Copyright © 2023 by Dimensiones Ocultas, David Irons & Metropol Press.

First printing 2023.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover art designed by Suspiria Art

Find more books by the author at:

www.davidironswriter.com/books

OTHER TITLES FROM THE AUTHOR:

DON'T GO TO WHEELCHAIR CAMP

THE BLOODY TRACKS OF BIGFOOT

POLYBIUS

WOLF MOON

GRAVEYARD BILLY

NIGHTWAVES

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 19                                                                                                  

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Prologue

Prologue

8.47 P.M. – Beverly Hills, California. 1985

Christie Kennedy swerved down palm tree-lined streets in her brand new BMW, speeding so fast everything outside churned to a blur. Her eight-year-old daughter, Kelly, sat beside her, hands on the dash clinging for dear life. Christie looked as she did every day: too much makeup, a real fur coat, stocking-covered legs, and white high heels. She was the epitome of a Beverly Hills woman on the outside … but on the inside …

'I'm telling you, honey, we're going to catch the fucking kook in the act this time.' Christie poured a line of coke on the dashboard from a baggie, leaned in, and hoovered it up like a human vacuum. She washed down the narcotics with a mouthful of whisky from her hip flask and then tossed the flask in the back.

'Mom!' Kelly cried as the BMW veered onto the wrong side of the road, heading straight towards an oncoming bus.

Christie pulled the car back to her lane; clouds of white smoke peeled from the tires, like the clouds of white drugs rushing through her brain.

'I got it! I got it!' Christie hissed. Then with vicious rage – something that was happening more often than not – she grabbed Kelly's nearest pigtail and yanked it. 'Ding-dong! Keep out of my driving, dork breath! I know what I'm doing!'

'Ow! You nearly killed us!'

'Ding-dong!' she yanked the pigtail again.

'Ow!'

'Keep your opinion to yourself. Jesus, kid. You're just as boring and dried up as your old man. Just because I wanted a little drinkie and snortie behind the wheel. Fuck we can afford it. When I catch his ass in the act, we'll be able to afford anything.'

'Dad isn't having an affair, Mom!' Kelly cried. 'Why do we have to keep following him all over town!'

'Ding-dong!' – she yanked the pigtail again – 'Listen, dork breath, a woman's intuition is like gold. When something's up, we know something's up. I know he's making a fool out of me. Screwing around. Sticking it somewhere it doesn't belong. Everyone thinks it's a good laugh. Christie Kennedy, the sucker of Beverly Hills. Well, no more, bub. They think I must be crazy to suspect old daddy-kins of playing away. I'll show them how crazy I can be.'

Kelly looked at her mom wide-eyed. A stab of worry made the idea of how crazy her mom could be bleed through her entire body.

The BMW skidded to the curb outside Kelly's father's dental practice.

'Here we are,' Christie said. 'He's in there now, boinking some stupid slut that thinks pulling his plank will be a way to open his purse strings.'

'You don't know–'

'Ding-dong!'

'Ow!'

Kelly rubbed her head where her pigtail had been yanked again.

'I have my spies, dork breath!'

'I wish you wouldn't call me tha–'

'I'm your mother; I'll call you what I want. It's about time you smartened up, girl. It's about time you understood what kind of a world we live in. Your old man is balls deep in some hussy, and all our so-called highfalutin friends are laughing at us. I know it. I can feel it. Let me give you a slice of free advice, kid. The world is like a two-layer cake. On top, it's all icing and sugar, and underneath,' Christie started to slur her words as the booze and snort kicked in, 'It's all backstabbing and jealousy. It's not butter and cream; it's shit and sewage. People smile to your face but mock, laugh, tease, and try to put a nail in your coffin behind your back. A secret society of assholes walk among us, kid: They're called your friends. They all have opinions behind your back – the one place you'll never know where anything is said. You don't want to ever – and I mean ever, lose face to anyone. You got to be smart, kid. Be the best – be perfect. Stand up for yourself. Get what you want. Because even people you trust fucking stab you in the heart.' Christie started to thump her chest like King Kong, ready to swat a plane.

Kelly cleared her throat. 'I think–'

Christie swatted Kelly around the back of the head.

'Don't think – just listen, dweeb breath.'

Christie plumped her brunette hair in the rearview and wiped her nose for coke.

'You got my hair, my eyes, my legs. You'll be a great bitch when you grow up.'

Christie wiped her sweaty face and smeared her makeup. 'Come on. Let's go pay old daddio a visit.

.

They both slinked into the reception of his dental surgery. Christie had copied all his keys and could creep anywhere Frank Kennedy could creep. A new noise entered the silent soundtrack as they snuck down the hallway to his surgery.

Kelly heard her father moan in pleasure.

