They say to write what you know.

And, I know mean girls.

The one piece of writing advice you’ll always come across is: “write what you know”. Now, I’m not really an expert in anything, so when I sit down to write or inspiration hits it’s usually based on something that occurred in real life.

I began my WIP, Class of 1987: The Reunion, as a fun story based on a run-in my friend had with one of the resident mean girls in our junior high class. Yes, we had more than one. We still discuss this incident to this day so I decided to write a story based on that girl, we’ll call her, Theresa, as I do in the story.

One afternoon, during lunch period, my friend was eating a small bag of Doritos. My friend was overweight and loved her Doritos. Who doesn’t love Doritos? Cool Ranch Doritos rule! As she was happily enjoying her treat, Theresa walked up to her, grabbed the bag out of her hand and tossed in the trash, saying; “You don’t need these,” and walked away. WHO DOES THAT!

My friend, who usually has a big mouth was stunned. She was speechless. One reason this incident has stayed with us is because she didn’t defend herself. She was so surprised at the audacity that she had no words. (When we talk about her, we still refer to her as “Theresa, that bitch).

So, I said, I’m gonna write a story and base the mean girl on Theresa. And I did. I started the story around 2014 or so. While I was using Dramatica Pro to flesh out the characters and narrative, I realized that the story wasn’t working. I was missing the point of the story, or the ‘why’, so I put it on the back-burner for years.

(Dramatic Pro is great for analyzing story and structure. I’m not a paid sponsor but I cannot recommend it enough.)

Fast forward to 2017. We get an invite to join a Facebook group for our 30th High School Reunion. My friends and I had no desire to go. If given the option of attending or stabbing ourselves in the eye with a fork, we would choose the fork, but we joined to see what was up. The group was like walking back into high school. The same kids who proclaimed themselves the ‘in crowd’ in school, commandeering all the activities and acting like they owned the school, were now overtaking the Facebook group. They drowned out the non-popular kids by hijacking every post with pictures and private jokes of which no one else was in on. All the photos were of the same people. Apparently, the Facebook group was now all about them.

My friend, I’ll call her Antoinette, was not happy. Many in this group made high school miserable for us, so she decided to let them know it. (I admit, I did offer to treat her to lunch if she posted, and she took me up on the deal.) FYI, this is the same group of kids that coordinated the senior ski trip. They put all of us on the same bus and referred to that bus as ‘the loser bus’. Yeah, we haven’t forgotten about that.

Here is what she posted to her Facebook page, after being blocked from the group for speaking her mind.

“My 30th high school reunion is tomorrow. I am 3000 miles away. I was invited, I said maybe months ago, but I decided not to go. I was still part of the reunion page….until yesterday. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, maybe not. Either way I said what I said and I don’t regret it. I was teased almost nonstop so forgive me if i don’t want to go back to 1987. I wished my fellow classmates who want to go back and relive their “glory days” well. I told them may they live the life they deserve!! Namaste! Sat Nam! Peace out! My tirade was a little nicer and longer than that, but you get the gist.Either way I was tired of the same 20-30 people who hijacked the sports, the yearbook, the ski trip, etc and now to hijack the reunion with dozens of their pictures. Maybe in 1987 they were the “in” crowd but a lot has happened in 30 years!!! A lot of GREAT things!!

So you can kick me off the reunion page for being “NEGATIVE” but you can’t kick me off my FB page for speaking my mind!!! If I can’t talk about it 30 years later, then when?

So Class of 1987 (with a few exceptions and if you are reading this right now, you are the class of 87, I didn’t unfriend you and you are the exception) BITE ME!!!!”

YES! She did tell them to live the life they deserved. They did not take that well. But, it finally gave me the reason for my story. My main character finds out that she was not invited to the 30th reunion and the story flashes back to her school years and back to the present as she explains why she’s been left of the invite list. With that set, I picked the manuscript back up and have slowly been editing it, chapter by chapter. The narrative is coming together and while there is a chapter or two left to add, the story is mostly complete.

It follows Amy Taylor Hale and her nemesis, mean girl Theresa Christian. Here is a sneak peek of the first chapter. This is unedited for grammar or spellcheck so please excuse any typos or errors. I’m only on the first round of edits.

