~8~ The Response?

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Chapter Eight: The Response?

Song for this chapter: “Hey Mickey” by Toni Basil

     If I were to tell you that school was crazy on the following Monday, that would be an understatement. It was complete chaos. And guess who created that chaos?

     None other than Mickey. Or maybe I should start saying me.

     The name was still so foreign to me. Calling myself Mickey was like trying on my first pair of skinny jeans. I had to get used to the strange feeling.

     The hallways buzzed with chatter. As I passed by my fellow classmates, I could hear snippets of their conversations.

     “Mickey…back!” I heard someone exclaim cheerfully.

     “I heard Jane got some advice.” Another explained quite impressed.

     “…so exciting…!”

     After hearing a few more bits and pieces of other conversations, I almost had to suppress a grin. Knowing that I was causing such a huge commotion made me feel somewhat giddy. I was the talk of the school.

     Yes, me—Ana Davis.

     “He-yo,” a familiar, girly voice greeted, causing me to turn around. There behind me was my bubbly best friend, Heather.

     “Hey,” I said, making sure I had my smugness under control. I was, after all, still keeping this a secret from her. Although I still felt like I was lying to my friend, I was beginning to note that it was getting easier to hide it from her.

     She grinned at first, but then she narrowed her eyes at me. “You look…happy.”

     “What? I can’t be happy?” I frowned, playing it off.

     “Well…considering that every single person has been talking about you-know-who, I expected to see that sour face of yours.”

     I gave her a look. I never looked sour when people talked about Mickey. “What sour look?”

     “That one!” She grinned, pointing at my face.

     “That’s not sour…. that’s just how I look.” I defended myself.

     “Ohh,” she said. “Well then you might want to change how you look, bud.”

     My frown grew wider. “Funny.”

     “Just kidding,” she replied, winking. “But seriously, dude. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the school so lively in the morning. Even when Mickey was retiring.”

     “Mhm,” I agreed. “Who knew Mickey could create such a racket.”

     “No kidding. I heard it was Jane that got the first legit advice,” she told me, as we pushed through the crowded hallway.

     “Jane who?” I asked. I honestly didn’t know that many people at our school.

     Heather paused to think. “Jane Roberts, you know, the one in our first period.”

     “Really?” I tried to match the name with a face. A sweet, round faced girl came to mind, with long, brunette hair.

     “Yeah, but I haven’t got the details yet. I’ll ask her in class.”

     “Alright,” I replied, noting that my locker was coming up. Once we arrived, I shoved my backpack into the compacted space, and grabbed my supplies for my US History Class. “So how was your weekend?”

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