'Fucking. See, I knew it, ' Christie nodded.

'No …' Kelly trembled. 'Maybe he has a patient in there?'

'Ding-dong!' Christie yanked her daughter's pigtail.

'Ow!'

'The only drilling going on in there is between some floozy's legs. Come on, let's rumble this fucker.' Christie grabbed Kelly's hand and rushed down the hallway. 'See, kid, some people would think a sneak attack would be the best in this situation,' Christie panted. 'There's no time for that subtle crap. It's time for a full frontal assault.' Christie stopped by his surgery door, hiccupped, wiped her coke-white nostrils, and burst through.

Christie's mouth fell wide as Kelly's eyes welled up.

Christie's intentions of a big entrance were sucked from her body just as her husband was being sucked in his dentist's chair. But it wasn't some trashy tramp he'd picked up on Hollywood Boulevard: Kelly's school principal, Bob Williamson, was blowing Frank.

'It's not what you think!' Frank yelled, putting himself back in his pants, trying to zip up.

'No, it's not!' Bob said, clambering from his knees.

Bob started wiping his lips. 'It's just toothpaste! Toothpaste!' Referencing the white around his mouth.

'Yeah, it's a new sour toothpaste … that doesn't smell minty!' Frank added.

'What the holy fuck!' Christie said.

Frank began to plead. 'Honey, I … I need to talk to you about–'

'Can it,' Christie said. She staggered, held onto the doorframe with one hand, and rubbed her aching forehead with the other. 'Everyone was laughing at me for marrying you … they thought it was a joke, that you'd play away … but this … this …' She held her drug-spinning head with both hands. 'Sucking the old salami … Jesus Christ …' she moaned.

Bob and Frank's words all mixed into one: 'We needed to talk to you about this! We needed to converse like adults! It's just how it is. Frank and I–'

Frank and I.

She couldn't take any more of this. Once this got out … the humiliation …

All those pretentious, cocktail-sipping assholes wailing with laughter flashed in her mind.

It wouldn't get out.

Christie pulled out the .45 she had hidden in her fur coat and called to Bob.

'Hey, Bob!'

The gun barrel exploded without thought of consequence; Bob's cranium blew apart as if his skull had been rigged with T.N.T. The room's clinical white walls turned clotted crimson with the principal's brains. Immediately the coppery stink of viscous fluid entered the air.

'Nooooo!' Frank yelled, covered in his lover's hot gore spray as Bob's brainless body slumped to the floor.

'Oh, shut up!' Christie cried and put two slugs into Frank's chest. Immediately he hit the floor, and bright blood seeped into his white shirt.

Kelly watched open-mouthed as Bob and her father bled out on the floor. Her dad groaned in pain; Bob's body twitched even though he had a gored-out jack-o-lantern head.

'Mommmm … what have you done.' Kelly sunk to her knees, devastated. Christie sucked air and tried to get her bearings. 'I did what needed to be done … I did it … they won't laugh at me now … I'm not going to be some pushed aside fag hag!'

Kelly started trembling and blubbering.

'Ding-dong!' Christie yelled, yanking Kelly's pigtail. 'Get your ass to the car, go to the trunk …' She pushed the blood-soaked barrel of the gun into Kelly's face. 'Bring me the ax … like a good girl.'

Christie cut the men up to bloody lumber. The sinewy, fleshy sounds the ax made tearing through their wet bodies molded itself in Kelly's ears and wouldn't leave. She watched as her father's head was removed at the neck, arms, and legs, chopped at the ankles, elbows, and knees. Blood pooled thickly on the once-white floor tiles. Kelly rocked gently in the corner, pulling her pigtails as she whispered: 'Ding-dong … Ding-dong …' She kept ringing, but it was useless; no one was home. She watched as Christie went to work on Bob, splitting him into gory slithers. 'No wonder we got private school cheap for you, Kelly; Daddy was getting a discount one load at a time!' The men's clothes were turned to sopping rags; their bodies obliterated to pieces. Christie got creative, took some of Daddy's dental tools, and severed both men's cocks off. After wringing the blood from them, she attached one to each hoop of her earrings. A pair of withered dicks dangled down, slapping her neck and cheeks every time she moved. 'That's all they're good for,' she said. Christie's drug and booze-fueled mind ignored the crimson spray that had saturated her body. Her face was dripping, her fur coat a red matted mess. 'Fixed them good, huh, kid!'

Kelly rocked and repeated over crazily: 'Ding-dong … Ding-dong …'

In the distance, the sound of sirens grew nearer and louder. Within minutes, the fuzz burst through the door, officers slipping on the gory floor. Christie put the ax through the chest of the first officer on the scene. She screamed a mad war cry as his ribs cracked loudly, separating to make room for the bloody blade.

