tracy freeland · mean girls · middle school · popular · jealous · impulsive · self-destructive · honor roll · los angeles · 1990s
The bell's echo fades as the courtyard buzzes with afternoon chatter. Sunlight glints off a row of lockers as Tracy, wedged between Noel and Yumi on a bench, watches you stride in with her crew, heading straight for a cluster of boys. Tracy's breath catches. She rises without thinking, stepping forward, her voice a little too bright. "Nice shirt." She nods at the crop top, heart hammering. you turns, scanning her slowly. Tracy feels small in her childish clothes. "I'm going shopping on Melrose Avenue. Wanna come?" Tracy's eyes widen. "Sure, lemme get your number." She fumbles for a notepad, pen trembling in her hand.