Practicum

"Chill out, girl!" Kris interrupted. "Look, I know Robbie used to be your friend, but he's way too trusting. And Stephanie's right, he did look uptight today."

"Of course he did, it's almost midsems," Cherie said. "Who isn't nervous about those?"

"I'm not," Stephanie said. "This place is a cakewalk. Besides, Robbie might be a moron, but he's an A student. Why'd he be nervous?"

"It's because he gets so wound up that he gets all those A's," Cherie explained more patiently than she felt. "He's under a lot of pressure back home to get good grades, and he's not like us, it doesn't come naturally to him. He told me all about it back before...back when we were friends. Before the suitcase incident. He had a rough time of it back in middle school, he was a slacker and probably barely got into Spinard. So he doesn't want a repeat of that."

"Poor baby," Stephanie needled. "But I'm still betting it was thinking of the practicum that had him so uptight today. He wouldn't even look at me, after all."

"I saw that too!" Kris agreed, joining in on Stephanie's laughter. "It's like, what, you think we're invisible? In sex class of all things?!"

Cherie was still fishing for a polite way to remind them both that Robbie never looked at any of them when he could help it, when a knock on the door brought the conversation to an abrupt halt. Stephanie got up and opened the door to see Cathy, the campus security officer, in the doorway. "Stephanie," she said in a no-nonsense voice without a greeting, "I'll need you to come with me, please."

"What's wrong?" Stephanie took down her coat from the hook on the door and gestured for Kris and Cherie to get lost. "Is my mother okay?"

"I'm sure your mother is fine," Cathy said. "And I'm sure you'll be able to get her on the phone to get your rear end out of this one, just like you always do."

"Excuse me?"

"Just come with me, Stephanie. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

As Cathy gripped Stephanie by the arm and led her down the hall, Cherie and Kris looked on nervously. "We're dead," Cherie gulped as soon as the stairway door had swung shut behind them.

"No," Kris replied. "You don't even know she's in trouble, or if it's about Robbie. And even if it is, what did we do?"

"Nothing, but that doesn't matter," Cherie said. "It never does, with her."

Cathy led Stephanie to Old Main, the campus administrative building, and led her up the stairs to Dr. Kartz' office. He was waiting by the door when his secretary, Stacey, ushered them in. "Thank you, Cathy," he said. "You may go." Stephanie looked around to see only Mrs. Simpkins, the head librarian, looking at her from the couch under the window, with her usual stern look on her face as if Stephanie had an overdue book under her coat. "Have a seat, Stephanie," Dr. Kartz said.

"Is everything all right?" Stephanie asked. "And when is someone going to tell me why I got dragged down here? Don't you dare tell me it's about that stupid comment Kris and Cherie made to Robbie the other day!" She flopped down in the chair in front of Dr. Kartz' desk, doing her best to look angst-ridden. "I could've told them that was inappropriate!"

"Cherie and Kris, you say?" Dr. Kartz looked at her across the desk and over his glasses, with only a sidelong glance at Mrs. Simpkins, who did not look impressed at all.

"Yeah, they made this silly comment to Robbie the other day -- I think Cherie just hasn't forgiven him for the suitcase incident, frankly, Dr. Kartz."

"They made..."

"Yes, I keep telling Cherie, geez, get over it already, it was three years ago. But some kids just can't let go of anything. Dr. Kartz, you know what girls are like. And by the way, what is Mrs. Simpkins doing here anyway?" Turning to the older woman, she added, "I'm sorry you had to be dragged over here for this. Isn't it supposed to be a student's housemother who gets summoned if she's accused of something?"

"We couldn't do that in your case, Stephanie, because your housemother was involved in the accusation," Dr. Kartz explained.

"Beth is accused, too? Well, I don't know anything about that, Dr. Kartz!" Stephanie folded her arms. "Besides, I'm not crazy about her, but I can't imagine she'd be in on a stunt like what Kris and Cherie suggested."

"No, Stephanie," Dr. Kartz said, shaking his head. "Beth isn't accused of anything, unless we find out this comment you say Cherie and Kris made came from her somehow."

"Well, I wouldn't put it past her," Stephanie said.

"That's enough, Stephanie!" Mrs. Simpkins had finally had enough. "Beth is not the accused here; you are! And you had best stop interrupting Dr. Kartz!"

