Chapter Five — E is for Evil Plans Are My Specialty

Indiana, Andi and I were walking home.

Thanks to Rea's fabulous acting skills and my 'fake' stomach ache, we got Mrs. Alderman to allow us go home before the people in the cafeteria came out and saw me.

"She went too far this time," muttered Indiana.

"She did, and Taylor retaliated." Rea gave me a high-five.

"I'm not still satisfied. Dumping garbage over her stuff is one thing, but I need to make sure she permanently stays off my back."

"And how would you do that?" questioned Indiana as we stopped in front of Miss Brown's house.

I shrugged. We all stayed quiet, every one of us thinking. After five minutes and nothing came up, I groaned.

"Come on Andrea, help me. You're supposed to be the scheming one."

She threw her hands up.

"I've got nothing. Besides, you brought this up, you should have something."

Groaning, I went up the four steps to the house then rang the bell.

I was very conscious of how I looked - and smelt - and I tried to cover the hideous stains with my arms.

When that didn't work, I gave up. Miss Brown can say what she wants, I'm just here for my cat.

The door opened revealing Miss Brown in her wheelchair with Leslie on her lap.

Miss Brown was in her mid-thirties. A tall, slender woman with icy blue eyes and straight brown hair who had been confined to a wheelchair since her leg broke two months ago.

"Oh hello Taylor. Here for Leslie right?"

"Good afternoon Miss Brown. Yeah, I am."

"Well, here you go," she lifted Leslie up and handed her to me.

I reached out to grab her but Leslie just hissed and wouldn't leave Miss Brown.

"Come on Leslie. It's Taylor, remember," I cajoled her.

Leslie hissed again.

"I think I have a pretty good idea why she won't go to you," started Miss Brown. "What happened to your shirt Taylor? It smells horrible."

"I . . . um . . . art class."

"Art class?"

"Yeah. Paint and all that stuff."

"That doesn't smell like any paint I've encountered. Kinda like wet socks and bad milk."

"Yeah, well, it's paint." My face hardened with indignation.

"Fine, whatever you say. Let's try this one more time. Leslie, go to Taylor."

This time she let me hold her and I scratched behind her ear, planting a kiss in her immaculately white fur.

"Thanks so much, Miss Brown."

"Anytime. Leslie keeps me company. Bye!"

"Bye!"

She closed her door and I turned around and went back down the stairs to meet the girls.

"So, where to next?" asked Indi.

I knew what she meant. It was 12:45 when we left while school always lets out by 2. My mom would still be at work and so would Indy's mom. Our only option was Rea.

Me and Indy shot her a questioning look.

"Well, we could go hang out at my place," offered Rea.

"I thought you wouldn't offer," I said.

"Yay!" exclaimed Indy. "I can't wait to see Raoul."

Rea rolled her eyes.

"That little sucker ripped out the pages of my chemistry textbook to make, of all things, paper planes."

I laughed as we all turned and headed to the next street.

Raoul was Andrea's little brother. He was adorable with thick, curly black hair that Indi loved to braid. He was also a little too bright for a four-year-old.

I loved Rea's house. It was a mix of Indian and American styles and the irresistible smell of something spicy always seemed to hang in the air adding to the charm of the place.

Rea's mom was Indian while her dad was American.

Her mom worked as an aromatherapist, reducing pains and stress by giving certain things to smell, and she rarely left their house. Her dad worked as a journalist in the local paper and was one of the nicest men I knew. Having Rea as a daughter was stressful and he deserved a medal for letting her live to seventeen years.

We'd gotten to Rea's house and went straight in.

Immediately, the smell of curry hit my nose.

We stopped at the hall and took off our shoes before entering.

At the right was the living room. It didn't have any couches just humongous pillows scattered around the floor in front of the TV.

At the left was the dining room shielded by bead curtains. A set of stairs led up to the rooms. The entire house was painted a colorful mustard and orange.

"Come on, Tay. I think I have a shirt you can change into," said Rea as we headed to her room.

"Thank you. I smell like I haven't had a bath in twenty-four years. And I'm 17!"

Getting to her room, I gave Leslie to Indy, took the baggy T-shirt Rea gave me and went to her bathroom. After changing, I stuffed the smelly sweater I'll probably never use again in my bag.

I came out and we all sat on her carpet talking.

We rarely hung out at Rea's house. Because, one, her mom is strict. Her dad is a little bit more lenient but Rea's mom would always love to see her reading. Can't blame her mom since Rea would never decide to read on her own.

Secondly, Raoul is cute and all, but his practical jokes are way too much. We can never talk without worrying about when he'll enter Rea's room and spray us with water from his battered water gun. I swear that thing has seen more wars than anything on earth.

"So guys, any ideas?" I asked again.

Indy was petting Leslie while Andrea assumed yoga position.

"I don't know, Taylor. Maybe no plan is the best plan?" Indy shrugged.

I face-palmed myself.

We heard a disturbance near Rea's room and before long, Mrs. Cruz popped her head in Rea's room, her face filled with surprise.

A red sari was draped around her petite figure with huge necklaces surrounding her neck. A red dot was on her forehead and her black hair was loose.

"What is all this? Why are you girls back from school so early? Amira?" She turned to Rea.

"It wasn't me," Rea threw her hands up, "Taylor has a stomach ache."

I glared at her before turning to her mom and nodding.

"Well, I think I have something for that. Come along now."

