Girls Don't Know Jack

The Girl Gang of Misfit Teens

♫ Walk - Griff 

Under the setting sun, I attempt to wrangle the gaggle of misfit girls behind the brick building of Wilcrest Academy. Excited chatter fills the air as I take a few steps up the cement stairs.

"Okay, everyone listen up," I shout over their heads. Quieting down, dozens of eyes stare up at me, waiting for my next instruction.

Faces who have never thought to spare me a glance before, now listen intently. It's actually quite beautiful how the mind-numbing beauty of one teen boy can bring so many people together.

Clearing my throat, I raise my voice to cut through the crowd. "Alright, listen up," I instruct. "Parents are beginning to file into the library for the PTA meeting. Once we head in, we will need to appear united—show our support for Jack Moody."

A few heads nod back at me. Some smoothing their hair or applying their last touch ups to their faces. It's a bit nauseating to see them only care about their appearance to Jack, but I'm not afforded the luxury to be picky right now.

My eyes lock onto Jade in the crowd, she offers me a small smile of encouragement. It calms a bit of my nerves.

It's nice to have her support again—and all it really took was being honest. Who knew? One short conversation about what had been going on with Jack, and she was on board to help.

And I know I promised Jack I wouldn't tell anyone about his mom, but I figured under these dire circumstances, he might be willing to hear me out on that.

The heavy door creaking open behind me causes me to jump. Turning around, I'm met with Naila's mess of curly hair popping out of the opening. "I think they're ready!" she squeaks and I give a curt nod.

.....................

A gaggle of pleated skirts tap down the shiny maroon floor in matching Mary Janes. Rounding the corner, we march forward like the least intimidating gang of misfit teens you've ever seen.

Stern faces determined to complete the mission at hand approach the double doors of Wilcrest library, flinging them open before scanning the crowd.

Dozens of plastic chair filled with sweaty old bodies gather in the center of the carpeted floor. All peering up to take in the mass of girls crashing the meeting. Narrowed eyes watch as we file into the back of the room.

The beady eyes of Mr. McKinney are enough to burn a hole straight through my forehead. Red faced and shaking, he sits near the front with Emma cowering at his side.

Leaning against a row of tall bookcases, I stand shoulder to shoulder with my army of girls, staring back at the force of a man, challenging him to the face off to come.

A hand stretches up above the crowd catching my attention. It waves back at me and I follow it down to a comforting face. My dad smiling widely at me, round cheeks rosy as he beams, so proud I've initiated such a movement for my friend.

Nudging my mother at his side, she follows his lead, smiling back at me before offering me two thumbs up. By their gestures, I try to act embarrassed, motioning for them to stop it—but really, I'm elated to see them.

I'm riddled with nerves. Hands clammy anticipating having to speak in front of this many people. And even more nervous at the possibility of none of this working—of Jack still receiving an expulsion at the end of this all.

The thought of never repairing a friendship with Jack Moody is enough to make me feel sick.

Like Beetlejuice himself, the thought of the boy brings his presence to life. Entering into the room, it's like a puff of fresh air has been breathed into us all.