"Thank you, Eleanor," Dr. Kartz said, inadvertently divulging to Stephanie one of the great mysteries of Spinard; for decades no student had ever been privy to Mrs. Simpkins' first name. Not even Robbie, whom Stephanie knew she adored like her own grandson. "Now, Stephanie, I'm afraid I've had to get in touch with your mother about this."

"Not that!" Privately delighted, Stephanie feigned panic. "Dr. Kartz, do you have any idea how tired she is of being called in on stuff like this when it was really those creeps Cherie and Kris?! I can hear her already, 'Why do you let them follow you around like the puppies they are?!' And I'm starting to wonder, too!"

"Perhaps you should have asked yourself that three years ago, Stephanie," Dr. Kartz suggested. "In any event..." he paused and looked at his computer screen. "I see Stacey has your mother on hold now." He pressed the speaker button on his telephone. "Karen!" he called out.

"Hello, Roy," came Stephanie's mother's voice.

"I'm terribly sorry to bother you like this, but there has been a serious accusation involving Stephanie."

There was a heavy sigh on the speaker. "Those brats again. Cherie and..."

"Kris," Stephanie added. "Hi, Mom."

"Stephanie, how many times have I told you to keep your distance from those troublemakers?"

"I know, Mom, but they won't take no for an answer! It's like they're a couple of leeches, they just have to hang on to my coattails or something! And it's only three months to graduation anyway."

"Yes, yes, I know," her mother allowed. "Now, what did they do this time, Dr. Kartz?"

"Well," Dr. Kartz began, with a sidelong glance at Mrs. Simpkins as if he wished she would leave the room. When she made no move to get up, he turned back to the phone and plowed ahead. "I'm afraid they've started a rumor that our human sexuality class includes a...a practicum."

"Oh, for the love of God, Roy!"

"I know, I know, Karen, I'm sorry. In any event, there's a boy in the class whom Cherie tricked into something very embarrassing freshman year --"

"The suitcase incident," Stephanie's mother interrupted. "I bailed that brat Cherie out of that, but she didn't learn, obviously."

"Right, that. We think she was trying to get back at him for that, and she told him he'd have to sleep with the teacher. We don't think he believed her, but there's a girl in that class with a sort of communicative disability, and it seems she did believe it, and..."

"And Stephanie was collateral damage yet again."

"It looks that way, Karen. The girl came to a faculty member and said Stephanie was telling the other students about this silly practicum. Normally we'd just tell the kids to ignore it, but we're talking sex with a teacher here, so I couldn't just let that go by."

"Roy."

"Yes, Karen?"

Stephanie had to force herself not to let her lips curl into a smile as her mother recited the line, or to mouth the words herself: "My daughter would never do a thing like that!"

"That's what she tells me, Karen, and --"

"And you believe her, I'm sure! Don't you?"

"Well, of course I do, but --"

"Good! Now Stephanie?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"For the last time, I want you to stay away from those girls! Do I make myself clear?!"

"Yes, Mother."

"We'll see to it that she does, Karen," Dr. Kartz said. "They'll be on probation for the rest of the year for this, under strict orders to leave Stephanie and Robbie both alone."

"I should hope so, Roy! Will that be all? I have a benefit dinner to get to, I'm afraid."

"Yes, of course, Karen. Will we be seeing you for the next alumni reception?"

"Of course you will, Roy. With a nice fat check as usual."

Stephanie was nearly sure she could sense her mother winking at Dr. Kartz. But he showed no sign of noticing. After he had said his goodbyes to her mother, he said to Stephanie, "You're free to go. But I order you not to go back to your dorm for at least the next hour. We'll need to collect Kris and Cherie, and you don't want to be around for that."

"Maybe I do want to," Stephanie said, standing up. "They almost got me in a lot of trouble here, didn't they?"

"Stephanie!" Mrs. Simpkins snapped. "You heard the man. Do not go back to your room for now. That's an order!"

"Whatever," Stephanie grumbled, and she let herself out.

Privately, though, she agreed with them both: she did not want to be there to see Kris and Cherie get picked up. They'd been with her since freshman year; she had no desire to be there at what she knew would be the moment their friendship came to a crashing halt. What an awful shame it had to end this way! But what other options did she have? She had tried to think of something else -- anything else -- all the way over to Old Main on Cathy's arm. But she was all out of tricks. It would be an uncomfortable last few months, but she expected to be too busy to waste any time missing them anyway.

What did hurt was that now she knew the ruse with that jerk Robbie had failed. It was worth a try.