"No, Mrs. Cruz. I'm fine. Really."

She raised a black eyebrow and pouted her red lips.

"I'm sure you are. I don't want this repeated again, have I made myself clear, Amira?"

"But . . ." Rea protested but her mom gave her a firm look.

"Yes, amma."

"Good. Lunch is ready. If you girls want to join."

Indy and I nodded. If Rea's mom had a superpower it would be the power to scare into submission. She could be very scary when she got angry.

After a very spicy and tense lunch that I was sure Rea didn't enjoy because she kept throwing angry glares at her mom, me and Indy left.

It wasn't her mom's fault though. Rea could be very naughty and often does very mischievous things. Like last two years when she covered the substitute teacher's car in rolls upon rolls of toilet paper. Don't ask me what he did to her.

I reached my door and was about to open it when Indy called my name. I turned and she threw my beanie to me.

"Try not to wear that again. You make fashion want to set itself on fire."

I rolled my eyes and went in.

I was immediately greeted by a small boy with brown hair running up to me.

"Twaylor!" he squealed stopping to hug my legs.

"Hi Mal!"

I bent to his level with Leslie in my arms and ruffled his hair.

"Kitty," he gestured for Leslie with sparkling hazel eyes and I put her in his arms.

I was usually stingy with Leslie but I loved my little brother, so, I guess it wouldn't hurt if he held her for a second.

Malcolm and Charles were the only siblings I loved. I could not stay for a week with Adrianna. I'd kill her!

My mom appeared still in her work clothes.

"There you are Taylor, I was about to call Indiana's mother," she looked me over. "Whose shirt are you wearing?"

"Long story mom. Long story," I said as I chased Malcolm upstairs because a second was a second in my book.

Later that night as I lay on my bed, Leslie in my hand, I considered my idea.

It would be nice to get Rebecca and her worshipers off me for good.

But the real problem was how?

You could do a project on them. The voice in my head offered.

I laughed aloud causing Leslie to open her eyes and look up at me.

I could do a project, but I trust myself, whatever I eventually came up with would be too demeaning. The last time I did one of my projects, I was given detention throughout that year for naming teachers and opening criticizing their teaching methods on my blog, TaylorWrites.

But nevertheless, that was a fabulous idea.

I put Leslie down beside me and searched under my bed for my laptop.

I didn't own much gadgets - the only one being my laptop and a camcorder I won from Henry when he dared me to fill Mrs. Alderman's coffee cup with dog food and thought I wouldn't do it. Under my bed was the safest place to keep it out of Malcolm's reach.

My little brother and technology didn't mix. The last time he touched a phone it was blasted to pieces and laid to rest underneath the tires of my dad's car.

My hand touched the cool metal and I grasped it, pulling it out. I laid it on my lap.

It was pink with an Apple sign that was guarded by two cute cat stickers. My future sister-in-law Hayley, got it for me and I immediately applied the stickers. When she saw it, she teased me about becoming a future cat lady.

I put it on and put in my password while Leslie rubbed herself on my woolen sweater.

Did I mention I have a certain fetish for sweaters?

My laptop went blank then turned back on, flooding my eyes with bright light and making them sting.

I rubbed them in pain and cursed my sensitive retinas.

When the pain subsidized I stared at my Monster High wallpaper through blurred lenses.

After a while, my sense of vision was restored - thank you dear good God - and I went straight to my notepad.

I scrolled through my former files with a smile on my face. I forgot I did projects for every year.

My freshman year project was not my best I'll admit - it was about the disadvantages of high school. My sophomore's was a little bit more controversial. I called out each and every teacher, analyzed their teaching methods and in short publicly announced why they all sucked.

How they found out I owned the blogsite was beyond me but I guess I brought it on myself for not coming up with something more original than TaylorWrites. Take notes future me.

Anyways, Principal Alderman called me to her office and gave me detention for my entire sophomore year - the longest detention sentence ever given in the history of Little Wood High, not that I'm proud of myself for that. My parents confiscated my laptop and grounded me during the summer holidays. It did not help my sanity, if any of you were wondering.

However, in the end I got the last laugh. I designed my blog in a way that an article once uploaded could never be taken down and no one but me could assess it - perks of having a computer nerd as a best friend. Long story short, it was still there for anyone to see. They wouldn't dare say it or show it but I was sure all the teachers hated me.

A light bulb went off in my head making a sinister smile creep unto my face.

You are a genius, Taylor!

With a sudden spark of evil inspiration only of the Taylor Crewman kind, I knew exactly what my junior year project was gonna be.

I opened a fresh file and started typing.

"Populars!

You'll mostly find these sets of people in learning institutions, young adult novels and cheesy teen movies. But has anyone ever sat down and wondered how they became so?

Why are they who they are? Why are they classified as such when just slightly over a handful of people attest to their existence? Why do they make life miserable for those who don't eat makeup and bounce balls - whose average height on leaving the floor is higher than all their IQs combined - around?

Why? Why? Why?

Well, don't worry, in this blog I, Nova Alejandro, has taken it upon myself to get the answers to this burning questions. And I've selected the infamous LittleWood High as my observation sight.

I'm going undercover to reveal the secrets to getting popular and taking snooping to a whole new level.

Wish me luck! *insert winky face*"

I rested back on my headboard and re-read my opener, a mischievous smirk on my face.

I have a feeling this is gonna set off another chain reaction of chaos, but, I wouldn't have it any other way.