Our Burn Book.

                                                                   Story

"Hey you guys," I said, setting my tray down, and sitting down at our usual lunch table. Before I could even take a bite of my food Rhonda asked, "Did you hear about Marissa?" "Rhonda, don't gossip," Trisha warned. Rhonda had the hardest time of the three of us keeping to the no gossiping pact. It's not that she wanted to spread rumors, but she loved to talk about them. "It's a fact, Marissa was talking about it herself," Rhonda retorted. "Yeah, isn't she pregnant?" I asked, stepping in. "Yeah, she was talking to "the girls" about it in the locker room this morning," Rhonda told us. "The girls" is our name for whatever random group of friends happen to be hanging around Marissa at that moment. "Yeah, and you know what else she said?" Rhonda leaned in closer to us, and brought her voice down to a whisper, "The father is... Jared." Rhonda looked us, and then straightened up, she looked like she was rather proud of herself for knowing that. Trisha was just plained shocked. "Striker!?" She exclaimed. "Well, obviously, do you think Marissa would be doing it with any other Jared's?" Rhonda said retorically. I was the most pratical thinker of our group, and I asked, "Well, do you think she'll get an abortion?" They pondered for a moment, then Trisha took a deep breath, and said, "Yeah I think she will. I mean after all, she is sixteen, and she still has two more years of high school. Not only that, but she is captain of the cheerleading squad, president of the sophomore class, and not to mention the most popular girl is school." "I would never get one, but it seems most probable for her," Rhonda decided. "Well, let's stop talking about it now," Trisha suggested, "it's turning into gossip."

We stopped the subject of Marissa, and started talking about our substitute for English. Rhonda thought he's a major babe, and Trish and I were laughing at her when Marissa came up to us, she had with her Veronica, Jeannie, and Angela, three of her most loyal minions. Before she could say anything I said, "What do you want?" "I heard you were talking junk about me!" Marissa said, accusingly. "No, I think you're mistaken," I told her, "You see, I believe in the Golden Rule." "What the hell's that supposed to mean!?" Marissa was apparently irritated, due to her ignorance. "Um," Rhonda cut in, "the Golden Rule is: Treat others as you want to be treated, so what Roxy is saying is that she wouldn't talk about you, because she wouldn't want people to talk about her." "I don't believe that junk! And you know what since you want to be treated how you treat others that I might just start talking about you behind your back!" Now Trisha decided to add her input. "Too late, you already do talk about us behind our backs." After she said this she smiled a huge smile at Marissa and her posse. "Jerks," Marissa said turning around, and motioning for her posse to follow her. "Whatever she can dish out, I'm sure I can handle," I told my friends, as we went back to our lunch.