Those Kids from Fawn Creek: Chapter 46–"I Am"

They were dropped off separately and agreed to meet at the soda station, just outside the gym. They hadn’t crossed the threshold yet, mostly due to Hallie’s Dr Pepper addiction.

There was something hypnotic about music blaring through loudspeakers. Like it had the power to make you a different person or something.

There was something hypnotic about music blaring through loudspeakers. Like it had the power to make you a different person or something.

It looked super haphazard. Like Greyson had all these different items of clothing and he patched them together into one big chaotic mess. Or like someone dressed him in the dark.

“Would you categorize Hallie’s shirt as a Halloween shirt or a dance shirt?”
Hallie stood up straight and opened her arms wide, putting her shirt up for scrutiny.

Dorothy glanced toward the gaping entrance of the gym.

Neither Barn nor Slowly would’ve had the courage to venture out and talk to any other girls.

The bathrooms of the community center weren’t exactly made for massive primping, so Baylee and Daelyn had to find their way to the mirrors with their secret stash of makeup by nudging other girls out of the way.

Their unpracticed attempts, coupled with all the other activity bustling around them, meant it took more time than they had anticipated.

“You can tell which ones are from Fawn Creek because they look like they belong in an institution.”

When the girl made a beeline for the bathroom door, Baylee called out, “You forgot to wash your hands!” and laughed as Sofie and her friends disappeared into the darkness of the gym.

Max had gotten him all riled up, talking about the Saintlodge girls they’d meet, but Colt was already bored, and the only person he’d talked to so far was Max.

Colt’s phone lit up, like a beacon in the dark.

“I have to get ‘Orchid’ outside, away from her two parasites for, like, five minutes,” Renni said.

And then she repeated it over and over, like a mantra smothered in too-sweet fruit body spray.
“Please? Please? Please? Please?”

The music walloped into Didi’s ears and all the way to her toes.

Orchid’s smile grew into a loud, harmonious laugh.

Didi was ready to dissect the entire incident, even though it had just happened, and wanted to ask if they really thought he’d come back, and she would have done all that—the three of them would have done all that—if Janie and Abby hadn’t sauntered up to them with fake smiles plastered on their glittery faces.

Janie was giving them direct eye contact, but Abby seemed shifty. She glanced from her feet to Orchid to the exit. Something was going on, no matter how hard Janie tried to fake smile.

“Interesting ensemble,” Janie said. “Very original. I love that you’re courageous enough to just be yourself. You know?”

Her voice sounded defiant. “Where are we going, Janie?”

She cupped her hands in front of her and kneaded her fingers.

“You thought you could come here and just make up stories and we’d all believe them because we’re some ignorant small-town hicks?”

When Renni reached for her, she flinched, but rather than strike her across the face, Renni plucked the flower from her hair.

Her arms were trapped at her sides. She tried to kick, but the attempts were feeble, and finally she stopped and looked directly at Janie.

Orchid made a sound. Something like a howl, something like a cry, something like a plea.

Janie reached her hand into Orchid’s hair, waiting for the moment that her courage would build to a crescendo.

He added a word at the end. A slur that made Janie’s heart stop.

Renni gestured at Orchid, nearly frantic. “She’s the liar! She’s been lying this whole time! Orchid isn’t even her real name! Do you know that? She lies! You think she’s all that? She’s nothing!”

The God Squad had summoned the adults.

Mee-Wee shoved the Blow Pop into her mouth. She talked around it, garbling her voice.

The principal’s office was sterile and clean, with two uncomfortable-looking chairs across from a big desk.

Greyson turned and watched the man stride to his chair.

Abrams glanced at Greyson’s outfit quizzically. Greyson had almost forgotten what he was wearing—a bright pink T-shirt with the words “Exist Loudly” painted in black and a pair of oversized jeans with one of his mother’s scarves as a belt.

When it was time to get into his father’s truck for a ride to school, Greyson politely declined.
“I’ll walk,” he said.