Enjoy.

The (Ugh!) 30th High School Reunion

The aroma of freshly baked cookies and freshly brewed coffee enveloped me in a warm hug as the door swung open to The Perfect Grind. It was my happy place. A place where I could go to relax and savor a moment or peace. Having just moved back to Westchester County from Greenwich Village, it was nice to have a warm and welcoming café to remind me of NYC. Or, it was usually my happy place. Ordering my regular, large, iced vanilla latte, I joined my friend, Hazel at our regular table. Her long hair, now dyed black with pink streaks, fell over her face as she furiously typed on her laptop.

“You’re not invited,” she said, not bothering to look up from her screen.

Nodding, I continued to savor my delightful iced vanilla latte. “Not invited to what?”

“To the thirtieth high school reunion.” She continued to type.

The what? Hazel was a freelance music journalist so I knew she was working on a deadline but that didn’t stop me from slamming her laptop closed. “What reunion?”

She took a long sip of her coffee, a triple nonfat mocha latte, extra chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and cookie crumbles, and stared at me. “The 30th. There was an email invite sent out and a Facebook group created.. Your name isn’t on the list.”

“Well, that’s news to me. I wasn’t even aware that the Class of 1987 was planning another reunion. What is this shit,” I said, opening Hazel’s laptop. “What is this group?”

She clicked a few keys and up popped a Facebook page titled “Roosevelt High School’s 30^th Year Reunion – Then and Now.” Ugh. On the page was a list of graduates. My eyes scanned the list and, Hazel was right. My name was missing. Not only was I not invited, I wasn’t even listed as a classmate.

“After what happened at the twenty-year reunion, are you really surprised you’re not invited?”

Shrugging, I had to admit it wasn’t any surprise that my name was omitted from the invitation list for the thirtieth high school reunion. The twenty-year was a disaster. A year before the reunion, my debut thriller novel was released. It was under a pen name but the novel was loosely based on my own high school experiences, and introduced a serial killer who targeted her victims at their, you guessed it, high school reunions. The idea hit me during our ten year, which was such a waste of time. The cliques were still cliquing and everyone sat at the same lunch tables. The book became a surprise hit. Once my identity was discovered, it wasn’t hard to figure out who the victims were inspired by, specifically one victim, directly inspired by Theresa Christian, my high school nemesis. At the reunion, she outed me as the author in a very public and dramatic display.

“OK, I’m not surprised about not being invited, but to erase me from the class all together; how rude.”

“Look at the top of the page. Theresa Christian is the organizer.”

“Theresa Christian that bitch.”

Hazel laughed. “Wow, you haven’t called her that in years.

“I haven’t thought about her in years. I can’t believe this nonsense. Are you going?” I asked.

“I haven’t decided yet. Not sure if I want to relive other people’s glory days. It kinda seems pointless, doesn’t it?” Hazel looked up from her computer and smiled. “It’s not like we don’t know what’s going on with everyone. With social media we know who’s married, who’s divorced, who has kids, who’s cheating on their spouse. We know where they vacation, where they work, what they had for dinner and when they take a shit. A reunion isn’t necessary. Why would I want to spend an evening with people who barely acknowledged my existence in school?”

“Good point.” I agreed. Through the internet I know way more than I ever wanted to know about people I barely care about. I was annoyed, yet didn’t care. I had no intention of attending but an invitation would have been nice.

“So, you’re not bothered that you’re not invited?” Hazel asked. “I thought for sure this would set you off.”

“What do you want me to say? That I’m secretly devastated? That I’m plotting my revenge against Theresa Christian and her minions?” I mean, I was. The outline for my next novel was quickly forming in my head and the story was already writing itself.

“OH!” Hazel jumped in her seat. “I totally forgot to tell you the best part. Theresa is trying to get Dave to play at the reunion. Can you believe that.”

I choked on my coffee. “What?” Dave, a friend since seventh grade, was the lead singer and guitarist in the band, Smashed Face, who were currently out on a tour of the West Coast.

“Yeah, the nerve. Jen called me last night and told me that she received an email from Theresa asking if it were possible for Dave and the band to play a few songs. Can you believe that?”

