(Author's Note: Except for some editing, this episode was written by the ChatGPT AI generator.)
Tammy didn’t think.
She just moved.
One moment, she was frozen in horror at the classroom doorway, the next she was charging straight down the aisle, her designer flats pounding against the tile floor, the silk of her blouse catching the light as she lunged.
Cindy had been aiming the ring - directly at one of the few remaining boys in the room, her lips curled in smug satisfaction.
Not on Tammy’s watch.
"NO!" Tammy screamed.
She crashed into Cindy just as her hand began to glow, slapping her wrist aside. The beam of light that should have triggered another transformation fizzled into nothing, harmless as it hit the wall.
Gasps echoed around the classroom. One girl yelped. Another dropped her lip gloss.
And then, chaos.
Cindy shrieked and grabbed at Tammy, trying to push her away. "You psycho!"
Tammy didn’t care. She tackled Cindy to the floor, nails digging at her hand, trying desperately to pry the ring off. "You don’t know what you’re doing! You’re ruining people’s lives!"
"They love it!" Cindy snapped, laughing as she fought back. "You’re just jealous I’m better at using it than you ever were."
The room exploded with noise. The new girls (Zoey, Lexa, Britty, and others) shouted in support of Cindy.
"Get off her!"
"She’s just mad because she’s not the queen anymore!"
"Ugh, so embarrassing ..."
They liked Cindy. She made them beautiful, flirty, powerful. And they couldn’t understand why Tammy (pretty Tammy, who was halfway like them) would go against their queen.
But Tammy wasn’t like them.
Not really.
She still had Tommy inside her. The empathy. The clarity. The memory of what the world was supposed to be like.
And she’d be damned if she let this power stay in the hands of someone like Cindy.
"Enough!" shouted a voice, sharp and commanding.
Ms. Reynolds had snapped out of her usual flirty daze, striding toward the brawl in those dangerous heels, her blouse still threatening to pop a button with every step. "Girls, break it up, now! This is a classroom, not a soap opera!"
She snapped her fingers, then turned to two of the other hot girls near the front. "Lexa. Kenzie. Get them apart. Now."
Lexa and Kenzie blinked, then grimaced in unison. "But, like ... what if we chip a nail?"
"Do it!" the teacher barked.
With the hesitancy of someone being asked to carry a wet dog, the girls knelt down and half-heartedly pulled at Cindy and Tammy, separating them just enough to break the scuffle.
Cindy’s hair was a mess now. Her lip gloss smeared slightly. But her smile was sharp and unbothered. She waved the hand with the ring just out of reach.
Tammy, panting, her skirt slightly askew, looked up at Ms. Reynolds. "You have to take that ring from her! She’s dangerous!"
But Ms. Reynolds just gave her a sharp glare. "You two can explain yourselves to the principal. Now."
"But ...!"
"Not another word," she snapped. "Both of you. Principal’s office."
Tammy clenched her fists, her heart still racing. Cindy stood slowly, smoothing out her skirt and smirking as if she hadn’t just been tackled.
"You’re gonna regret this," Tammy muttered under her breath as they walked out side-by-side.
"I already don’t," Cindy whispered back sweetly. "And neither will the rest of this school ... once I’m done with them."
------
In the sunlit corner of the Advanced Art classroom, Mikey sat quietly with his paintbrush hovering just above the canvas, unmoving. The usual joy he and Jonny found in blending colors, sketching bold strokes, or crafting whimsical murals had dulled into a haze of frustration.
Jonny, beside him, let out a dramatic sigh and dropped his pencil. "I swear, if I hear one more giggle followed by an 'Ugh, look at those two,' I’m going to glue someone’s glitter pen shut."
Mikey didn’t laugh like he normally would. He just shook his head. "What is this school’s problem?"
Across the room, two girls were whispering with two other girls, all four of them part of the popular crowd (meaning, they were "followers" of Cindy Robinson), eyes occasionally flicking toward the boys. Their conversations were littered with mocking laughter, insincere hair flips, and sneaky little eye-rolls. The mean girl energy filled the room like perfume - sweet-smelling, but toxic.
Jonny narrowed his eyes at them. "What happened to just ... letting people be? I didn’t wake up today to get side-eyed over my eyeliner, thanks."
"I miss when being different didn’t mean being target practice," Mikey murmured. "It’s like every girl in the 'in-crowd' suddenly turned into some kind of stylized Mean Barbie. And not even the fun kind."
"Well, except Tammy Vale," Jonny said. "I mean, she doesn’t really talk to us, but she doesn’t laugh at us either. I’ve heard she has two gay dads. And she’s like ... cool about stuff. She’s not like the rest of them."
Mikey tilted his head. "You think she’d talk to us?"
Jonny shrugged. "Couldn’t hurt to try. Maybe if she’s on our side, the others will back off."
"Or," Mikey added with a half-smile. "Maybe she’ll just be the first person in this school who doesn’t treat us like decorations at a pity party."
They sat in silence for a moment, letting the thought hang there like a cautious hope.
Then Jonny leaned in and whispered "Should we invite her to sit with us at lunch?"
Mikey considered it, then nodded. "Yeah. I mean ... what’s the worst that could happen?"
Neither of them realized just how much Tammy needed that connection right now. And neither knew they had once been the closest of friends.
But maybe, just maybe, something old could begin again.
Sat Sep 20 16:32:57 2025
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