Inside

Chapter 1

"Order, order" shouted a voice over the sound of a loud bang. Immediately, we all stopped what we were doing and turned to face the front of the classroom. Standing behind the podium with a gavel in hand was Clair Carlyle, the president of the Florence School for Girls' sophomore class. When Clair demanded attention, everyone respected her request. She was small yet giant. Young yet adult. Girlish yet macho.

Clair politely grinned at her fellow classmates for following her instructions. Though it wasn't as if she ever thought we would do otherwise. That's because Clair never saw us as peers. We were more like her fans and she, our fearless leader. Clair was in charge and we were her hapless minions. "Our primary order of business today is to discuss what will be the first fundraiser of the school year!" Clair cheerfully announced. "After a long and thoughtful process of choosing the perfect charity, we have decided on the very deserving organization 'Makeovers for the Homeless'!"

People clapped and cheered. I think I even heard a "bravo." All in celebration for what my peers really believed to be a worthy cause. I had a different reaction, of course. I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head. Could this organization be real? The thought of someone sitting around one day and all of a sudden declaring "By George, I think I've got it! I am going to start a charity that will give makeovers to homeless people!" was bonkers. Add to that, those around me concurring with "Wow! That is a good idea and exceptionally philanthropic!" was beyond ridiculous. But I guess at Florence School for Girls and the St. Joe's School for Boys, I was alone in this thinking because everyone else was instantly behind it.

There was an audible shudder hear around the room at the mere utterance of Rite Aid. What was so bad about Rite Aid anyway? It was where I bought all my toiletries. "You have something to add, Charlie Trout?" Clair asked, nodding to the imp sitting in the back of the classroom. "It would bring me no greater pleasure than offering up one of my hotels, The Castle, as the location to host this super fundraiser. I know we can provide the best possible service and hospitality for such an earnest and well intentioned event," purred Charlie as he fixed the scarf that hung around his neck. "Thank you, Charlie. That is ever so gracious of you as well as beyond-" "Ah! Sorry, I'm late!" proclaimed a lively voice entering the room with a loud commotion. We all looked over at the door. Sabrina Von Skoneker was standing there with a burly ma in a uniform, who was pushing a car full of wooden boxes. "Did somebody say happy hour?" "Sabrina, we were in the middle of a meeting," Clair chastised her best friend. "Oh, come on, Clair. Live a little. Open 'em up, Bud." The man obliged and grabbed a bottle of bubbly and popped it open as if it were a can of soda. "Who wants a glass? Or five?" People raised their hands and Sabrina began doling out the champagne into plastic cups. Clair looked around the room. This surprise visit had turned her orderly meeting into o a raucous party. Looked like this dictator had a revolt on her hands. But then an unexpected yet amazing thing happened. Sabrina approached me with a bottle in her hand. "Champagne for my real friends. Real pain for my fake friends." Sabrina giggled as she poured me a glass. She raised her bottle to my cup and clinked our beverages together.