Supernova

Three | Shiela Allen

"So did you do well?" Shiela Allen, senior and model-esque and popular, shoved herself off one of the pillars that supported the school bridge where she had waited for her best friend—well, no. Technically not her best friend, for Shiella Allen chose to operate alone. "Did you kick their butts and get yourself that writer position or something?"

Madison Ellsworth, ultimate Shiela sidekick, shoved some papers inside her fading shoulder bag before responding. "I don’t think I made team captain," she said bitterly. "But there was this freshman who was so desperate to get in the team, she plagiarized Ezra Pound. It's outrageous."

"Really?" Shiela asked, picking up her things from the nearby bench where she had left them. "That's low of her."

"Yeah. Good thing I saw it--Mrs. P was ready to forever damage me by writing her name under the Literary team writers this afternoon."

They walked across the wide quadrangle, and not until they reached the cafeteria on the other side did Shiela catch something. It was a rare occurrence for Madison to be involved in anything major, and the fact that she turned a freshman in surprised Shiela a little. "Wait, you saw it? You turned her in? Maddie, I don't even know who this Pound somebody is. Let alone her works."

"I wouldn't expect you to. I don't even know her."

"Then how did you--?"

"Did a little research.” Madison shrugged. “I couldn't let a freshman get a spot on my team—” It wasn’t her team, but Shiela let her finish, “—so I volunteered to transfer all the apps from the journalism office to the library this afternoon, nicked Penelope’s for a second, and fed all her mediocre submissions to my wonderful pet called the Internet. One of them, luckily, spewed 'A Girl' by Ezra Pound out."

Shiela pretended to think about this as they walked, but halfway through Madison’s speech her head was already somewhere else, for she found no other interesting thing about the matter. But she was in a particularly good mood today, so she felt like responding to Madison with the rare BFF enthusiasm. "Evil of you,” she said, but it sounded more like a compliment. “What's her name?"

"Penelope Summers."

At this, Shiela halted her steps. "I know her," she said. "No, I mean I don't know her, but I've read one of her short stories in last year's second issue of TGA, and it was really. . ." She had been about to say 'good', because it had been, but she didn't think that would be ideal guessing from the look on Madison's face. And because of Shiela’s sense of generosity today, she actually minded that Madison would get upset. ". . . really bad. Poorly written. Lots of adjectives."

Madison tilted her head higher, as if to console her wounded pride, her brows furrowing. "The Golden Apple's been infiltrated with pretentious wannabe's," she muttered, and Shiela honestly didn’t care about these pretentious wannabes, but she knew better than to cut in. When it came to the school publication, The Golden Apple, Shiela stepped back and let Madison have her spotlight. It was the only place the latter had the upperhand in. "Anyway, why don't I see a Kyle tailing after you like a pup?"

"He's with Dylan. They have play rehearsals," Shiela answered, glad of the topic change. She, however, noted the sour expression that Madison wore after the utterance of her ex's name; Madison and Dylan had broken up for more than a year now, but the poor girl didn't seem to have moved on.

"It's like Kyle's dating Dylan and not you," Madison said, obviously trying to transfer even just a bit of sullenness to Shiela.

"Shut it, Maddie," the other chided, and Madison kept quiet at once.

Tolerance could only go as far, even on Shiela Allen’s generous days.