Oh God! That smell! As I sat on the closed toilet seat, I wondered why people always left restrooms in a mess.

I was so busy worrying about the restroom crisis in every school that I barely heard the creak of the door, as it opened. But as someone sniffed, I froze.

It seemed like someone had failed their test. When the stall door’s thud signaled a clear way out, I quickly unlocked my stall, and went to wash my hands. But I was clearly not quick enough as another stall door opened, and my eyes collided with the crying eyes of the last person I expected to be crying: Macy Williams.

Yes, it was hard to imagine Macy crying when it was her job to make others cry. Macy and I had been best friends two years — a lifetime — ago, before high school had happened, and she became the ‘diva’ while I was left behind as a ‘nerd’. However, the Macy who stood beside me, was completely different — red-rimmed eyes, dishevelled hair and lips tight in frustration. She angled her head and continued studying me, but I made quick work of washing my hands before placing them under the dryer.

“Do you stay here at lunch time often,” she began sharply before softening her voice, “Because of … me?”

Because of how you treated me like a low-life and laughed cruelly at my thrift-store-bought clothes was more like it, I thought.

Never the one to make snide comments, I remained quiet but Macy spoke again, “Or is it because of Abel?”

The door shutting behind me as I left was my only answer.

But if I were being honest with myself, my change in lunchtime activities was because of Abel; the new girl who had everyone in the claws of her parents’ money. Macy’s constant snapping had never degraded me, but Abel only had to make fun of my deceased mother and I took off before I could do any bodily harm – if only in my mind.

Those thoughts, along with those of revenge, were running through my mind when I literally ran into someone. With an apology on my tongue, I looked once again at Macy. Before I could have made my way around her, I was being dragged to an empty classroom.

“What is wrong with you, Macy?” I all but shouted at her as she locked the door.

Raising her hands in surrender, she spoke quickly, “I know … I know you hate me, and I deserve to burn in hell, but please hear me once. Just once … please …” she trailed off. The desperation in her voice stopped me short and I gave up trying to escape from this conversation.

A hint of surprise registered on Macy’s face at my sudden willingness before she shifted against the door and asked, “You were hiding in the washroom because of Abel, right?”

I waited until I was leaning against the teacher’s desk, and reluctantly nodded, so she continued, “Well, in the lunchroom today, that piece of garbage called me ‘Miss Fatty-pants’ when I was not eating only because I had a stomach ache, not a diet plan!” she practically shouted the last part, and my lips twitched with amusement as she fumed with anger.

I took my time thinking before asking sweetly, “And how exactly can I, the ‘nerd’, be of help to your majesty?”

She looked embarrassed but replied, “I want revenge, and I know you do too. Besides, she is in your English class.”

Processing her offer, I asked, “Why?”

“Because as bad as I may be, I would never make fun of aunty,” it enough of an answer for me, so we planned.

It took us about a week’s worth of meetings before we had a solid plan without any loopholes. The plan was merely to satisfy our revenge cravings, and both of us knew Abel would go on taunting us.

Once all arrangements were made, Macy went to her science class while I took my seat – right behind Abel’s. It wasn’t long before Abel came sauntering into the room with her entourage and the teacher behind her. Just as we had hoped, a few minutes after sitting down, our teacher called Abel to the front of the class.

Abel stood, or tried to, and failed. A little too much force and the glue- that someone had accidentally dropped on her chair tore her clothes, right at the bottom. The class roared with laughter while Abel flushed red with embarrassment. I couldn’t help, but feel a little satisfied as the teacher guided Abel outside.

Later in the day, Macy and I doubled over laughing, recalling the events that had become the school’s news of the day. As we looked at each other with tears in our eyes, I thought, ‘Maybe we could be friends again. Or maybe just acquaintances – with awesome plans.’

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 24th, 2021