours—let alone the days, weeks, and months.

I sigh as I get out of the car, drawing on what residual energy I can from my peeps, and walk towards the front door…
 

---

 

 
Part One
I steel my resolve and take a deep breath. Momma takes my left arm and Daddy takes my right. Together, we walk up the steps to the front door of my looming prison.

Momma gives my arm a comforting squeeze as Daddy opens the door for us. She smiles at me and says, “It’ll be OK, Hon. I know this isn’t what you were expecting today to look like. I know this isn’t your ‘Plan A’. Sometimes we just have to punt in life and go with ‘Plan B’.”

I silently nod and scan the hallway for Klingons. The coast is clear—not a soul in sight. Klingon, Romulan, or other.

Together, we walk the hallway to the front office and Daddy leads us up to Ms. Sprout’s desk. He lightly knocks on the doorframe and she looks up and smiles, “Good morning, Alexanders!” She then looks straight at me and asks, “So, Jacie, is it now?”

I simply nod as I bite my lower lip. I’m still expecting a Klingon death squad at any moment—or worse.

What? The Borg can still die.

Anyway, Daddy says, “Good morning, Ginger. I think Penny is expecting us.”

I fight hard to keep my eyes in. Daddy’s on first-name basis with the powers-that-be in the school?

Ms. Sprout smiles and nods, “Yes, George. She’s expecting you. Just go on in.”

He says, “Thanks, Ginger.” And he leads us to the warden’s office, where I’ll be officially added to the prison rosters. A nameless Borg in a Klingon prison.

What? I have no idea if Klingon prisons can hold the Borg! That’s beside the point! I mean, like really!

Anyway, I still haven’t said a word and my ears perk up again when Momma says, “Yes, thank you, Ginger. You’re looking lovely, today, by the way.”

Ms. Sprout giggles and I pull back on Daddy’s arm as I attempt to turn around and chase my eyes that are quickly rolling down the hall—away from Ms. Blackthorn’s office. He continues to pull me tightly by my arm into the office, though, and I resign myself to just going in blind…

I guess my cursed Borg technology takes over and regenerates new eyes for me—ones that won’t fall out anymore—since I can very clearly see Ms. Blackthorn stand up and prissily shake Daddy’s hand, then give Momma an equally prissy hug.

I now know my new Borg eyes won’t easily fall out anymore, because they try—they really do…

She then looks at me and says, “Good morning, Ms. Alexander—Jacie, now, right? Not, … Chrissie?”

Again, I nod. My Borg technology hasn’t caught up enough to alleviate the parched cotton-mouth that I have.

What? No, it’s not cotton candy. Just plain old white cotton—baked dry and completely parched in the deserts of Tatooine…

What? No! Desert! Not dessert! Where is the fetish with cotton candy coming from? That’s last year’s fad!

Anyway, I nod and try and pull some moisture back into my mouth. I sort of croak in a cracked voice, “Yes, Ma’am. That was like sort of decided for me…”

She nods and replies, “Yes. Jacie, then. We’ll talk about that some more in a bit. For now, please have a seat and let’s talk. We need to plan how this will all unfold—and how we’ll ensure your safety.”

My eyes struggle hard, once again, to pop out—but are now seemingly stuck firmly in my head. I sweep my skirt and sit down on a chair between Momma and Daddy.

She continues, “Yes, we have zero tolerance on bullying and violence, as you’re well aware, and we have an all-inclusive transgender policy—albeit untested, since you’re our first—but I’m not naïve enough to think that alone will be enough to protect you from such evils.”

I sigh and nod. The bitter taste of blood floods my taste buds as I bite my inner lip a little too hard. Momma squeezes my hand and I ruefully run my tongue over the bloodied inside of my injured lip.

Ms. Blackthorn gives me a searching look and smiles, although somewhat awkwardly, “Look, Jacie, I know this wasn’t completely your choice—not even close. Your parents and I have talked quite a bit. The thing is, completely your choice—or not—it was, no, is your choice. You can still change your mind.”

I take a deep breath and feel a little moisture gather in my mouth. I think the Borg Queen is stoking my anger a bit, since my heart is beating harder—almost pounding— and I’m suddenly, well, pissed.”

