Resentment

Amanda Saxton didn’t start out hating Jennie Chambers. They were nearly equal in every way. Jennie was pretty, but so was Amanda. Jennie excelled in academics, as did Amanda. Their fathers were in similar income brackets, although Amanda lived in a slightly poorer neighborhood just because it was the only way her parents could afford a big enough house for their sizeable family.

Every semester, the two girl’s academic achievements were like the two best horses running neck and neck on a racetrack. One semester, Amanda’s GPA might nose slightly ahead, but then in the next, Jennie would regain the lead, only to have them trade for first place again the following semester. At this point, one could not say who would be the Valedictorian of their high school’s graduating class. But, everyone knew it would be a photo finish between these two girls.

During the Fall Semester of their junior year, Jennie and Amanda were randomly assigned in their AP European History class to work on a joint research paper about the causes and consequences of the French Revolution. The paper was a semester-long project and would count for 25% of their final grade.

Amanda marveled at the size and splendor of Jennie’s house the first evening they worked on their paper together. It was a large two-story white colonial style home with faux Greek columns arranged in a semi-circle around the front door. It was Amanda’s first visit to Jennie’s house, as the girls ran in different social circles at school.

Jennie was an only child, and had a room of her own with a bed that was about the size of the room Amanda shared with one of her three sisters.

“There really isn’t enough room in here for this,” Jennie said after a few minutes of work. “Let’s just go to my office.”

They moved to another room with a large desk in it. Unlike Jennie’s bedroom, the walls of which were covered with pictures of teenage heartthrobs and a 52-inch TV, the walls of her ‘office’ were covered with pictures of Jennie’s horse, Scout, and a mere 32-inch TV.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Jennie said after she pulled another chair over next to the desk and opened her laptop. “I’ve got to keep my GPA up so that I can get into Stanford without going on the waitlist when I apply next year.”

“Is that where you are planning on going?” Amanda asked.

“Yeah, it’s got one of the best business schools in the nation.”

“Is that what you want to do? Business?”

“Oh yes! I want to be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company before I’m 40. I’m Vice-President of The Future Entrepreneurs of America at school. You should join. It looks good on your resume for college.”

Jennie hadn’t heard the contempt in Amanda’s voice.

“No thanks,” Amanda said. “I’m President of Students for Social Justice, and we do very important work.”

“Oh, that’s nice, I guess,” Jennie said. “Well, let’s get started!”

After about an hour and a half of discussing the outline of the paper, and deciding on research tasks, Amanda excused herself to go to the bathroom. Once finished, she walked back down the hall towards Jennie’s office. Halfway back, Amanda realized she could hear Jennie talking to someone. Amanda recognized the voice of Angie Dawson, and concluded Jennie was video-chatting online.

Angie was Jennie’s best friend, and “right-hand woman” in their group of friends at school. Angie’s father was richer than both Jennie’s and Amanda’s put together. Jennie was simply oblivious of Amanda and her friends, but Angie, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy making catty comments towards girls that weren’t in her clique at school.

“Yeah, she seems nice enough,” Amanda heard Jennie say.

Amanda stopped walking, realizing Jennie was talking about her.

“I’m really glad we were assigned to work on this paper together since she has a high GPA to protect too,” Jennie said. “I don’t have to worry about whether she will carry her own weight. She has as much to loose from a bad paper as me. You know, I never noticed it until today, but the two of you look alike.”

“Ugh! We’re both blonde, but that hardly means we look alike, and besides, I dress way better than her. The stuff she wears is always so out of date,” Amanda heard Angie reply over the Internet.

Amanda wished she could somehow magically reach through cyberspace and scratch Angie’s eyes out.

“Clothing is your hang-up, not mine,” Jennie said in response. “As long as she does her part on the assignment, she can wear a burlap sack, for all I care.”

“Well, your GPA is your hang-up!” Angie mocked, then changed the subject: “Anyway, what is going on with you and Avery Hanason?”

At the mention of this name, Amanda’s heart skipped a beat. Avery Hanason. Beautiful, perfect Avery Hanason. For a moment Amanda became lost in a few of her choicer memories of Avery.

She frequently called to mind these mental pictures, to the point that they were now burned into her consciousness like an image projected on a TV screen for too long. There was one of him studying intently at the library, and then brushing his hand through his blonde hair before diving back into a particularly tough math problem. There was another of him playing lacrosse, with his long, muscular legs pumping at full speed to get out ahead of the other team’s defense and score a goal. There was -.

Amanda suddenly had a sick feeling in her stomach, as she realized what Angie had meant by the question. Were Jennie and Avery dating?

“I just don’t know,” Jennie said in response to Angie’s question. “I’ve been dropping hints to him for the past week about how I need a date to homecoming, but he just doesn’t seem to get it.”

Amanda felt great relief when she heard this.

She hasn’t gotten her greedy claws into him yet, she thought, and then rebuked herself for having such a thought. She made a mental note to add this to her list of sins at her next confession.

Amanda realized she would need to add eavesdropping to that list, and continued walking down the hall, clearing her throat to signal her approach.

#

“Avery is so going to ask you to homecoming!” her friend Jill said to Amanda as she sat down next to her at lunch. Jill’s words were rapid, like a tape run at three times normal speed.

Complete Story Available here: https://www.amazon.com/Come-Read-Stories-Outside-Space-ebook/dp/B07D6FXKLT

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/908827