Date: January 9, 1990 (Tuesday).
Location: The Cooper Residence / Highland Park Middle School.
Event: Damage Control.
**07:00 AM. The Kitchen.**
The phone on the wall was ringing. Again.
Mary stood in front of it, staring at it like it was a bomb.
"That's the fourth time," Mary whispered. "It's Mrs. Harrington. Or Mrs. Bradshaw. They're coordinating. It's a Phone Tree, Georgie. They're trying to freeze us out."
I walked over and took the phone off the hook.
The ringing stopped.
"Problem solved," I said, pouring coffee into her mug.
"You can't just unplug society, Georgie," Mary stressed. "I have to go to the grocery store today. If I run into Cynthia Harrington in the produce aisle, she's going to cut me direct. I'll be the pariah of Tom Thumb."
"Mom," I said. "You aren't the pariah. You're the Head Coach's wife. You hold the cards."
The back door opened. **Serena** walked in. She didn't knock anymore. She just lived here now.
"Mrs. Cooper," Serena said, grabbing a piece of toast. "Georgie is right. But you can't hide. If you hide, they win."
"So what do I do?" Mary asked.
"You go to the store," Serena said calmly. "You wear your best coat. And when you see Mrs. Harrington, you don't look away. You smile. A big, pitying smile. Like you know something she doesn't."
Mary blinked. "Pity her?"
"Exactly," Serena smiled. "Her son just got fired. Your husband is the King. In this zip code, pity is the ultimate weapon."
Mary straightened her back. "A pity smile. I can do that. That's practically Christian."
*Crisis 1: Managed.*
***
**07:45 AM. The Hallway.**
I knocked on the bathroom door.
"Go away!" Missy yelled.
"Missy," I said softly. "Open up."
A pause. Then the lock clicked.
I walked in.
Missy was sitting on the edge of the tub, sobbing. She was holding her denim backpack—the one with the rhinestones.
Someone had written "TRAILER TRASH" on it in black marker.
My blood went cold.
"Who did it?" I asked.
"Everyone," Missy sobbed. "Courtney. Her friends. They laugh at my clothes. They laugh at my accent. I hate it here, Georgie."
She looked so small. In Medford, she was the sassy one. Here, she was prey.
Serena appeared in the doorway. She saw the bag. Her face hardened.
She walked in, grabbed a bottle of hairspray and a rag, and sat on the floor.
"Hairspray removes permanent marker," Serena said quietly.
"They're jealous," Serena said as she scrubbed.
"No they aren't," Missy sniffled. "They're rich."
"They're boring," Serena corrected. "You have personality. They're just clones, Missy. And clones hate originals."
The ink faded.
"There," Serena said. "Good as new. Wash your face. Do not let them see you cry."
Missy nodded. She wiped her eyes.
"I'm not done," I said to Missy. "Grab your stuff. We're going to school. But we aren't going alone."
***
**08:05 AM. The Truck Bed.**
We were idling in the driveway. The truck bed was weighed down heavily.
I hopped out and walked to the back.
**Larry Allen**, **Zach Thomas**, and **Jimmy Smith** were sitting in the bed, shivering slightly in the cold morning air.
They looked confused. This wasn't the way to the high school.
"Alright," I said, leaning on the tailgate. "I know we aren't best friends yet. But last night, my Meemaw fed you about twenty pounds of fried chicken."
Larry Allen rubbed his stomach and smiled. "That was good chicken."
"Glad you liked it," I said. "Because now the bill is due."
I pointed to the cab of the truck where Missy was sitting, looking nervous.
"That's my little sister. Some rich kids wrote some nasty stuff on her bag yesterday. They made her cry."
Zach Thomas frowned. His eyebrows narrowed. "Bullies?"
"Yeah," I said. "I can't go over there and beat up a bunch of middle school girls. It's bad PR. But if the three scariest guys in Dallas just happen to walk her to class... I think the bullying stops."
Jimmy Smith checked his reflection in the truck window. "So we're security detail?"
"You're the Statement," I said. "You do this for me, and the chicken keeps coming. Deal?"
Larry stood up. The truck groaned.
"Nobody messes with the food source," Larry rumbled. "Let's roll."
***
**08:15 AM. Highland Park Middle School.**
The drop-off lane was a parade of Mercedes.
Courtney and her clique were standing by the front steps.
I parked the loud, rusty Ford.
I opened the passenger door for Missy.
She stepped out. She looked terrified.
Then, the "Statement" deployed.
Larry Allen hopped out of the bed. He landed with a thud that shook the pavement. He loomed over the sidewalk like a building.
Zach Thomas hopped out, eyes scanning the perimeter like a bodyguard.
Jimmy Smith slid out, smooth as ice.
Larry walked up to Missy.
"This the little sister?" Larry asked, his voice booming so the whole courtyard could hear.
"Yeah," I said.
Larry looked at the crowd of middle schoolers. He cracked his knuckles.
"She looks cool," Larry announced. "Anyone bothering her, Zach?"
Zach Thomas stared directly at Courtney. He didn't blink. He looked like he was about to tackle her into the lockers.
"I don't think so," Zach said.
"Allow us," Jimmy Smith said, offering Missy his arm.
Missy's eyes went wide. Then, a smile broke through.
She took Jimmy's arm.
They walked her up the steps.
Larry Allen walked behind her like a tank.
The sea of middle schoolers parted.
Courtney dropped her Gucci bag. Her mouth hung open.
Missy walked right past them. She didn't look at Courtney. She looked like the Queen of England.
I leaned against the truck, watching.
Serena was sitting in the passenger seat, grinning.
"That," Serena said, "was a power move."
"That," I said, "was a transaction. Chicken for protection. Everyone wins."
I got back in the truck.
I looked at the house. Mary was armed with a "Pity Smile."
I looked at the school. Missy was armed with the Monstars.
"Okay," I exhaled. "Now let's go play football."
**[Quest Update: Big Brother]**
* **Mary:** Stabilized (Serena's Coaching).
* **Missy:** Protected (The Transaction).
* **The Recruits:** Debt Paid.
* **Serena:** MVP of the chapter