Dirty Fraud

by Eden Beck

  When we’re out of the way and diving into our chocolate escape, Dana frowns and points her spoon at me as she begins to chew.

  “You know what,” she says between bites, “I feel like we’ve been going about this the wrong way. We need to come up with a proactive plan of action.”

  I blink at her in confusion. “A what?”

  She peers thoughtfully at me. “Well think about this. Your natural reaction has been to avoid them, and anyone else who tries to give you hell, so far.”

  I glance up from my ice cream. “And the other option is? You know what they’re like.” I shove my spoon back into the bowl with a vengeance.

  “That’s right,” Dana says. “We do know what they’re like … and it isn’t what they’re pretending to be.”

  I stop eating. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she says, pushing away her own plate, “that you got to know them better than anyone else here last year. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that … well … they expected you to fight back? The Teddy I knew last year stood up to them like no one else ever had.”

  “That was Sadie,” I say.

  But Dana isn’t having it. “I don’t agree,” she says. “Now … you can go on getting ignored and shunned, or you can try and do something about it. It’s up to you. And after all, what’s there to lose?”

  I’m about to answer her when I have to stop.

  What is there to lose?

  I’ve already lost Astor, Wills, and Blair … the last of them twice. I lost my dignity, my reputation. My innocence. I gave them the space they needed … or at least, I thought they needed. That didn’t solve my problem. As far as I know, I’m still blacklisted in more ways than one … so really … what’s left to lose?

  “Alright,” I say. “I’m listening.”

  Dana is on a mission. “Well think about this. They might rule the school, but you have the upper hand here.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “I’m sorry … I must be totally missing your point here. How exactly do I have the upper hand?”

  “You can’t be brought down any lower.”

  “Ouch,” I say, but she just goes on.

  “You can only go up. You nearly flunked out of school last year because you were so busy trying to keep up with them, but this year you don’t have any of that. Your grades are going to rock and you will have tons more time for extra-curriculars. You can go out for any of the clubs or teams.”

  This is not the direction I thought she was headed, but I’m not about to shit on her parade. She starts listing out all the clubs and activities I can use to fill the void in my life left by the boys sitting less than a hundred yards away from me.

  I have to stop her, however, when she suggests I join the Chess Club.

  “I thought you said I couldn’t sink any lower,” I retort dryly.

  “Then volleyball.”

  “I hate things being thrown at my head.”

  She’s smiling widely at me now, and I know she’s not going to be subdued now that she’s got an idea like this in her head. “There’s got to be something you’re good at.”

  I shrug. “I think you might be surprised. Unless they have a club for delinquents who are still really bad at picking locks, I doubt it.”

  “You’re missing the point,” she says, exasperated. “What I’m trying to say is—not everyone can keep hating you forever. You just have to give them a chance to get to know the real you. Give them a chance to know Teddy Price.”

  I want to doubt her. The cynical part of me wants to believe that my lot is sealed. Better to keep my head down and out of the way rather than risk getting burned again, right?

  But then … I think back to the dark cloud that hovered over my spring semester, and the brief moment of light that came with Blair. I’m not sure I’m ready to head into the darkness again. Not just yet.

  “I guess it’s better than more of …” I motion to a group of girls sitting to our left who promptly looks away, “this.”

  “Yes,” she says, nodding vigorously. “I’ve always found keeping busy helps me not think of Victoria so much … and to be honest, I have a feeling you’re going to need it if you’re getting into Columbia with me next year.”

  The sheer absurdity of that statement almost makes me shoot milk out of my nose. “And I think you’re delusional if you think I can get in there,” I say, giggling.

  There, she’s gone and done it. Dana is a lifesaver, once again. I smile at her with gratitude and relief, my dark mood lifted. “But I’ll give it my best shot. I promise.”

  At that moment, there’s a burst of laughter and scraping chairs as the holy trinity rises from their table. I can’t help but notice how Victoria clings to Astor’s arm, and for once, he doesn’t flinch back.

  Dana frowns at the sight of them, and tries to distract me by shoving the rest of her cake my way as an offering. “You should forget them. They can’t see past their privilege. Anyone who isn’t already in the club has a seriously hard time getting in, and once anyone’s in, if they screw up at all, they’re out for life or longer.”

  “That’s me. Out for life or longer,” I say, accepting the distraction. I take another bite and try to focus on the chocolate instead of the emotion that wants to choke me again.

  “Don’t let it get to you this year. It’s not ever about anything that matters. It’s all based off of who their parents are.” Dana shakes her head.

  “I have no idea who my parents are,” I admit, wondering if that’s a good thing or not.

  “Did you ever try to find them?” Dana asks, before quickly adding, “Sorry if that’s insensitive. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

  I scoff and dive deeper into the chocolate. “It wouldn’t change anything. But yes … I tried to get the records once, but I never got anywhere. Whoever dropped me into foster care had the records sealed, and there’s no getting into them now. Might as well be Fort Knox.”

  Dana bites at her lower lip thoughtfully for a moment. “You know, I don’t know if I ever mentioned it to you, but my dad is a judge; kind of high ranking in the court system.”