'Men! All the fucking same! Soft!'

More cops barged in, immediately open-mouthed at the gruesome massacre. Christie grinned at them, ax in hand, covered in crimson with cocks for earrings, standing over the fresh corpse of one of their own. Without a second's notice, they opened fire. Huge blood blossoms erupted from their shells' impact, and Christie was instantly downed. She hit the floor and splashed in the congealing life fluid that splattered Kelly in the face. Christie crumpled up like a stepped-on spider, her life force slipping away. 'Never let them walk all over you, kid,' she sighed in her dying breath, reaching out for Kelly with a crimson-caked hand. 'Never let the bastards laugh at you behind your back. Never let a man take you for a ride. The only person you can trust in this world is you–'

Christie's head exploded into meaty chunks as one of the cops stepped in with a shotgun and ventilated it like an eighteen-wheeler would a watermelon. Brain sprayed everywhere. Flinders of skull shot out like bone darts and peppered Kelly.

'Teach that bitch,' the cop with a shotgun said, spitting on the freshly made corpse. Then he turned and realized Kelly was rocking behind the door they burst through, covered from head to toe in the red stains of slaughter.

'Oh, my god. Oh, Jesus! Shit! There's a kid in here!'

The other officers rushed into the carnage and stared at the blood and brain-soaked girl.

'Ding-dong … Ding-dong …' Kelly kept whispering. Then buried under her heavy, disjointed breath, she hissed: 'I'll never let them walk all over me, mamma. I'll never let the bastards laugh at me behind my back. I'll be perfect … perfect …'

Chapter 1

7.10 A.M. – Beverly Hills, California. 1993

Kelly Kennedy jolted awake in her bed. The morning sun blazed through the slats of her blinds into her bedroom, burning away any remains of the nightmare she'd been having. As she caught her breath and wiped the sweat from her brow, the dream – as it normally did – faded from all memory. Slight shards of the scenes played out in her mind while sleeping turned to dust and wisped away. Years of therapy had finally done the deed and repressed the memory of … that night. Its memory was no more real than her distant dreams of the incident; it happened but held no relevance in her life. Or, at least, that's what the psychologists and therapists thought. Kelly now lived with her aunt and uncle from her mom's side in a five-bedroom, three-car garage home in Silver Lake. It was all clean streets and blue skies lined with tall palm trees. Kelly had a 1989 white V.W. Golf Cabriolet, was getting good grades, and, most importantly, was the head cheerleader for the Silver Lake Lakers football team.

Go Lakers!

Kelly would say life was … 'Perfect!'

That was her mantra for life: everything had to be perfect!

The psychologists and therapists had picked up that Kelly had a few peccadillos – peccadillos they were convinced would never grow to problems.

Never ever.

The psychologists and therapists were wrong.

Dead wrong.

She would obsess over the things she was attracted to in life. It all seemed quite harmless. It was something that went under the radar unnoticed. As a kid, her obsession was Barbie and Care Bears and every other syrupy kid's commodity thrown at her through the radioactive rays of a T.V. screen. Now, there was a new obsession in her life. Kelly jumped out of bed, yawned, and pulled up her blinds to stare at the blazing L.A. sun.

'Another great day!' she laughed to herself manically. She ran to the T.V. in the corner of her room and flipped it on. Quickly she took a tape from the stack piled high next to the V.C.R. labeled:

And popped it in the player.

From Nurse to Worse was her favorite episode. Not that it was any different from any other episode in Kelly's life: she knew all the dialogue to every episode of Saved by the Bell that ever aired. She even knew all the dialogue from every episode of the prequel show: Good Morning Miss Bliss. As the show started – ♪ When I wake up in the morning, and the alarm gives out a warning, ♪ I don't think I'll ever make it on time ♪ – Kelly started her daily workout. She stretched, reached, kicked, used her dumbbells, and did sit-ups. She had to look good, feel good. Had to be … perfect. She was the head cheerleader, darn it! For the past few years, part of her obsession was pointed to the other head cheerleader on screen: Kelly Kapowski.

Kelly Kapowski was the epitome of perfect. She was the head cheerleader for Bayside High – just like herself, Kelly Kennedy was the head cheerleader for the Lakers!

Kelly Kapowski had the most important thing in the world: Good hair and teeth! Just like she Kelly Kennedy did.

Wow! What a pair!

Kelly Kapowski had great legs; Kelly Kennedy had great legs, too! She didn't have those chubby ankles and arms like the other girls at school. Some of the other girls at school were short and stubby. They had limbs like that darn Chucky doll in that Child's Play movie.

As the intro to Saved by the Bell played, all those heifers that would scarf down that greasy cafeteria food entered her mind.

Yuck-o!

