After Amani's "fall" (insert air quotation marks) I had offered to help her with her business. She had, at first, declined the offer, saying her hand would heal quickly. She had texted me just this morning to see if the offer still stood. Apparently her independence an pride wouldn't continue in the face of damaging someone else, namely her customers. Shifting from foot to foot, I knocked quickly on her door. It opened slowly and she peered out, greatly resembling a drug dealer checking for cops. She waved me into the room. I scuttled in and dropped my bag on the end of her bed.
"How's your day been?" She asked as she pushed a second chair up to her desk.
She sat down and crossed her bronze legs criss-cross-applesauce in front of her. Her and Colleen's room had posters covering all four walls. A desk sat at the end of both girl's beds. Amani's was covered in piles of papers, presumably her customers' homework. I scanned the room, examining the posters. A Rosie the Riveter poster sat plush against a Metallica poster and a Harry Potter poster. Prince stared down at me from Amani's side of the room, hanging just over her bed. Elvis Presley was in a similar position over Colleen's bed.
"Pretty good," I said, sitting down in the empty chair, "you have a nice room. But where's Colleen?"
"Drama."
"Oh, well, how was your day, love?" I asked.
"It was actually really good."
"That's surprising."
"I know right?" She scoffed.
She pulled out her laptop and pulled up a blank document. Using her good hand, she passed me a slim folder. It was labeled as 'Mrs. Garner's Math Class'. I skimmed the papers inside it. The answers to every question were neatly printed onto a paper in the front of the folder. The rest of the papers were the actual homework. I pretended like I didn't see Meri's name on one of the papers.
"I already figured out all of the answers and typed them up for you. All you have to do is copy them down."
"Oh, thanks," I said as I propped the folder open so I could see all of the answers and removed the first page of the homework.
The name at the top, written in incredibly sloppy handwriting, was Brian Hughes. I began the tedious process of scribbling down the answers. After several minutes of silence, I asked,
"What are you working on?"
"The Atom Essays for Mrs. Roth."
"How do you do that?" I asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, don't the teachers notice when every kid turns in the same essay?"
"Slight v variations," Amani explained, never tearing her eyes away from her computer.
"Only slight?"
"Well, " she began, "they start out that way. I'll change a little thing about the copy of the original. Then I'll alter the copy of the copy. And then I'll alter the cop of the copy of the copy. And so on and so forth. By the end of it all, the very last one is no more similar to the original than I am to you."
"But they're perfect," I stated.
She grinned at me, noticing how loaded of a statement that was.
"But they're perfect," she agreed
We sat in a companionable silence, both rushing through our work, before I realized that I had yet to ask her a question that had been bothering me for a while now.
"Why did China push you?" I asked.
She chuckled humorlessly, "we were having a bit of an argument."
"You were arguing with China Arford?"
"Well," she began, "that's where it gets fuzzy. We were arguing and someone pushed me. But China looked as shocked as I felt when I started falling. I'm not sure she would've pushed me. At least, not in that particular stairwell."
"Which stairwell was it?" I asked.
"The West stairs for the Girls' Dormitories."
The west stairs were rarely used. Even the girls who slept on the West wing preferred to take the East stairs. I couldn't blame them, thinking about the twisting stairwell. The East stairs were much more hospitable and roomy. The West stairs were as tight as a sardine can. I shuddered.
"You must ha e hit every wall on the way down," I murmured.
"From the way I felt when I woke up," she said dryly, "I'm fairly certain I did."
"Maybe it was one of her friends that did it?"
"Maybe."
"What wer eyou two arguing about?" I wondered aloud.
"I think, and don't quote me on this because I don't know for sure, but I think she thought that she didn't have me as tightly wrapped around her finger as she had once thought."
"Is that true?"
"Very true," she replied.
"Well, regardless of who pushed you, China was involved in it. So why are you so eager to let her off the hook and end our plans?"
"I-I heard some stuff the other day," she stammered.
"When you were in the Headmaster's office?"
"Yeah."
"What did you hear?"
"I don't really want to tell you all of the details. But China's father isn't exactly kind and understanding."
"Understood, love."
"I know it seems so weird that I wouldn't want to end her for it," she said softly, "but after everything I heard, and knowing what kind of mess China will be facing when we act against her, I just can't do it."
"You're a better person than I," I said with a chuckle.
She laughed quietly and said, "it's hard for me to give up the idea of revenge too. But, after hearing... that, I would be a horrible person to let this continue."
"I know. And Margaux and I both understand."
I slipped the finished Math papers off to the side and shut the folder, setting it down on top of the neatly stacked papers.
"What's my next job?" I asked.
"Actually, I can do the rest of it on my computer. So you're free to go. You can also hang out with me for a bit if you'd like. Whichever you want to do."
I glanced at the, still, grossly large mass of papers on her desk. We had barely made a dent in them.
"I'll stay for a bit."
"Thanks. I have a weird question for you."
"Shoot," I replied, leaning back in the chair.
"Why does China dislike you?"
I sighed, crossing my leg under me, "I don't fight back. China likes the drama, the game. And she never gets it from me. I think she's become obsessed with the idea of making me fight her."
Amani thought about that for a moment before saying, "Your story with China is a lot braver than mine."
"I wouldn't say that," I argued, "I'm not the one who took on a flight of stairs rather than be intimidated."
Amani laughed, "you make it sound better than it was."
"So, what are we going to do about China?" I asked.
"Well, we can't get the faculty involved. At all. But we need to find a way to intervene before she figures out who we are. China is incredibly intelligent. I just wish she'd use her brain a bit differently."
I snorted, "I don't think miracles are our level of expertise."
"Let's hope you're wrong about that, because we're gonna need one."
YOU ARE READING
Three Blind Mice
General Fiction✨COMPLETED✨ WRITTEN BY KIT WALKER "Mark my words, Margaux Dupont, you will pay for this." China and Renee marched off, towing Hannah in between them as she continued to mourn a shirt that was only truly decent. Meri slithered over to me as soon as t...