What? Can the Borg get pissed? I guess so…

Anyway, I take a moment to calm my nerves and say, “You’re right, Ms. Blackthorn. It is my decision—one I had to like make under duress. My choice to even like make a choice was taken away from me. I had to choose. As for that choice, for better or worse, I’m going to like give this a try. I’ve talked to my shrin…, err, psychologists—and, yes, I’m like so screwed up, I need two—and we all agree that I need to like explore this. So, yes, I’m here as Jacie. And, yes, I’m like here to stay. At least, for now…”

She smiles. I mean she actually smiles, this time. She nods and replies, “Good for you, Hon. So, I’m not going to lie. This is going to be tough on you. Extremely tough under the best of circumstances. It’s also going to be at least as tough on us. You’re our first transgender student, believe it, or not. While there is a lot of media coverage on transgendered children, actual openly transitioning students are fairly rare. And, yes, I know you don’t consider yourself actually transgendered or in transition, but more in exploration. The thing is, for all intents and purposes, as far as we the school are concerned, you’re in transition. That is also what your doctors have attested to.”

She looks at us all sitting here and seems to think about something. She says, “It looks like we’re going to be here a bit. Forgive me for not asking sooner. Would you all like anything to drink? Jacie, you look like you could use something for that dry mouth?”

My eyes fight against their restraints again as I nod, “Ummm, Diet Pepsi, maybe—or, like some water?”

What? I thought I was covering my issues pretty well. She must have some Betazoid blood in her…

She nods and looks at Momma and Daddy, who both agree a cup of coffee would be great. Ms. Blackthorn goes out and talks to Ms. Sprout and then comes back in to retake her seat.

She says, “Coming right up! Now, where was I? Oh! Right… Difficulties… So, we need to officially consider you ‘in transition’ for the extra protections to kick in.” She takes a breath and continues, “As you already are aware, we have a comprehensive security camera presence in the school, but there are blind spots. They also don’t cover the restrooms—on purpose and for obvious reasons. You’ll be using the girl’s restroom, since you’re now officially attending as Jacie—a transgendered female; another ‘perk’ of your transitional status—so, you’ll really need to adopt the female habit of going in a group.”

I blush and awkwardly nod. I’m saved from responding by the clinking of a tray, though, as Ms. Sprout comes in with the drinks—a Diet for me and coffee for the three of them.

We all thank her and Ms. Blackthorn continues after taking a sip of the steaming, black coffee Ms. Sprout has poured her, “So, I’m aware that you have your ‘Circle’ that will be there to protect you. We’ve rearranged your schedule to make sure that you’re always in class with at least one of them. We’ve also rearranged seating, to have you sitting next to one. I do, however, expect that to be only for protection and not to giggle, gossip, or otherwise disturb the class. Am I understood?”

She gives me a pointed stare and I squirm in my seat, in spite of having done nothing wrong. I simply nod.

She shakes her head and retorts, “No, I need to hear you say you understand, Jacie.”

I sigh and take a sip of my Diet, then simply say in a low voice, “Yes, I understand, Ms. Blackthorn.”

She nods and takes another sip of coffee. I look out the sides of my eyes and see Momma and Daddy both just quietly sitting there, adding creamer and/or sugar and stirring their steaming coffee.

Ms. Blackthorn takes another sip of her coffee, obviously pensive, then continues, “Now, like I said I know you have your ‘Circle’ and we know that there is some level of support from other students, thanks to the social media feeds. We’ll come back to those in a minute.”

She takes another sip of steaming coffee, and continues, “At any rate, there is a level of support—and a ground-swell of opposition to the formerly popular jocks, as you call them. But, this is high school and, if one thing is utterly clear, it’s that popularity is a fickle thing and allegiances can and quickly do change. You can’t rely on your current status to maintain any sort of protections.”

Another sip, then she adds, “You’ll need to remain extremely vigilant and you’ll need to rely on tried and true friends to protect you. Obviously, the male members of your band should also fall into that category. You’ll need to walk a very fine line, though. I will not tolerate violence or bullying from either side. Am I clear on that?”

I nod and know she’s expecting a verbal acknowledgement, so I say, “Yes, Ma’am. But it’s like not fair when they can like fight the battle outside of school and it spills over. That’s the whole reason we’re like even here!”

What? I don’t know where that came from either. The Borg Queen still influencing my thoughts? She must be stoking me on.

Anyway, she smiles and says, “I told you we’d get to that. Now seems like the proper time to discuss it.”

