Promise Me Something by Sara Kocek

cops over there to mistake you for prostitutes.” She pointed at a group of boys dressed as police officers.
    “ Excuse me? ” Gretchen was clearly itching for a fight. “Put down your pitchfork, loser, and apologize for that.”
    Olive just laughed.
    “I said apologize , Olive Garden.”
    “Olive,” I said, poking her in the side. “This is stupid. Let’s go.”
    But she ignored me. “I’m not apologizing,” she told Gretchen. “ You apologize.”
    Gretchen grabbed one of her friends by the arm and stepped closer. “Do you want a fight? Because we’re not afraid of a couple of dykes.”
    Anger flashed across Olive’s face. “What did you just call us?”
    “You heard me—dykes. And what are you doing with that pitchfork anyway? You can’t bring weapons to school.”
    “The better to stab you with,” Olive muttered.
    Suddenly, without any warning, Gretchen faked an expression of terror. “Help!” She shrieked. “Help! The farm girls just threatened me with a weapon! Help!”
    In an instant, Mr. Mancuzzi materialized with an entourage of security guards. They pulled the pitchfork out of Olive’s hands and demanded my brooch with its pointy edges. The parade, which had been circling the gym, dissipated, and throngs of gypsies, zombies, and disco pimps ran toward us. As a security guard demanded that I empty my pockets, Levi Siegel showed up.
    “Reyna!” he called, shoving his way through the crowd. “What’s going on?”
    Gretchen didn’t give me a chance to answer him. “These freaks were threatening me,” she told Levi in full earshot of the teachers. “They should be suspended!”
    Levi frowned. “Reyna threatened you?”
    But before I could speak up, Mr. Mancuzzi stepped in and put a hand on Olive’s shoulder. “I want you in my office,” he said. “You too.” I felt a cool weight settle on my back, right below my neck.
    “Leave Reyna out of this,” said Olive. “She had nothing to do with it.”
    “She did too!” Gretchen looked around at all the teachers. “They both threatened me.”
    Olive gave her a murderous glare. “You can accuse me of whatever you want, Gretchen, but Reyna did nothing wrong.”
    “It’s true,” Levi told a security guard. “She’s an innocent bystander.”
    I opened my mouth to speak for myself, but there was no need—Mr. Mancuzzi let go of my shoulder. “Just Miss Barton,” he said impatiently. “In my office. Now.”
    Olive glanced at me, then turned stoically toward him like a man on death row.
    “Everybody back to the parade!” barked the security guard.
    “Olive,” I called. “Are you going to be—”
    “I’ll be fine.” Gritting her teeth, she followed Mr. Mancuzzi out of the gym as Gretchen and the rest of the slutty nurses turned on their heels and marched away.
    I couldn’t even process what had just happened. I felt faintly dizzy and took a few steps backward, looking for a spot on the bleachers where I could sit. That was when I felt Levi’s hand on my arm. “Are you OK?” he asked, leading me toward an open seat in the front row.
    “I guess,” I said, sitting down.
    He shook his head. “That girl’s been in at least one cat fight every year since kindergarten. It’s crazy.”
    “Who?” I asked. “Olive?”
    He laughed. “No, Gretchen.”
    “Oh.” I looked across the gym. She and her friends were now clustered around the bleachers on the other side, talking among themselves.
    “Olive doesn’t usually talk much,” said Levi. “I always thought she was shy.”
    I smiled. “She’s not shy at all.”
    “But you are.”
    My cheeks felt warm.
    “Anyway, you want to know a secret about Gretchen Palmer?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “She has eczema covering her entire stomach.”
    I felt my mouth open. “How—?”
    “Pool party,” he said. “Eighth grade.”
    I tried not to smile.
    “You want to walk in the parade together?”
    “Sure,” I said. But before we could even stand up, a teacher