Authors: Ted Michael
People stirred in their seats, waiting for him to continue.
“A month ago, the idea that I could stand in front of you all and make a speech without having something
heavy thrown at my head”—a few chuckles escaped the bleachers—“was ridiculous. But here I am. Thank you to everyone who voted for me. Thank you for taking me back and making me proud to be a Cougar.”
Naturally, a round of applause followed. I would be lying if I omitted that I was sick to my stomach. Anderson and I had connected on so many levels. We'd stayed up until one in the morning chatting softly about art and music and writing. We'd kissed until our lips were raw. My feelings for him had turned my world upside down. But in the end, he had chosen this—a roomful of people who barely knew him and appreciated him only for the genes he'd done nothing to inherit.
Before Anderson sat down, he looked at me, his eyes forever blue. I wondered how much he knew. If Clarissa had shared our talk in her bedroom or kept him in the dark. If he would ever have the guts to seek me out and apologize for betraying my trust and discarding me like something used up and completely unwanted. I felt an enormous sadness blossom inside me, and I chose to simply look away.
The rest of the boys’ speeches were uneventful. When Jed's turn came, his seat was still empty.
Mr. Townsen stepped back to the podium and said, “I'm not sure exactly where Mr. Brantley is, but I know that he is very honored to be a part of this year's Snow Court, and—”
At that moment, Townsen stopped talking, because
the two televisions on the gym walls turned on. Jed was on the screen: he was in the studio where the announcements were done. (Turbo was behind the camera.)
“What's going on?” Mr. Townsen said into the microphone, turning toward Principal Newman as if he knew the answer.
“Hi, everyone,” Jed said, more at ease on screen than ever before. “Most of you know me as the former student body president who was booted from the position. There are a few things I want to tell you. First, I was blackmailed by Clarissa von Dyke into breaking up with my girlfriend, Marni Valentine. Something I'm sure all of you remember.
“More importantly, Clarissa is not who you think she is. She is evil and manipulative. She has been controlling the mock trial team and bribing the jury in order to control social life here at Bennington.”
Clarissa immediately stood up. “This is ridiculous! Somebody shut that thing off!”
“Those of you who have been on the receiving end of Clarissa's wrath know exactly what I mean,” Jed said. “Those of you who've been spared, be thankful.
“Clarissa and the Diamonds have taken the principles of democracy, the very backbone of our country, and turned them inside out to get their way. To deny equality. To condemn innocent people without a fair trial. And all for what—scoring a spot on the Snow Court? Commanding power over the high school plebes?
“Their list of many offenses includes tampering with the mock trial jury—promising spots in the fashion show and instant popularity if people voted the way Clarissa wanted them to—and taking advantage of the system Principal Newman put in place to
better
our school, turning Bennington into a place of terror where students are attacked for no reason whatsoever at the whim of three snobby girls.”
I should let you know that the audience was on the edge of their seats this entire time. (Someone actually fell out of the bleachers and onto the gym floor.) Clarissa, by this point, was begging Principal Newman to turn off the television screens. I watched as he ignored her, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief and waddling over toward Mr. Townsen.
“The Diamonds have reigned supreme long enough,” Jed said. “It's time for them to be put in their place.”
The last thing he said before disappearing off the screen was: “If you don't believe me, Bennington, here's proof.”
The
proof
, which I'm sure you're wondering about, was the audio clip Jed put together from the bug he and Darcy had planted on Arlene, which played over the speakers in the gym. In it, the Diamonds admitted to influencing the jury (which, let's face it, wasn't such a shocker), but the
best
part was how much nasty shit Clarissa & Co. said about individual students, faculty
members, and Bennington in general. Talk about airing your dirty laundry.
There was a stillness in the room I had never experienced before in such a large crowd. People were offended. Then someone—a guy whose face I couldn't see—yelled out, “The Diamonds suck!”
Another person said, “Yeah! They suck!”
Someone else said, “Dick!”
