Real by Carol Cujec (snow like ashes .txt) 📕

bus and gave my arm a squeeze. “Nice going, Charity,” she whispered. “Stu is a sweetheart. I took a picture of you two. I can print it out for you if you want.”

I smiled inside. This is what it felt like to be included. I never wanted this feeling to end.

When I got home from school, Mom brought over the keyboard to hear about my day.

“Was the field trip fun? What was your favorite part?”

She supported my arm to type.

I felt pity-free today.

Mom nodded and put her hand on her mouth like she might cry.

Mom’s ringing phone jolted us both. It was Mason. She put him on speaker.

“Hi, Mason. How are you and your mom, honey?”

“Uh . . . hi, Aunt Gail. Is Charity there with you?”

“Yes, of course. She’s right here.”

Something in his voice told me he was not calling with happy news. And I was royally right. Apparently, the gossip app was buzzing again. Mason explained to Mom how to pull up the site on my iPad so we could see.

Sassygirl72 had posted pictures of me on the field trip—one with me drooling on the bus and one of me standing next to a photograph at the museum—the lunch-counter photograph—my lips pressed into a duck face. The captions read, “First-class embarrassment!!!” and “Is this the way we want Lincoln represented???”

I felt the knife plunge into my back.

Grace is Sassygirl?

It was more painful than anything I experienced at Borden. Why was I so stupid to think she was my friend?

Mom’s eyes were shiny. Her voice screeched. “I don’t understand. Who would betray you like this?”

Pity poured back into my heart and filled it with hopelessness.

Principal Pointless

My logical brain could add 2 + 2. Based on glaring evidence, Grace posted those photos. Grace was Sassygirl, probably scheming with Darcy this whole time.

My bulldog impulse wanted me to crawl into a hole.

“You want some OJ with your eggs, Cherry Girl?” Dad could not disguise his sad voice. Mom had told him all about it.

Mom and Dad sat silently for a few minutes. No one had an appetite for Dad’s sunrise scramble.

“I made an appointment with Mr. Jergen today,” Mom announced.

I looked at her with big eyes. I wanted to scream.

I told you NOT to.

“I’m going to tell him you’re being bullied online. Mason agreed to come with us.” She wiped the corner of her eye with a napkin.

This is pointless. Jergen will not care about teenage gossip.

“Remember all you’ve accomplished, Cherry.” Dad stroked my French braid and then tickled my ear with it.

I was not in a laughing mood.

“This nonsense doesn’t diminish any of your achievements.” Dad sighed. “I know it stinks, princess. I wish I could take away the pain.”

An hour later, there we were, sitting in Jergen’s office. I was not the only one fidgeting. Mason, Mom, and I all nervously tapped fingers and feet waiting for him to arrive.

I noted Mason’s sweaty forehead, as if he had jogged a mile to get there.

I nudged Mom so I could type a message to Mason.

Sorry for getting you sent to the principal.

Mason shrugged. “I’m neck-deep as it is. Might as well dive all the way in.”

A memory replayed in my mind. Mason and me, four years old, swimming with floaties in our backyard pool.

You are not keeping your head low anymore.

He laughed. “Yeah, well, I have a new motto—do what’s right. You’re the one who taught me that, Cuz.” He looked at Mom. “Any idea who took the pictures?”

“Yes, Charity says it was Grace. How she could turn on Charity like this, I just don’t understand.”

“Well, wait a sec,” Mason said. “Grace might still be innocent.”

What?

I pounded on the desk.

“How could that be?” asked Mom.

“Well, she could’ve posted them online. At that point, Sassygirl could’ve snagged them.”

Oh my gosh. Why did I not think of that?

I prayed he was right.

“Are we in trouble?”

I jumped seeing Grace at the door. Literally—I jumped out of my chair.

Mom helped me sit back down.

“Hello, Grace, dear,” Mom said. “Have a seat, and Mason can fill you in on the situation.”

“Well, to start,” Mason said, “I guess we were wondering if you posted any of your pictures from the field trip on social media.”

“Heck no. I hate those sites.”

Mom and Mason looked at each other.

“Soooo, no one had access to your photos?” he asked.

“No.” She paused. “Well, except for . . . I don’t have a ton of space on my phone, so I uploaded a bunch of my photos to the online yearbook album after school. I’m on the committee. I figured we’d include a few of them in this year’s issue.”

I breathed out relief.

“Good to know,” Mason said, nodding at me. “And . . . out of curiosity, is Darcy Warner on the yearbook committee?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask? What’s going on?”

I watched Grace’s expression as Mason showed her the posts about me. Her face filled with disgust.

“This is totally sickening! You don’t think Darcy is Sassygirl, do you?”

Mom helped me speak out.

She has never liked me.

“Well . . . I won’t deny that. But honestly, this is not something she would do. I’ve known her a long time, and . . .” Grace shook her head. “There’s just no way . . .”

Who then?

Grace bit her lip.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Mr. Jergen looked more stressed than usual. “I received your email, Mrs. Wood. Can you show me evidence of this cyber-bullying?”

He scanned the posts on Mason’s phone.

“This is indeed disturbing. Any idea who might be behind it?”

Grace looked down.

“We have no evidence,” Mom said. “Mason tells us that users are anonymous. Impossible to track.”

Mr. Jergen shifted in his chair and then looked me in the eye. “Miss Wood, I am very sorry you have had to endure this treatment. I am frankly shocked that any of our students would stoop so low. The sad reality is that unless we have proof that this bullying was committed on school grounds, it is out of our jurisdiction.”

Mom’s voice got squeaky again. “Are you serious? There’s nothing you can do?”

Jergen shook his head. “Unless