  “I guessed that, actually,” I say, not mentioning it was because of the giant, gaudy photo of him in a curly white wig that hangs over their fireplace. I’d just assumed he was a judge … since the alternative is that he’s a sociopath that agreed to be painted like that for fun.

  But with these sorts of people, I guess you never know.

  Dana’s eyes have taken on a far-off look as she speaks. She’s coming up with this just now.

  “I bet he could get into your records if you like. I know he’d do it for you. He just loved you when you visited us for Thanksgiving last year. What do you think? Should I ask him about it?”

  I am stuck for a moment, somewhere between the little girl I used to be—the one who stared out of the windows and prayed and wished over and over again every single day for someone to come rushing up the sidewalk claiming they’d made a terrible mistake—and the woman that I am today. The woman in me doesn’t really care anymore who her parents are, or were. They’re just people who gave her up and didn’t care enough to keep her.

  But then, what could it hurt? Do I go for it? Do I let Dana’s dad try to uncover my mysterious past or do I just walk away from it and let it go, knowing that the same truth from my first days in foster care is the same truth I live with now. I am really the only person who is ever going to look out for myself when it comes down to it. Even Dana, sweet Dana, is going to leave me behind one day.

  All that’s waiting for me in that record is false hope. Right now, I just need to focus on what I can do to change things.

  I tell her this, as carefully as I can.

  “I used to hope they’d show up and take me back, but now I’m an adult, and I know better. Knowing who gave me up isn’t going to be better than not knowing who gave me up. It might even be … worse … if that makes any sense.” I reach out and give her hand a squeez
e.

  “Besides,” I say, leaning back. “I already have a mother. Ms. Martin, remember?”

  The idea is so ludicrous that both of us break out in a fit of unattractive, snort-speckled laughter. We draw eyes from the other tables, but I couldn’t care less.

  As soon as we’ve gotten ahold of ourselves again, a wicked look comes over Dana’s face.

  “You know,” she says. “There might be something else my dad can do for us if you wanted to give it a shot.”

  “Yeah?” I ask interestedly. “What’s that?”

  She grins. “He’s got a lot of ties to the foster care system. He might be able to get the other kids taken away—and that godawful woman removed as a caregiver.”

  Everything in me lights up like fireworks on the fourth of July. “Are you serious? Can we do that?”

  She laughs. “Oh yeah. We can definitely do that.”

  It still seems too good to be true. “But what about the kids? I mean … Ms. Martin has her flaws but …” I was about to say it could be worse, but could it, really? It could also be so, so much better. I eye Dana. “You really think he could help?”

  She nods. “And I’ll make him promise to get them into the best homes.”

  A sharp feeling stabs at the inside of my chest. I always felt a little guilty leaving the little ones behind with her. If there’s even the slightest chance that I can give them the chance at a new life, one that doesn’t rely on them having to lie and cheat their way into it, I have to do it.

  “Yes! Let’s do it! She has no business keeping kids, and after what she did last year with me here …” I trail off and Dana looks at me quizzically. I sigh and admit the truth to her. I never told her how Ms. Martin had blackmailed me into stealing thousands from the account of the dead girl I impersonated last year. It took me all summer to pay it off, but I never saw one penny of that money for myself.

  “I should have told you sooner,” I say, hanging my head. “It was just … even worse, somehow … than all the rest.”

  I’m still angry with Ms. Martin about what she did to me, but Dana’s idea sounds like something that could seriously put my old foster mom in her place, and permanently.

  “Wow. You have got to be kidding me. That’s it. I’m calling my dad today and we’re telling him everything.” Dana is as excited about it as me, and we both celebrate a small victory. It’s a start, a small one, but enough to make that fickle feeling rise up in me.

  Hope.

  It’s a new year. I might not get to start over … but at least I get to start something. I’ll change what I can. And what I can’t …

  I glance at the retreating backs of the holy trinity as they leave us in the dining hall with the rest of the students under their vice-like control. What I can’t change … I’ll just have to learn to accept.

  Chapter 6

  I have a meeting with my guidance counselor in the afternoon, and he seems determined to put a damper on my new attitude. The only encouraging thing he has to say over the course of what turns out to be a half-hour long berating at my expense is that he also thinks it’s a good idea for me to join some clubs so I can put them on my college resume. The way he says it, with a long sigh that’s still somehow skeptical, makes me want to throw in the towel on the whole thing before it’s even started.

  He leaves me a with a solemn warning.

  “I have to be honest with you, Ms. Price. You’re going to have a hard time getting into any college if you don’t keep stellar grades this year.” It doesn’t help, I know, that I didn’t take the SAT in the spring. I was supposed to … but like many things over the course of that last semester, it fell under the gloom cast by the holy trinity. “If you score well, I still recommend looking into community colleges. Try not to get too caught up in the rush for the Ivy Leagues. I think it’s safe to say your aspirations should be focused a little … lower.”

