My Cardboard Balcony

by Belinda Roddie Her blue pen fell out of her backpack with a clatter, and before she could stoop down to pick it up, someone else had retrieved it. Nikki looked up to see Amanda smiling down at her, holding out the slightly chewed writing utensil. It amazed her that this gorgeous goliath of a girl could be so eye-catching in any outfit. Today, Amanda was in torn up denim jeans, a baggy T-shirt, and a leather jacket with a the local baseball team's logo on it. Her hair, free from its usual ponytail when she played soccer, was draped across her left shoulder. "Thanks," Nikki murmured, taking the pen from Amanda and smiling nervously. Amanda smiled back and began walking with her to the parking lot. It had been a couple of days since Nikki had coordinated the silly string and whipped cream prank against Connor, and although he had sworn ultimate vengeance against her, the worst he had done was scowl and send her the bird from across the quad at lunch and break times....

by Belinda Roddie She giggled maniacally, thrilled that her plan worked. In about seven minutes, Connor would be heading to the locker room, thinking he would be inviting her crush to the Valentine's Day dance. Instead, he'd be met with a gaggle of her friends with silly spray and whipped cream to douse him with. Nothing tasted sweeter than the flavor of inflicted humiliation. Reaching into her backpack, Nikki proceeded to pull out her phone and text a brief numeric code to her bestie Chelsea, who was the ringleader of the gang and its enforcement of the master plan. In the meantime, she had a pretty dame to woo. She practically skipped to the soccer field to watch the beautiful Amanda, all grass stains and ponytail and cleats, play some scrimmage before the junior varsity team's big game. Amanda was nearly six feet tall, brown-skinned, sharp-browed, and very, very attractive. She towered over the rest of her team as she played, her capacity as fullback in full fo...