Before I knew it, one or two voices had turned into a shower of sound. People were clapping (for Jed, I think) and booing (for Clarissa, I think). Just when I thought the entire room was about to erupt in the kind of support that would banish the Diamonds forever, Clarissa stole the microphone from Mr. Townsen and screamed.
“New Jersey!”
she screeched, her voice amplified and charged with ferocity. Immediately, people quieted down. “There,” she said. “Now that I've said something
disgusting
, let's continue.”
Clarissa marched in front of the Snow Court and planted herself in the center of the gym. “Not only are all of Jed's claims lies,” she said, “but they aren't true. What can you expect, though, when he dated Marni for almost a year?” If I had been less shocked, I certainly would have been offended.
“You know that I have your best interests at heart, Bennington,” Clarissa said. “That I've tried my best to bring the mock trial team to an entirely new level. To actually
help
people solve their problems. And I think
I've done a pretty good job.” She looked at Priya and Lili, who nodded. “Actually, I think I've done a
great
job, and I'd like to
keep doing
a great job.
“Jed and Marni are only trying to disparage my reputation because they are unhappy with their own mistakes. That audio clip was completely doctored. I would
never
say such horrible things about a school I love so much.” For a moment, I thought she was going to speak to me directly, but that didn't happen. “In fact, I wasn't going to say this, but it's only fair that you all know the truth.
“Marni Valentine used to be my dearest friend. Over the summer, however, she
seduced
my boyfriend and had her way with him. What kind of person would do that to her
very best friend
?”
I grasped my thighs. I would not let Clarissa get to me. I would not show anyone at Bennington that I was weak. Even if I had been wrong.
“Don't believe a word she says about me. Marni is the one who's a liar. Not me. Not Lili or Priya.
Marni.”
By this time, Mr. Townsen was standing next to Clarissa. He tapped her on the shoulder and held out his hand, curling his fingers to indicate that he wanted the microphone back.
“Thank you,” said Clarissa. “Oh, and vote for me!”
Clarissa sat down and crossed her legs. “Tired yet?” she said to me triumphantly. It irked me. Mostly because even though she was so very deluded about so many things, she was also right. About me. I
had
betrayed her trust and been with her boyfriend behind
her back. I'd hurt her and kept what had happened a secret.
But she still needed to be stopped.
“This is certainly different,” Mr. Townsen said. There was a low hum among the crowd, but for the most part, the whole of Bennington was still paying attention. Principal Newman was breathing into a paper bag; his secretary, Ms. Rose, was fanning him with a manila envelope.
“It seems like we should wrap things up and, uh, get back to class.” Townsen looked over at the court. Of the princesses, Clarissa had been the only one to speak. “Do any of you ladies mind if we skip the formalities?”
Now was the moment I'd been waiting for. When I was supposed to take the microphone and list the millions of wrongs Clarissa had accrued over the past few weeks. To name names, reveal secrets, and be sure that every single person who had made my life a living hell since the Closet Incident would understand what was
really
going on. But suddenly that didn't seem like the best road to travel.
I finally had the attention of the entire school, and it was time to apologize.
“I have something to say, Mr. Townsen,” I said, rising from my seat.
Clarissa coughed. “Hasn't she already done enough?”
“Everyone has the right to a fair trial. In America, we are innocent until we are proven guilty.” Townsen
handed me the microphone. Then, so that no one else could hear, he said, “Make it count.”
My wrist wobbled as I lifted the mic to my face. I felt like a substitute teacher trying to get the attention of an unruly class.
“Hi, everyone,” I said.
A second or two went by, and then a girl whose voice I recognized (either Dara or Dana Hoebermann) screamed, “I haaaaaaaaaaaate you!” Then an identical voice echoed, “I love your dress!”
People laughed, and the bleachers came alive. I couldn't tell if the students were for or against me. I could barely even see anything.
“I know what you all must think of me. But this isn't about me, Clarissa”—I turned to her—“and it's not about Anderson. It's about
you
.