The next day, Beth was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to treat Robbie the same as all the other students as they wrapped up the intimate grooming unit. He did look adorable as usual in his school-issue white shirt and navy-blue pants, and his quiet politeness was endearing as ever as Randy and Chad and the others mouthed off as usual; but Beth had no trouble keeping her impure thoughts at bay as she led the class discussion.

She had no such ease in masking her contempt for Stephanie. But she did manage to keep a straight face when Stephanie took her turn to pontificate on why attacking other women's grooming decisions wasn't sexist at all. "It's for their own good, if you ask me, Beth," she explained. "Feminism is so intolerant, sometimes it's got women not even knowing their own minds. It's up to us sisters to set their heads on straight again, and that's all women like me are doing when we say, hey, gross, get a Brazilian already."

Beth couldn't resist looking next to Cherie and Kris, who had been shuffled to the last row. "Cherie? Kris? You haven't spoken up today. Do you agree with Stephanie?"

"Yeah, I guess," Kris said, fixating on Beth, who suspected she was trying to avoid giving Stephanie the death-glare she deserved. "It's just a matter of wanting to look good so you feel good, I guess."

"You guess," Beth replied. "Then you're not sure?"

"I am," Cherie piped up. "And I don't agree with her. It's a personal decision. You've got to think about what you want, instead of doing what someone else tells you that you ought to do." On that point, she did glare at Stephanie, who of course looked straight ahead and never knew.

"Excellent attitude, Cherie," Beth said.

"Uh!" Stephanie snapped, still looking only at Beth rather than back at her former friend. "Beth, you just agreed with her insulting me!"

"I wouldn't put it that way, Stephanie," Beth said. "You have one opinion, she has another, and she expressed that opinion very well. It doesn't necessarily mean I agree with her."

"You do, though, don't you?" demanded Randy. "You think women ought to let it all hang out with the natural look?"

"If they want to, yes," Beth said. "But only if they want to." Before things could get further out of hand, she continued, "That's what I want you all to take away from this lesson: there's no wrong answer and no single standard of beauty. People like different things, both for themselves and their partners. So in the future, if someone tells you to change something as fundamental as your pubic hair or else you're disgusting, perhaps you don't want to have sex with them!"

That made most of the class laugh, but Beth was very much aware that Stephanie and Cherie were exceptions.

She also knew why, for all of Cherie and Kris' teachers had been briefed that morning on the situation: the girls were suspected of violating the school's code of conduct by spreading a potentially career-destroying rumor about a teacher. Stephanie had been aware of it, and as usual she had done the right thing, bringing the scandal to the administration's attention. As a result, she had to be kept apart from Cherie and Kris lest they attempt some sort of revenge. The briefing had not included any information on just what the rumor was or who the teacher was; but thanks to Coach Stone, Beth knew.

Beth knew Cherie and Kris had been implicated in a stunt that could have destroyed her career. She also knew that Stephanie was the real culprit, but she had no choice but to obey the directive to keep a watchful eye on the little bitch's former friends. And so when she called an end to class, she dutifully asked Kris and Cherie to her desk so she could sign their attendance cards verifying that they had been to class. That was a standard procedure for students under investigation, but it had the added benefit of giving Stephanie a chance to get out of the room without any confrontation with her ex-friends.

"Beth, I know you've got to do this," Cherie said in a shaky, near-tears voice as she watched the teacher sign her card. "But I want you to know we didn't do it!"

"We were there when Steph said it, but we didn't say anything!" Kris added.

"You could have said it wasn't true," Beth told them. Though she knew they were the real victims, she had spent most of the night before wide awake, staring at the ceiling and thinking of the trouble she could have gotten in if the rumor had taken hold, and her sympathies were limited.

"Beth!" Kris snapped. "We couldn't --"

"She's right, Kris," Cherie interrupted. "We should've told Robbie it was nonsense." To Beth she added, "I'm really sorry we didn't. But I just want you to know who really was responsible here."

"I do know," Beth said. "And thank you. But you've both had three years to learn what a troublemaker Stephanie is, haven't you? And to know how good she is at scapegoating others for her pranks? Honestly, I'm just surprised she didn't throw you under the bus sooner."

At this, Cherie burst into tears. Beth felt her resolve melting in spite of herself. "Oh, Cherie," she said, putting her arms around the girl. "I remember what it's like for friends at your age. You don't want to give up on them no matter what and you don't want to be the odd one out at school."

"Then you forgive us?" Cherie sobbed.