Ms. Sprout comes in and refreshes the cups of coffee and Ms. Blackthorn continues, “So, the culprits that ‘outed’ you at the restaurant were engaging in bullying, plain and simple. You are correct that I don’t have any real leverage over what they do off-campus, but, I do have jurisdiction over what happens when using school resources. When they posted the videos to social media and those spilled over onto school feeds, they became culpable under school rules and regulations.”

She blows on her refreshed steaming coffee and grimaces as she takes a sip. She looks at me, her face completely serious, “Jacie, they will all face the consequences of their actions—at least in terms of what the school can do. I’ve also recommended that your parents seek further legal guidance on what to do outside of the school’s jurisdiction. That being said, taking action against them is a two-edged sword when it comes to you.”

My reinforced eyes actually make it outside their sockets, this time, but only for the briefest of moments. The Borg technology just immediately beams them back in.

I retort in an incredulous tone, “What? How? Like I didn’t do anything wrong!”

She nods, “No, Jacie, you didn’t. However, there will be a blame game. This is high school. It’s only slightly better than Kindergarten—although, still much better than Congress. Anyway, many that support the jocks, as you call them, are plain and simple homophobic bigots and will use the actions we take against them to their advantage. Again, we’ll keep a firm finger on the pulse of what’s going on—but, it will likely cost you some popularity points.”

I feel my eyes beam back in again after they make it all the way to Ms. Sprout’s desk from the explosion in my head.

What? The steam released from my head blew them that far! And, no, it wasn’t from pink cotton candy! What is it with you and that stuff?

I actually sputter, “Popularity points?!?” My frustration is clearly evident in my outburst. “Ms. Blackthorn, you seem to be like under the misconception that I give a damn about popularity!”

Daddy squeezes my arm tightly and Momma slaps my knee. She admonishes me, “Language, young lady! Apologize to Ms. Blackthorn, right this instant!”

I feel the blood rush to my face as I flush and I sigh, “I’m sorry, Ms. Blackthorn, but popularity is like the least of my worries. I wish I could just go back to like being invisible!”

She nods sagely, “Apology accepted, Jacie. The thing is, you aren’t invisible anymore. So, you do need to worry about your popularity status. That’s what will provide you with your best protection. If you’re in with the popular girls, then you’re behind a wall of protection stronger than even I can provide you. You’ve already benefited from that. The thing is, you’ve been protected by the pom-pom fortress up to now because the girls thought the jocks were picking on the poor, helpless friend of other popular girls. That solidified the support around you from all factions. This is a different issue, all-together. There are political issues here, both with a small and with a capital ‘P’—and that support may well splinter now.”

I sigh, “And that’s why this is all like so unfair!”

What? Of course, I’m whining! Wouldn’t you?!

Momma squeezes my knee and Daddy just harrumphs into his coffee.

---

 

 
An hour later, I’m sitting on the stage in the auditorium. I’m flanked by Cardassians, including my own parents who seem to have been taken over by them. Their knives are firmly embedded in my back. I look at the mix of Klingons, Romulans, and other scum gathering on the battlefield on the auditorium floor below us.

I can’t help but smile when my friends…

What? No not the scum! You know, P.S.T.K.!

Anyway, the band huddles in one section, front and center, and they wave up to me in a fully supportive gesture. I timidly wave back and curse the Borg Queen that won’t let me just transport out of here. It seems I’m a Borg soldier now—fighting a fight I didn’t sign up for.

Resistance is futile… And all that sh…

What? Language. Yeah… Right…

Anyway, the thing is, my Borg technology hasn’t adapted to this throng of enemies’ weapons.

I’m fully vulnerable to hits—even lethal ones. And there are several Klingons that have their disruptors pointed squarely at me. They’re a new type of weapon—set on ‘painful disintegration’. Nothing the Borg have had the chance to adapt to. So, I’m vulnerable.

What? I know I’ve said that! So, believe me, already!

Anyway, I sigh as Ms. Blackthorn, stands up and makes sure the knife she’s put in my back is still firmly seated, then she twists it hard as she goes to the microphone and speaks, “Quiet! Calm down! We’re here to set some things straight. We’re here to talk about Jacie Alexander’s role in this school.”

I groan as she twists the knife even further. I try to get up and run, but the Cardassians flanking me, a.k.a., my parents, twist their knives, as well, as they hold me in my seat.

