The election had been two days ago, and after the results were announced, Marina smiled weakly at her opponent and gave him a reluctant civil handshake. Her classmates could tell that she was upset though. Marina was somewhat cold to those in the room who she was sure voted against her. She was a strong-willed girl and did not show sadness about her defeat, but everybody knew that the results killed Marina.

Marla Tumbleduck was a rat of a girl, Nora thought. She had tried to steal Nora's boyfriend, she had tried to spread terrible lies about her, and she had made fun of Nora for taking classes like Portuguese Pottery, Medieval Architecture, and Nanotechnology for Ninnies. But Nora wouldn't let the evil Marla bother her today. No way! NO way! This was a golden day, and not even Marla's poison would ruin her rosy disposition. The other presentations had been stiff, and Nora tried to swallow the yawns that bubbled from her throat as she watched from her seat on the stage. It was after Morris Vandermop's slideshow on the hygiene of ancient Egyptians that Nora first noticed Marla saunter into the auditorium as if she was the very person who built it. Grrrr... Marla! MARLA! she thought. She could recognize that red nest of hair anywhere—even under the unmerciful oppression of stage lighting. Snap out of it, Nora! Nora ordered herself. No way! NO way! Not today! Marla Tumbleduck won't get under your skin! It was now Nora's turn to speak, and she sauntered to the podium as if she was the very one who built the auditorium, stage, and the podium! And before she spoke, she bowed slightly to the audience—a poetic gesture she was sure would win the audience's affections.

A Blast from the Past Owner Julian Reeves opened In Retrospect last Saturday, and Greenville can't seem to get enough vintage stuff. "I saw a need in our area for this kind of store," said Reeves. "I've got clothes that are 10 years old to 110 years old. You can't find fashions like these in shopping malls." Many customers agree. "I love my new blazer!" said Contessa Mathews, a Choctaw High School student. "While the other students in the locker hall at school look so similar in their ______ mall purchases, I stand out in a very good way." Quality vintage clothing goes even further than fashions. "I'm a fashionista and an environmentalist," said Greenville resident Clare Beckam, "so fashionable, ______ clothing from In Retrospect is such a blessing." Reeves is thrilled that the customers are so thrilled. "This is my first business venture, and I hope that In Retrospect will last as long as the clothes have," he said.

Melissa Heinz could breeze through a lot of things: cheerleading, talking on the phone, studying for tests, making straight-As, baking fudge brownies with her mom, and even putting up with her moody older brother! But one thing Melissa Heinz was never good at was chin-ups. In fact, she'd never been able to do any. Ever. Not three. Not two. Not even one! And so every year, as the rest of her class lined up to receive their yearly Presidential Fitness Awards, Melissa sat in the back of her PE class and cursed her skinny arms and scrawny muscles. "They're just pieces of paper," said her friends. "We don't even care about them." But Melissa knew her friends were just blowing smoke. After all, those "pieces of paper" all rested in nice, gold frames in their rooms, next to their Field Day ribbons and Science Fair trophies. And while Melissa had plenty of the last two, she wished just once that she could get one of those silly "pieces of paper." If only to make herself proud. A couple of weeks before that year's Presidential Fitness Day, Melissa started training. Usually, things came easy to her. Like math. Or brownies. But every once in awhile, Melissa found something that was just out of her reach. This time, it was chin-ups! Long after her friends had finished their homework and were nestled in front of Must-See-TV with a big bowl of popcorn and a frosty root beer, Melissa crept into her backyard and grabbed hold of the lowest branch of the old oak tree. It was just about the height of that darn chin-up bar on the PE field at school, and when she wore her mother's gardening gloves (the ones with the miniature carrots all over them), she could barely feel the bark beneath her straining hands. Night after night, week after week, Melissa strained and stretched her scrawny little arms to pull her determined chin all the way up to the top of that branch. And night after night, week after week, her muscles got a little stronger, and her chin grew a little closer, but she never got quite far enough. By the time Presidential Fitness Day rolled around again, Melissa realized that she would never do a chin-up, even after all that practice. But still she participated in all of the other events, completing the requirements for sit-ups and push-ups, jogging and sprinting. Her friends joshed and laughed about how this would be her year, but still Melissa didn't believe them. As friend after friend left the chin-up bar to a round of applause and plenty of congratulations, Melissa waited in line and hoped and prayed she would be up to the challenge. Finally, it was her turn, and Melissa reached up gamely to do her best. Amazingly, she found that the bark felt cool and firm beneath her grasp, unlike the bark and gardening glove mixture from home Petrified of P.E. by Rusty Fischer

Ramona and Beverly were the best of friends. They roamed the halls of Smithside Elementary School arm in arm, and rode their bikes to and from school together every single day. They passed notes constantly, and never went anywhere apart, except maybe to sleep at night. Ramona and Beverly told each other everything, from what they were wearing to school each morning to what they were wearing to bed! They trusted each other completely and never ever told each other a lie. And then, one day, stretching the truth about a simple party invitation threatened to stretch the very limits of their friendship. It all started when Missy Limburger, the newest girl in class, wanted to conduct a little experiment with the two best friends, and so she devised a plan to put their friendship to the test, and almost ruined it for good. "Oh Ramona," said Missy, catching her outside in the hall during a rare occasion when Beverly was absent from school and Ramona was feeling bummed. "I’m throwing a party this weekend. All the kids will be there, but I only had enough invitations to invite you. So Beverly won’t be coming. Will that be a problem?" Ramona regarded the new girl and thought it would be fun to go to her party, just for something new to do. She knew Beverly’s grandmother was coming into town this weekend anyway, and would keep her occupied. So she agreed. "One more thing," added Missy before walking away haughtily. "You can’t tell Beverly, or you’ll hurt her feelings." Ramona nodded. The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt Beverly’s feelings. The next day, Missy told the very same story to Beverly! Beverly agreed to come to the party, only because she knew Ramona was helping her little brother build a tree house and would be too occupied to worry about some stupid party. Also, it would give her a chance to escape her feisty grandmother! And so, the two friends didn’t exactly lie to each other about their weekend plans. They simply decided to skirt the issue. But on Friday, Missy unleashed the worst part of her plan. She told Beverly that Ramona had asked that Beverly not be invited to her little soiree, and then she told Ramona that Beverly had asked the very same thing about her! Before long, Ramona and Beverly weren’t even speaking to each other at all! By the end of that Friday, they sped to the bike rack as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid their former best friend. But, as fate would have it, the two girls reached the bike rack at the very same time. Naturally, their identical bikes were locked to each other with the lock that they had saved up together to purchase. As the two "friends" looked to each other to see who would unlock it first, they decided to take one last stab at friendship. Friends ’Til the End by Rusty Fischer