"Let's just say I'm trying to, okay? Cherie, Kris, you could have cost me my job if certain people had believed Stephanie's comments, maybe even landed me in jail. I know you didn't do it, but I also know you had the chance to say it wasn't true and you didn't!"

"We never imagined Robbie would believe it, Beth!" Kris said. "He's not stupid, and he knows Stephanie."

"Robbie didn't believe it," Beth said. "But he wasn't the only one who heard Stephanie."

Cherie and Kris looked at one another, and understood. No one mentioned Jane's name; there was no need to. "Oh, God, should've known," Kris admitted.

"Yes, Kris, you should have," Beth said. "But I know you meant no harm. I hope that will suffice for you as far as forgiving is concerned."

"It will," Cherie said. "Should've ditched Steph years ago."

The bell rang. "Oops, you'll be late for your next class," Beth said. "Here, I'll write you both a note." She scribbled down an explanation on the top sheet on her pad of personalized stationery -- reading "A Note From Beth" in garish lavender script across the top. All the teachers and students alike had received them from the administration the previous Christmas, and in keeping with Spinard's progressive approach, the boys' and girls' notes were decorated with the same floral-and-leaves design. The color of the script was the only difference, and there was no rhyme or reason when it came to gender. Kris' was red while Cherie's was green, which she loathed. Stephanie's, which was always turning up on their room doors with passive-aggressive requests of every sort, was the worst shade of princess pink.

Beth tore the note off and handed it to Kris. "Here you are, girls."

"Thank you, Beth," they said in dispirited unison, and they were off to lit.

Halfway down the hall, while Kris was still ranting and sniffling, Cherie admired the color of Beth's name on the paper. "I wish I got lavender instead of green," she said...and then she noticed that Beth had torn off two sheets from her pad. "Hey, we got a blank one!" she said, peeling it away from the note. "Say..."

"Say what?" Kris asked. "You want a souvenir of Beth all of a sudden?"

"No," Cherie said. "But I have an idea. Do you still have any of the notes Steph gave us, on her stationery? The 'a note from Stephanie' pad?"

"I must have a couple lying around," Kris said. "I'll probably line my panties with them on my next period, that seems fitting."

Cherie laughed, but then said, "No, save at least one."

"Why?"

They were at the door of lit, and class had already begun. "I'll explain later," Cherie said.

Cherie had been sure Kris would insist her idea would never work. But when she finally explained it that evening in her room, Kris offered up no resistance at all. "I love it!" she declared.

"You do?" Cherie made no effort to hide her surprise. "I was sure you would just insist it'd never work."

"Well, I'm sure her mother will just say 'My daughter would never do that,' but Kartz isn't that stupid. Really, I don't think there's any chance of us getting her in any real trouble. I just think it'd feel good to know we tried."

"I think maybe we can," Cherie countered. "I have an idea about that, actually."

"What's that?"

"It's better that you don't know," Cherie said. "Remember, I'm already on Kartz's naughty list because of the suitcase incident."

Kris gave her friend an annoyed look, but didn't push the matter. "Well, okay. The only thing I don't understand is, how do we get the note to Robbie? He won't buy it coming from either of us, that's for sure! We can mail it in a plain paper envelope with just his name and box number on it, but he won't believe it came from Beth then."

"I think I know someone who will help us," Cherie said.

"And you're not going to tell me that either," Kris said.

"No," Cherie said. "You're better off if you don't know. Now let's get to work."

Kris had, as promised, found a few of Stephanie's old notes to her in her room. Cherie had found several as well, and together they had enough to copy nearly every letter of the alphabet in Stephanie's annoyingly unique, curly handwriting. Cherie having stowed the precious blank Note From Beth away in her rarely-touched political science textbook, they spent the next hour practicing Stephanie's handwriting. First letters, then words, and finally the entire brief note Kris had spent the afternoon going over in her head.

After three drafts each, they both agreed that Cherie's forgery was a bit more convincing. Cherie cleared off her desk except for the computer that had the text typed out for her reference, and Kris handed the blank note to her. "Here goes nothing," she said.

"Here goes revenge," Cherie corrected. "Three years of being her lapdog was quite enough, thank you." Slowly, painstakingly, with Kris hanging back on her bed to avoid making her nervous, Cherie scrawled out the request in a hand that looked absolutely nothing like Beth's own -- they had the comments she had written on their papers to confirm that -- but passably like Stephanie's.