After a full week of not updating this story, here we go again - not a moment too soon? It really kept me tossing and turning the whole week, deciding if there were any better ways to tell the story. But guess I'll have to end up trying the time-tested method of thinking as I write...the stage is yours, Chapter Four!
Second day of her so far less-than-thrilling time at her new school, and already May was standing face to face with one of her biggest foes - the basketball hoop. It was PE class, and the girls were taking turns throwing the ball through the hoop. With much success, noted May uncomfortably.
"Next!"
It was her turn. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Saras sniggering to her gang. Jean, meanwhile, was only smiling faintly.
May pursed her lips, aimed with a face so focused it would've put any NBA player to shame, and flung the ball as hard as she could. It sputtered midair five feet away from the hoop and bounced back feebly on the floor. Drat.
"Hmm...no good," the coach, a woman in her thirties whom Jean liked to call "Mrs. Frumpy", frowned. "Try again."
Saras coughed loudly on purpose as May strode over to pick up the ball. May flashed a brief scowl at her and went back to the three-point line. Aim and toss, but once again the lack of skill - not to mention height - told. Nowhere near the target.
Mrs. Frumpy shook her head. "Next!"
"Hello, May," an ominous group of Indian girls blocked her path as she was walking to the canteen for reccess. "Where's that good friend of yours?"
It was, of course, Saras and her gang. They quickly spread out, somewhat pinning May to the wall.
"Jean? I dunno, she went somewhere."
"So you two are like best buds now, huh?" Saras drew her face closer, making May feel uneasy.
"Well, she's been the only one who has bothered being nice to me."
A collective Oooh rose from her gang, prompting Saras to corner her with their help. "You've got some nerve to say that. Do you know how many friends I have around here?"
May remained quiet. She had been a prefect in her old school, and she knew Saras' sort. They wouldn't be satisfied till they established their superiority over others. Sometimes, if you were lucky, they preferred picking on those who fought back instead of those who gave in.
"Jean must have told you a lot about us," Saras said. "Did she say it yet?"
May shrugged her shoulders.
Saras clicked her tongue and slapped her mildly. "Don't play dumb. Did she say we're witches?"
"I really don't know."
"That's it. Take her money, girls."
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