I could believe it. Theresa Christian obviously had the same amount of gall she had in school. “What did Jen say? She couldn’t have been happy.” Jen, Dave’s wife and school sweetheart was the band’s manager. Theresa had no choice but to contact her, and the only person who disliked Theresa more than Hazel and I, was Jen.

“She told Theresa that Dave and the band would absolutely, by no means, be performing at the reunion. But not in those exact words.”

“Oh, I know the words Jen used. What did Theresa expect? The band is on tour until the end of the year. It’s not like they would cancel a show just so Dave and Jen can attend a reunion. Wait, they were invited right?”

“Yup,” Hazel answered. “Along with Penny and Drake. You’re the only one missing. Ya know, Theresa Christian always thought she was more important than she really was. She probably thought that Dave would cancel a stadium show just to play the Roosevelt High School 30th Year Reunion. For free, no less!”

“Of course I’m the only one missing.” I shrugged. “I don’t really care, but when is this trip back to Hell scheduled for anyway?”

“End of October.” Hazel answered, packing up her belongings. “That gives us about three months to devise a plan. If I decide to go, you have to go. Dave, Jen, Penny and even Drake are all on the invite list. Even if you are my date, you are attending this mess.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hazel, that is ridiculous. I don’t plan on attending.” I paused for a moment, pondering how much fun it would be to crash the reunion. “Unless –“

Hazel slung her tote bag over her shoulder. “I like the sound of that ‘unless’. You can’t let Theresa and her minions get away with this. It’s not just a petty high school drama anymore – it’s about standing up for yourself.”

“Yeah!” I slammed my iced coffee down. “They left me off the class list like I don’t exist. But what if there’s more drama like the last reunion? I don’t want to cause a scene.”

Now it was Hazel’s turn to roll her eyes. “Taylor Hale, you are all about scenes. You’ve faced much worse than a bunch of aging cheerleaders.” She grabbed a clean napkin and scribbled on it.

“True. I can show up as my fabulous self and show them I’m living my best life.”

“That’s my girl talking.” She handed me the napkin and headed towards the exit. “I’ll see you later. I’m interviewing Beck in the City today and I can’t be late. Here’s the info for my Facebook log in. They created a Facebook group for the reunion. You can log in under my account and check if anyone’s talking about you.”

“Have fun, Chickie.” I waved the napkin as she left.

My cell phone buzzed with a missed call from Jen. Without listening to it, I knew the message was an expletive laden rant about the reunion. My intention for the day was to get some writing done, but how could I manage writing when I had Facebook stalking to do. I bet you didn’t think I’d get access to that did ya Theresa.

I opened my own laptop and pulled up Facebook. Everyone was really invited except me. I scrolled through photo after photo of the jocks and cheerleaders. High School pictures of course because, trust me, some of them have not aged well. The posts were filled with comments thanking Theresa for her wonderful organizational skills. Some posts were cautiously hopeful that Dave’s band would make an appearance. The posts and comments were all from a group who had held their own private five- and fifteen-year reunions, excluding most of the class. I’m sure they believe they got away with their covert ops but I have a degree in Forensic Files from Hudson University so I know!

There was not one ounce of desire in my body to attend this shindig. While I was connected on social media with many of my classmates, that didn’t mean I wanted to deliberately put myself in a situation where I would have to consort with them. The horror! That’s the beauty of connecting with someone online; you don’t have to connect with them in person.

But, reading the comments and replies, all worshiping Theresa Christian, roiled my entire body. It was the same as it had been years ago. She was still the center of attention; the hallowed halls of Roosevelt High School now replaced by ones and zeros. The self-proclaimed “in crowd” high-fived each other on their awesomeness as they drowned out the less popular.

Did I even need an invite? High school, and junior high, were the epitome of insecurity, anxiety and torment. Under the smoothest of experiences, it’s tough to navigate the waters of being a teenager. It’s even harder for kids who have to deal with the added pressure of being the target of the “mean girl”.

For my friends and I, that was Theresa Christian. And to understand how I came to not be invited to my thirtieth high school reunion; I need to start at the beginning. The beginning being the very first day of junior high school.