Ms. Blackthorn continues, “Many of you know Jacie—formerly known as Jimmy. Many of you don’t—or didn’t before she gained infamy through social media. So, if not before, now you do. But, to be crystal clear, Ms. Alexander’s role here in school has not changed from that of Jimmy before—it’s that of any other student. Well, maybe it has changed a little, since Jacie’s is now that of any other female student. She will attend as a girl—with all rights, privileges, and responsibilities of that role. I know many of you don’t understand. Many of you may not agree with her choice. I don’t care. Ask her questions, if you have them. But know that I will not tolerate any sort of bullying.”

She looks around as there is a buzzing of voices—coming more loudly from the festering cesspool of garbage compactor scum, a.k.a., the jocks.

She continues, “In case there are some of you that aren’t from this planet and haven’t been paying attention to the social media feeds—or the school news—let me play you an example of what I will not tolerate.”

She digs the knife in deeper, this time with a brutal twist—nicking my spleen and causing massive internal bleeding—as she nods and the screen above and behind me springs to life with the video of my ‘outing’ at the Goddess.

I simply want to die. I would welcome those painful disruptors disintegrating me, right now. The pain of that evening comes rushing back and I start to see black as the blood rushes out the mortal injury she has inflicted on me with her knife.

The video comes to an end and Ms. Blackthorn calls me to the microphone before the transporter can fully beam me into deep, dark space without a suit—where I can die in peace.

I stumble, literally, to the microphone and blush at the snickering coming from the cesspool.

Ms. Blackthorn takes my hand and says into the microphone, “Let’s be clear. This is cruel and unusual punishment. Not only through the fact that this video exists—or the situation portrayed in the video, for that matter—but, also through the fact that Jacie here has to relive the evidence, again. And relive it in front of all of you.”

She delivers a pregnant pause, then looks straight at me and inquires, “But, I have to ask you, Jacie, can you identify the individuals that were a party to this?”

What? Where did this come from? Like, huh?

I feel the black curtain start to descend as I begin to beam out into space, but then hear a harsh whisper from behind me as Momma hisses, “Jacie! Focus!”

I take a deep breath and say in a barely audible whisper as the curtain recedes, “Yes, Ma’am. Greg Chapman like was the one that convinced Mr. Apollo to let him speak at the Goddess. Mr. Apollo like had no idea what Greg was up to, though. Brad Fleming and Chad Little were the others there that night and like the ones that made the video. I don’t like know who posted it, though.”

Ms. Blackthorn nods and says, “Thank you, Jacie. Now, since the video made its way to the school news site, thanks to the excellent exposé of bullying by our intrepid school reporter, Louise Lane, this has officially become evidence in a case of school bullying. Along with this video, that includes any commentary made on our site—or any that is cross-linked to other feeds from it. We are currently combing through those. Any remarks that can be considered as bullying will result in the appropriate consequences.”

There’s a stunned silence in the auditorium. I’m silenced, along with the scum on the floor. Actually, I think I’m on the floor.

What? No! Not on the floor with the scum—on the floor of the stage! Pay attention, will you?

Anyway, I’m further floored when she continues, “Did I make myself clear, earlier, that we will tolerate no bullying? Mister Chapman, we will talk later, but consider yourself expelled from this school—effective immediately.”

The silence becomes deafening.

She pounds on, “Mister Fleming—it was your account that posted the video. You will join Mister Chapman in his expulsion. Mister Little, you were clearly complicit in this whole ordeal, but there is no clear evidence that you actively engaged in the bullying, so you will begin an immediate four-week suspension, since there is also no evidence that you actively opposed it. That makes you at the very least an accessory to the crime.”

The silence becomes even more deafening. I feel light-headed. I’m floating in space… I’m just not sure if I have a space-suit on. I look down at Jillie and feel the secure and very comforting tug of her tether as she smiles at me.

Ms. Blackthorn continues to pound, “Mr. Thorn and Ms. Sage, you will join Mr. Little in a suspension—effective immediately, you’re both on a three-week one for inflammatory, derogatory, and bullying remarks we have identified. I’m sure there will be more to come.”

The silence begins to break as people begin to realize that this is bigger than just the cesspool. It’s expanding to the pond-scum. No one is safe, including the Harry Mudds of the school…

Ms. Blackthorn lobs the last anti-matter grenade, “Like I said, we continue to look through the posts for other infractions. I can only advise those that have stepped on Ms. Alexander here to seek immediate legal advice, since I have advised her parents to do the same—to seek prosecution of those individuals for their involvement in hate crimes. And we have made permanent copies of all feeds, so any attempt to delete any posts will be a futile effort.”