  “Thanks for all the encouragement,” I mumble as he waves for me to go, signaling our little meeting here is finished.

  I had a year to do it right and I screwed it up. Now my back is against the wall, and I’m running out of time. I have one chance to make this work at school, to succeed well enough that I can get into a good college and receive an education that will make me a marketable asset out in the real world. If I screw this last chance up, there will be no future for me.

  I leave the office feeling like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. I was so sure that I’d do it last year, and I didn’t. I got so wrapped up in Astor, Wills, and Blair, and even Victoria until we found ourselves at odds. Getting so lost in the popular scene cost me an entire academic year. At least grades-wise … I would’ve been better off not coming here at all. I can’t let that happen again.

  My counselor might not have much faith in me, but I’m used to that. I’m used to doing things on my own, and this is no different. The studies have to come first. The tests have to come first. My education, my college goals, my future. All of that has to come first.

  If I could just stay out of the holy trinity’s way … it would make the whole thing a lot easier.

  Too bad it turns out they’re in all my classes.

  Not all together, thank god … but they’re all still there, taking up the entire room the moment I spot each one in turn as they enter and find their place among the masses.

  I try to focus on something, anything else … but it’s like I can’t get a break from them at all. I even check with Ms. Mason, the all-knowing and omnipotent school secretary, after lunch about possibly changing any classes around, but she can’t even change one of them. The schedule is set, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I resign myself to the fact that I am going to just have to suffer through seeing the entire group every single day from now until Christmas.

  Maybe, by then, I can work something out to make my last semester here somewhat more bearable.

  I think of what Dana and I talked about. They might rule the school, but it’s my school too now, and I’m not going to back off or back down. I am going to make sure that I am a solid part of the student body here, and everyone is going to find out who I am and what I am really made of. Just because they spent a year with me as Sadie doesn’t mean they know who I am. It’s time to show them who Teddy is, and make it count.

  It’s like they sense the shift in me.

  I haven’t even started applying to any clubs when the tormenting starts up again. It’s subtle at first; a snide remark overheard in the hallways, a missing sock from the laundry. With each passing day, it grows.

  They still ignore me, but I know it’s them. Astor, Blair, Wills … even Victoria. They call the shots. And though it especially kills me each time Blair comes into a room and doesn’t even acknowledge my existence … the fact that their minions are on my tail again is a sure sign that I’m doing the right thing.

  I’ll not be the invisible, forgotten girl anymore.

  It’s a tough first week and I don’t know how I would ever have gotten through it without Dana, but the weekend comes at long last. Since I still haven’t decided on a club to join of my own, Dana took the initiative to sign us both up for some sort of program where we’re supposed to talk to some of the younger students about the transition up to high school. Even though they still go here to the same academy, they’re kept down the hill in a building of their own and they rarely dare venture up into our territory. The same iron rule that guides us up here has its grip on the younger students as well.

  We’re up early on Saturday to set up tables with information and organize into small groups that will lead tours and talk to middle school kids about what their life in high school will be like. It’s really not all that much different. I honestly don’t get what the big deal is, but it’s something to keep my mind off everything else … and it’s nice to be around students who don’t seem to know who I am for once.

  That’s why it’s especially surprising when I spot the holy trinity, along with Victoria of course, making a beeline to
wards where we’re set up on the lawn. My stomach simultaneously squeezes and sinks at the sight of them.

  I know the moment they spot me too, because both Astor and Victoria look at me like I’m the devil incarnate for one flash second before they look away. Wills gives me a dark look and crosses his arms over his chest. It hurts, but nothing hurts as much as Blair, standing next to them, when he speaks up and gives me an icy glare.

  “Hey Price,” he calls out to me, loud enough that anyone around us for a good distance could hear him, “I hope you’re watching what you’re telling those kids. Wouldn’t want them to end up like you, now would we?”

  Dana’s mouth falls open almost as far as mine.

  I can’t believe he said it. It’s bad enough that he’s been giving me dirty looks and acting like I don’t exist for the last week since he dropped me off, rather unceremoniously mind you, at the gas station in town, but this is just too much.

  Astor, Wills, and Victoria all bust up laughing and Astor gives Blair a high five. Dana rushes some of her group over to my side and grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly.

  “Don’t listen to them! He’s just trying to show off in front of the others. Ignore it. He’s a jerk.” Her words are meant to be encouraging, but I can see some of the students here in the group giving each other sidelong glances before taking a subtle step away from my table.

  “I don’t think I could do this without you,” I tell Dana earnestly once they’ve gone on about whatever their business is here.

  She smiles genuinely at me. “Well, you’re not going to have to, so don’t worry about it. We’ll get you through this.”

  We break off into groups and I’m supposed to be giving mine a tour of the main building, but I’m stopped shortly after we get back up to the great hall at the top of the hill. Ms. Mason waves me over and pulls me aside, something plainly wrong on her face.

  I know exactly what’s happening before she even has to say it.

  “I think we should find someone else to give the tour,” she says, glancing over my shoulder at the middle-schoolers shifting awkwardly while they wait in the hall.