“When I first started at Bennington, you were there for me. You were a friend when I needed one, and you made this school—which we all know can be extraordinarily difficult at times—enjoyable. Priya and Lili too. Being popular was more than I could have ever asked for. But it's not everything. It's not the most important thing. Actually, it's not really important at all. When I stopped being friends with you, I met a group of people I never would have gotten to know otherwise. People who are amazing and loyal and funny. And just because they aren't Diamonds or on the football team or the basketball team or
whatever
team doesn't mean they don't deserve the same kind of happiness.”
I took a few steps forward, addressing the entire gym. “For the past few weeks, the Diamonds have been putting us on trial. For things we didn't do, for things we
did
do but are unimportant, for hanging out with the ‘wrong crowd’ or for any inane, ridiculous little reason. And we've all gone along with it. But this has to stop. Now.”
I walked back to my chair, where my purse was sitting. I reached inside and pulled out a packet of white paper. “The Diamond Rules,” I said, watching as people nodded in acknowledgment. “I'm sorry to say I was the one who first came up with these. I never intended for them to make anyone feel uncomfortable or unwelcome in their own school.” I dropped the packet onto the floor. Then I stepped on it with the heel of my shoe, reached down, and ripped it in half. “No more,” I said, turning toward Clarissa, Lili, and Priya, who were watching me with a mixture of curiosity, fear, and glitter lip gloss.
“I think it's time for one last trial,” I said. Jed and Turbo had returned from the television studio and were standing in the corner with Monique. “We may not have fancy robes or a stenographer or a bailiff, but we do have one thing: the truth. And, this time, a
real
jury of our peers.
“Anyone who has ever felt violated by the Diamonds, who has had an unfair trial or been accused of a crime you didn't do, please raise your hand.”
I didn't expect everyone in the gym to raise their hands. I didn't even expect half the students at
Bennington to participate, so when they did, I was overwhelmed. The gym was covered in arms and hands and fingers.
“Good,” I said. “You can put your hands down. Now, raise your hand if you think that Lili should be removed as student body president, and that the Diamonds’ membership on the mock trial team should be revoked on the charges of bribery, perverting a jury, slander, and purposely violating the principles of the United States Constitution. If you agree that, based on the evidence you've heard today, the Diamond Court should cease to exist—”
“Evidence?” Clarissa shrieked. She didn't even need a microphone. “What evidence? That recording was bogus, and you're a liar.” She turned to Mr. Townsen for help. “This is ridiculous! You have no real proof!”
Then Tommy entered from the back of the gymnasium, through a door that had been closed off for the pep rally. With him were four freshmen, staff editors of the
Bennington Press
, each of them carrying a stack of newspapers on a rolling cart. “Actually, we do,” he said. At the sound of his voice, two hundred or so heads changed direction.
Clarissa grabbed her hair and pulled.
“What
is going
on
here? Arlene? Arlene!” Priya was already calling someone (her father?) on her cell phone, and Lili, I think, was crying. It was hard to tell.
Despite the lights (and my exhaustion), I could see
Tommy smile at me from across the room. The freshmen started handing out the newspapers to each row of the bleachers. They were the thickest newspapers I had ever seen; they must have weighed ten pounds each.
“Here's the latest copy of the paper,” he said for everyone to hear. “Everything you need to know is right here.”
If you haven't already guessed what this particular edition of the
Bennington Press
was, then you haven't been paying close enough attention to my story. It was the exposé I had promised Tommy I would write detailing my journey with the Diamonds. It included transcriptions of their plans to handpick and bribe the jury, plus case files and pictures, and described Clarissa's “take no prisoners” quest for the Ice Queen crown, my secret relationship with Anderson, and my explosive confession about our past. It provided documentation of the students we'd wronged and the individual rights we'd violated and depicted my rise to and fall from grace, the mistakes made and lessons learned, and finally, my realization that I was better off without my so-called friends. Without the Diamonds.
It was longer than I'd expected, and way more personal, too, but I think it turned out pretty well. If you're wondering exactly what it said, don't worry.