The buzzing becomes very loud.

She continues to spray them with anti-matter bombs, “Now, I would like the named individuals to come to the front office to receive official notification of their sentences. I expect everyone else to quietly return to class—including our newest student, Jacie Alexander. Please welcome her to our fold!”

She loudly claps and there is a very mixed reaction from the stunned ‘floor’. Many clap and cheer—just as many seem very…worried. Oh, and openly hostile.

The Dominion is alive and well.

This solitary Borg soldier is certainly in trouble.

Then, the Circle rushes up and hugs me. And the guys from the band circle the Circle and glare at anyone that gives me an odd look.

Momma hugs me and Daddy…does, too.

I try and fix my jaw—it breaks when my lower one hits the floor when he hugs me.

Fortunately, I’m Borg…

What? No! I’m not proud of that! But, it can come in handy when you like suddenly need new body parts…

---

 

 
I sit at the Circle’s table at lunch. Well, I guess, technically, it’s more of a ‘P.S.T.K.’ table, now…

Our lunch period started directly after the impromptu assembly.

What? Of course, I’m still in total shock! What did you think?

Jillie is unabashedly holding my hand—almost sitting in my lap. Barbs is right next to me and glaring at anyone looking our way. Kate, Sara, and Mitsi are the second line of defense—backing up Barbie’s glares.

Then, there’s Chris, Fred, and Sam. While not in the league of the girls with their ‘phasers’ and their ‘kill’ setting, they’re doing admirably well at fending off any male offenses.

I almost can eat.

I just like stare at the salad in front of me, though.

Jillie says, “OK, Hon! You need to like eat something! Do you want me to go get you like something else?”

I sigh and take a nibble of salad, just to get her off my case. I over-chew it, though, and almost gag as I try to swallow it.

I wanly smile at Jillie as I force the macerated nibble down. Once I feel it hit the pool of boiling acid in my stomach, I choke out, “I like appreciate the support, guys, but I feel like I’m the main exhibit on Talos IV…”

I notice the blank stares from everyone.

What? I know! Star Trek novices!

I sigh, “‘The Cage’? Like really? No one?”

More blank stares…

I sigh more deeply, “No matter. Like everyone is staring—or glaring—at me. I’m like…well, a Borg…”

Jillie leans over and kisses me.

What? No, not just a quick smack. A real kiss.

What? My foot? Yeah, it does its best to pop under the table…

I blush even deeper.

Now everyone is staring at me—at us…

What? Yeah, I feel better.

Err…I think…

I sigh as I wonder if my lipstick is messed up. I check out Jillie’s and see hers isn’t—so, mine shouldn’t be.

Like right?

I sigh again and say, “OK, guys. So, I feel like the goat—or was it a sheep—staked out for the T-Rex in Jurassic Park, but that’s not going to change anytime soon… So, I guess we like need to go to class, huh? I mean, do we really? Who wants to like just get out of here…? We could skip class.”

Barbs just nods at going to class and Jillie gives me another breath-taking, foot-popping kiss.

So much for just ‘getting out of here’.

I put my less-than-half-finished salad on the conveyor belt to who-knows-where—the trash compactor where the jocks live, I guess—and we all move towards our next class.

As luck would have it, it’s English—and I have it with Jillie. Oh, yeah, I now sit next to her…

What? Yeah, I remember what Ms. Blackthorn said.

What’s your point?

Anyway, English is strange.

What? No, not the language! The class! Keep up, will you?

Anyway, Jillie and I go in. Well, the other Circle girls also have the same class. We like always have—even when I was here as Jimmy. Now, I’m wearing a skirt and going by Jacie, though. Well, and sitting between Jillie and Barbs. Kate is directly in front of me and Sara in front of Jillie, sitting to the right of me. Mitsi sits directly behind Barbs, to the left of me.

What? Jimmy? He used to sit on the other side of the room… By himself.

Anyway, I’m surrounded by my best friends—and have never felt more vulnerable in my life.

I sweep my skirt and sit down in my seat as Mrs. Hawkins comes in. She looks at me and smiles. I’m not sure if it’s genuine, or not.

She doesn’t publicly acknowledge me—or make a big deal of me being here. At least there’s that.

I get enough stares and glares from the others in class. No one had said anything like out of the ordinary coming in—I’m not so lucky going out, though.

Haley Simpson…

What? Yeah, she’s like Jenn Simpson’s sister.

