Bad Girls, Bad Girls, Whatcha Gonna Do? Read Online Free Page B

the crowded room. Shawn Macavity explained to Heather as they left that it would be a better career move for him to take Martial Arts, no matter what the teacher said. “These days you have to know karate moves, you know? To get work,” he added, in case she didn’t follow his reasoning.
    Only thirty-four people remained in the room. Ms. Hendriks looked around at them eagerly, saying, “Before you come to get your books, we should get acquainted.” She came to the edge of the platform and sat down on it, making everyone almost equal.
    Margalo and Hadrian were the only ninth graders in the group.
    â€œYou already know my name and my theatrical experience,” Ms. Hendriks said. “It’s your turn now to tell me about yourselves. Who wants to start off?”
    Neither Margalo nor Hadrian volunteered.

– 3 –
At the Bottom of the Pecking Order
    â€œW here’s Hadrian?” Casey looked up from a copy of Murder Must Advertise. “Lunch is half over and—have any of you seen Hadrian?”
    It was the fourth Friday of ninth grade, and certain concerns were beginning to establish themselves, like seedlings taking root. Hadrian was just such an established concern, right up there with grades and boy/girl-friends. Less major were: Louis Caselli’s chances of passing any of his courses in the first marking period; what was wrong with Tanisha Harris; Rhonda Ransom’s mother refusing to let her daughter take sex education because that was something a child should learn at home (“And we all know what that means,” Cassie remarked); whether Ralph had really copied his History report off the Internet and, then, if he’d get caught; and—back to sex, many things got back to sex—why theschool thought ninth grade needed to start off the year with sex ed. But nobody wanted to talk about that.
    Nobody, also, knew where Hadrian was. They had all been looking up occasionally at the door, or glancing around at the edges of the room for a scurrying figure in case they had missed his entry. All now included not only the usual—Mikey and Margalo, Casey, Cassie and Jace—but also two new lunch companions. Tenth graders. Boys. Tim had joined Casey one lunch to continue his attempts to talk her into changing her mind about accepting one of the submissions to the literary magazine (he had succeeded in this) and then had fallen into a ridiculous and, he claimed, useful discussion with Margalo about the “Dear Stella” advice column in the school newspaper, which he wrote, along with occasional op-ed pieces. The next day he had been back, and with him his friend Felix—one of those skinny, long-haired boys whose shoelaces are often untied. Felix claimed to be a photographer, although he never had a camera with him at school because he didn’t want it ripped off and he didn’t take Photography or any other Art course because he didn’t want anybody messing with his talent.
    Not one of them, for all the looking, had seen Hadrian Klenk that lunch period.
    Margalo gave voice to their concern. “He’s taking a long time getting here today.”
    â€œEverything in ninth grade is taking a long time,” Mikeypointed out. The tennis coach hadn’t spoken to her except to assign her to one court or another for drills.
    â€œProbably he’s spooking around somewhere—in the library?—waiting for a chance to bolt for the cafeteria,” Jace suggested.
    â€œWho are those goons anyway?” Margalo asked Tim and Felix. “Do you know them? Are they in your class?”
    â€œNo, they’re eleventh graders, they did the same kind of things to some of us last year. It’s—”
    He was interrupted by the arrival of Ronnie Caselli at their table. In the surprised silence that greeted her she pulled out a chair opposite Mikey and Margalo, Hadrian’s usual chair if she had known it.
    â€œHey everybody,”