What? Jenn Simpson? You remember her—the senior hot girl that we went to the mall with? You know, Jennifer!

Anyway, her sister, Haley is a wanna-be hottie—and sorely lacking her sister’s class. Jenn is popular for all the right reasons. Haley is not, because she’s her sister’s antithesis and she exudes all the wrong reasons.

She corners me on the way out of the classroom and says with a sour face, “Well, well, well, Jimmy. You certainly look…disgusting. I certainly hope you’re like happy getting our best athletes expelled or suspended. Now, we’re just a loser school, with a loser hot-girl-wanna-be. And she’s not even a girl.”

Mitsi just looks down her nose and says, “Well, it’s certainly good to know that you’re not a girl, Haley. We’ve always known you’re a wanna-be, just not that you’re a wanna-be girl. I’ll be sure to let your sister know. I don’t think she’s aware.”

Haley just spews poisonous steam from her head and stalks off in a huff.

The Circle—sans me—does a high-five and giggles.

I just deflate and dejectedly follow them to our next class, which is trigonometry. Well, Jillie, Barbs, Sara, and my next class. Kate’s taking geometry and Mitsi’s in pre-calculus, so we split up and go our separate ways, with me sandwiched between Jillie and Barbs. Sara’s leading the way and clearing a path for us.

This is certainly a barrel full of monkeys.

What? Oh, one of Momma’s sayings… It means ‘loads of fun’, or something like that…

Anyway, I’m not sure how I’m going to survive this. Now, girls are starting to go against me, too—at least some of them.

We run into Jenn Simpson right before going into the classroom. She comes over and gives me a hug and says, “Hang in there, Hon. You still have a lot of support—don’t let them get to you.”

I sigh, “Can you tell that to your sister?”

She gives me a questioning look and Jillie explains what had just happened. Jenn gets the same sour look on her face as her younger sister had just exhibited—only hers is in honor of her sister and not me.

She shakes her head and laments, “She just won’t learn. I’ll talk to Momma about her—again—she’ll straighten her out. Not that it’ll stick with Daddy…”

She lets the sentence drop and hugs me again. She gives me a final squeeze, then hurries off to her class.

I sigh and follow Sara into the classroom and find my new seat—between Sara and Jillie, this time. Barbs is in front of us.

Ms. Zweistein comes in and starts the class as if nothing is out of the ordinary. When she calls on me to answer a problem, she just says, “Jacie, please give us the answer to 2b.”

I blush and provide the correct answer and life goes on.

What? No, it’s not ‘To be, or not to be’! Grow up, will you?

Anyway, Haley’s giving me the evil eye. And she seems to be gathering a small following, if the crowd around her after class is any indication.

Just great!

What? No! Not really! Are you crazy?

Anyway, I’m drained by the time I sit down on the bus. I almost forget to sweep my skirt and keep my knees together. Not that Jillie would ever let that happen!

What? Of course, Jillie doesn’t let that happen! What did you think?

Anyway, other than the one event with Haley, everyone else pretty much leaves me alone. Thankfully, she’s not on our bus. But there are some of her seeming new disciples that are—and they’re giving me semi-dirty looks.

I sigh and look at Jillie, “I have a bad feeling about this. Haley’s gaining traction with more and more girls, I think. Sure, they’re mostly freshmen, but, still…”

Jillie just kisses me and Mitsi says, “Don’t worry, Hon. She actually crossed a line today, when she said you aren’t a girl. In terms of your transgender status at school—you legally are. She was just lucky that there wasn’t anyone around to hear it. I texted Ms. Blackthorn, anyway, just so she can check the video feeds.”

I sigh after un-popping my foot from under the seat.

What? Yeah, it’s hard to do sitting in the bus.

Anyway, I un-pop my foot and sigh, “Yeah. Well, I hate to get any more people in trouble.”

Kate says, “Stop right there, Hon! You’re not getting anyone in trouble—they’re like doing that on their own!”

Barbs just nods—emphatically. Sara, who now also rides home with us to join our sessions obviously agrees with the others.

I sigh again—and Jillie gives me another kiss.

The bus comes to a standstill at our stop and we all get off. Study group is at our house, today and Momma is home, having taken the whole day off for our meeting with Ms. Blackthorn.

I know she and Daddy were also going to meet with our family lawyer right after the school meeting. I didn’t even know we had one!

She puts out freshly baked cookies and I grab drinks for everyone, then we get down to business, including catching up on the classes that I missed this morning.

An hour-and-a-half later, my nerves are a little better and I’m caught up. Momma says, “OK, girls. What kind of pizzas shall we order? Rita will be here in two hours to pick up Mitsi, Kate, and Sara, so there’s plenty of time.”

We quickly agree on two large pizzas and side salads and Momma orders them to be delivered. Then she sits down and says, “Well, girls, there’s no reason you can’t all hear this. Jacie’s Daddy and I met with our lawyer, today. She also conferenced in the school’s lawyer.

The three jocks won’t get out of their school-imposed sentences. In addition, we are seeking injunctions against them. We’re not seeking financial damages, except from the Chapmans. The financial damages really only punish the parents and the Flemings and the Littles seem like good parents, whose kids just got messed up with the wrong crowd. The Chapmans are trouble, though—sorry, Jill, but I think you may agree?”

She smiles ruefully and nods, “Yes, Ma’am. I certainly found out their true colors when I broke up with Greg. He certainly hasn’t like strayed far from the trash compactor, as Jacie would say. His Daddy’s a real piece of garbage and I think his Momma’s the spawn of that monster that breed’s in it.” She giggles ruefully, “It’s strange that I never realized it when I was going with him, though. It doesn’t surprise me that he like colored Brad and Chad the wrong way.”

Momma nods—as does Mitsi, Sara, and Kate.

The doorbell rings a few minutes later and Momma goes to pay for the delivery. She returns while I’m passing out new drinks. We all take a piece of pizza and nibble on it.

Mitsi swallows her nibble with a thoughtful expression and inquires, “Cindy, do you think the band could like seek damages, as well? I mean, what he did like had the potential to hurt us, too.”

Momma looks pensive for several chews of her nibble and then she swallows and takes a sip of her drink. Then she says, “That’s a very interesting thought, Mitsi. I don’t have the answer, but we can certainly look into that. The band should have legal representation on retainer, anyway. Since Jacie’s Daddy is your interim manager, he can look into that for you.”

Mitsi nods and says, “Thank you, Cindy. I’m not sure why we would like ever want to replace George as our manager, though.”

She smiles and says, “Well, you want someone who understands the music scene better than he does. He’s a great salesman—and could sell freezers on Hoth, but, he doesn’t know the ins-and-outs of the music business. You need someone that knows what works best for you in that industry.”

Kate says, “That may be, Cindy, but we like trust George to look out for us—not himself.”

She smiles and gives her a hug, “I know, Hon. We’ll figure something out. But, tell me, how did the afternoon go?”

I sigh—she just had to go there. My stomach was just settling down. Now my pizza looks like Gagh, again.

Sara says, “It seemed to be going pretty well until Haley Simpson like did a drive-by attack.”

Momma looks stunned, “Margaret Simpson’s youngest? Don’t you girls get along with her older girl, Jennifer?”

Kate nods, “Yes, Ma’am. We get along great—and so does Jacie. Both the pre-and post-outed version. Haley’s a horse of a different color. Although, like she’s more of a cow than a horse!”

Everyone giggles—even me.

What? It’s like funny!

Anyway, Momma inquires, “So, what did little Haley do to deserve this sentiment?

Mitsi outlines her attack and Momma shakes her head and asks, “Did you girls report this to Ms. Blackthorn?”

Mitsi nods and says, “Jacie like was upset when she found out, but Haley is the perpetrator here. There’s like nothing for Jacie to feel sorry for her about.”

Momma looks at me and asks, “Is that true, Jacie?”

I sigh, “Yes, Momma. I mean, like the jocks got expelled or suspended because of me. I don’t care about Greg, but…”

Momma shakes her head, “You can’t think that way, Jacie. They’re the masters of their own destinies. You did nothing to make them act the way they did. It was their choice. They’re the ones that forced your hand. Do you really feel sorry for them?”

I sigh, “It’s not that I feel sorry for them, Momma. I don’t. But, like I’m getting blamed for their plight—not them. It like sucks!”

Momma exclaims, “Language, young lady!”

I blush but remain otherwise unrepentant.

What? It like does suck!

Momma sighs, “Look, I understand, Hon, but stooping to their level doesn’t help. So, what can I do? I know Marge, I can give her a call…”

Kate muses, “I wouldn’t do that just yet, Cindy. We told Jenn and she’s going to talk to her Momma. Ms. Blackthorn will also check the video feeds to see what was captured.”

Momma nods as Barbs says, “The bigger problem’s that Haley seems to be like gathering a following. She’s long been a wanna-be popular girl, or so I’m told since I’m like still the newbie here. Anyway, if this can’t be like nipped in the bud, there may like be bigger issues headed our way.”

Momma nods and says, “Excuse me girls, I need to give Penny Blackthorn a call.” She looks at me crossly and admonishes me, “Language!”

I cringe as her phasers hit me squarely in the chest. Luckily, they’re only set to ‘stun’. But, my bra is no shield and I feel the strong sting.

I nod, “OK, Momma. OK. Go! Before you break out the photon torpedoes!”

She giggles, in spite of herself, and goes into the living room with her cell phone.

The other girls…

What? For now, they are other girls!

Anyway, the other girls shrug as she leaves. They all agree that my language was like nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, it’s not like I said the F-word, or like anything…

We finish our salads and pizza and I put the rest in the refrigerator, just as Momma comes back in. She says, “Well, Penny wasn’t able to catch the conversation on the video feed. If push comes to shove, she could probably have an expert read her lips. But, she will be monitoring the situation extra-closely. I need you girls to be extra vigilante, too.”

Everyone but me says, “Yes, Cindy! We will!”

I just sigh. My shields are down to maybe ten percent and theirs are like going to quickly wear down, too. I’m not sure how we’re going to survive this new enemy coalition of the Klingons and Romulans.

I may be assimilated, but like I said, I haven’t adapted to the new technologies, yet. I’m clearly vulnerable. I could even still die…

What? I’m repeating myself? You know what, I don’t give a d…

Language? Go! Like leave me alone!

---

 

 
I hug Jillie. Rita had come and picked up the rest of the Circle and the two of us are alone in my room. Momma is on the phone with Daddy, who like had to leave on a business trip right after the meeting with the lawyer.

Her warm embrace in return is comforting—my safety tether. I feel like I’m going to get pulled back into deep space without a suit, again. Her lifeline is all that is keeping me sane.

Well, that and the kiss she gives me.

My foot pops and I feel my breath being sucked out of me.

I check; the tether is intact. My foot pops as I check.

I sigh in contentment as she breaks the kiss with her signature ‘smack’ and my foot eventually settles back to the floor. Of course, the simple fact that I can sigh, means that I can breathe.

What? Of course, it could be some Borg technology.

Anyway, I make sure the door is closed and we settle on the bed in a close embrace…

What? No! No more details…

We straighten our clothes and freshen up—well more like redo—our makeup an hour later and go back downstairs.

What? No! I told you no details!

Anyway, Momma is sitting on the couch, watching TV. She smiles knowingly at us and asks, “Feel better?”

I blush.

What? Yeah, so does Jillie.

Anyway, I nod and say, “I don’t know, Momma. Maybe I like made the wrong choice?”

She comes over and gives me a hug, “Give it a chance, Love. It’s still early in the game—and you knew it would be tough going.”

I sigh, “Yeah, but knowing and experiencing are two different things—even if they are closely related. Sort of like Vulcans and Romulans.”

She smiles, “Well, yes, and like I said, it’s not over yet, Hon. It’s likely to get worse before it gets better—but, you have the strongest shields in the Federation.”

I sigh again and say half-heartedly, “Yeah! Damn the photon torpedoes, and all, right?”

She just smiles and hugs me.

I can only frown.

What? I still don’t know whether I’m like doing the right thing, here.

Anyway, Jillie gives me a two-foot-popping kiss and breaks it with her signature ‘smack’. I greedily suck in air, now that the hatch is closed, since she has left me completely breathless with her simulation of deep space when kissing me.

Once, my face is back to a normal color…

What? It was blue from lack of oxygen!

Anyway, once it pinks up again…

What? Pink Tribbles? No… Where did that come from? They’re all gone!

Anyway…

What? Cotton candy? No! Go away!

Anyway, she rinses and repeats. And again…and again… Just like the ‘Energizer-Bunny’. Now, I even feel the stirrings of pink Tribbles, somewhere deep down inside me.

What? Maybe they’re not extinct, after-all!

Anyway, Momma finally just harrumphs and we all giggle. Jillie leaves to walk across the yards to her house—after bundling up, since it’s still Hoth-like outside.

I feel all warm and gooey inside, though—in spite of the blast of cold that hits me as I watch her walk home.

Then the cold sinks in as I think about tomorrow—and another full day of school.

---

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