That was the stuff that gave you Chucky arms. Kelly's features twisted with anger as she ran on the spot, thinking of greasy food and Chucky arms. 'Not perfect …' she hissed with venom. She often felt volcanic anger inside when things didn't fit with her wholesome, Saved by the Bell perception of life.

Homeless people rooting through trashcans: 'Not perfect …'

Those filthy whores that paraded the streets at night looking for filthy men: 'Not perfect …'

The zitty teenagers at school who listened to that grunge music in their filthy flannel and all that tie-dye like a gas station puddle: 'Not perfect …'

Why couldn't they just listen to Bryan Adams like normal people? Boy, those Canadians knew how to rock!

Kelly Kapowski was perfect.

Kelly Kennedy was perfect.

Jeez, Louise! Even their names were almost the same.

Perfecto-rama!

From Nurse to Worse started as Kelly broke into a sweat; her legs felt tight and good as she jogged on the spot. Kelly Kapowski was coming back from a date with the school hunk, Zack Morris. Kelly grinned as they appeared on screen and said their dialogue in put-on voices.

'I had a wonderful time, Zack. That movie really got to me.'

'You're the only one who cried when Ernest went to jail.'

Canned laughter slinked through the T.V.'s speaker. In Kelly Kennedy's mind, there was always a live studio audience laughing and sighing in her life. It was one of those peccadillos that had grown into a problem.

'I wasn't the only one,' the Kelly on the screen said, 'Vern was crying, too.'

More canned laughter.

'Well, good night, Zack.'

There was a pause, Zack plucked up his courage, and Kelly Kennedy, on the other side of the screen, pep-talked the episode on with intensity. 'Do it, Zack … Do it …'

'Kelly, I've never felt this way about a girl before, and–'

'Yes?

'Would you go steady with me?'

'Wow! I don't know what to say.'

'You say yes, Kelly! You say YES!' Kelly Kennedy said rabidly.

At Silver Lake High, Kelly Kennedy had her own Zack Morris – sort of. Danny Shaffer was the head of the football team and was a first-class, major-league hunk! He was big and blonde and blue-eyed and every girl's dream! Why hadn't he asked her to go steady yet? They were perfect for one another. The head cheerleader and the head of the football team were perfection times ten! They'd been on dates time and time again. She'd made a move on him when they parked one night. It wasn't perfect that the girl made the first move, but when push came to shove for greater perfection … He got into it … after a while. But why the heck was it that every time they were out and alone and things could be perfect, that darn Freddie Hernández would show up!

Freddie was the first male cheerleader on their team. Freddie was cool and all, but his friendship with Danny was … annoying. She didn't want to brand him as 'Not perfect.' That hellfire was reserved for much worse: Bums, whores, grungers, and fat chicks with Chucky arms. But, gosh, darn it! Why did he always have to show up when it was just the two of them? Well, she guessed guys always do have annoying friends. Zack had A.C Slater – hot in an ethnic way if you like that kind of thing. And Screech – probably very hot if you had Chucky arms.

Kelly turned away from the T.V., looked in her full-length mirror, and pulled her right side pigtail. 'Ding-dong! Thinking A.C Slater is hot in an ethnic way isn't politically correct!' She turned back to the T.V after reprimanding herself. She shouldn't think things like that. Freddie was Latino like Slater; besides being annoying and always floating around Danny, he was nice enough. Soon the episode was over, and all of the Bayside High teens' problems were wrapped up perfectly in twenty-five minutes. If only life was that way.

Kelly ran and jumped in the shower. All of her strawberry shampoo was used up!

'Fudge!'

So was the coconut.

'Corn nuts!'

Kelly never swore. That wasn't perfect.

She settled on good old Head and Shoulders. She toweled off and blow-dried her hair. Tied up her brunette pigtails. She dressed in her red cheerleading outfit – practice was first thing – and packed civilian clothes in a white Reebok sports bag. She eyed her walls covered in pictures of Kelly Kapowski from Teen Beat. Kelly never understood why at the bottom right of the posters, they all said Tiffany Amber Thiessen? Who the heck was she?

Jetting downstairs, she went to the rear garden that led to the pool and tennis courts. Her aunt and uncle – Charles and Cybil Dunning – were sitting outside having breakfast at a pure white bistro set.

'Morning, Mom! Morning, Dad! She beamed.

'There's my little pumpkin! Her aunt said. They exchanged kisses on each cheek.

She kissed her uncle on his head as he read the paper. He didn't even look up.

'Practice first thing?' her aunt said, nodding at her cheer uniform.

'Sure is! Can you think of a better way to start a day!'

'Have some toast, honey,' her uncle said, putting down his paper.

'No way, pop! Gotta think of the figure! I'm not going to be the weight that breaks the squad pyramid!' Kelly's grin was fixed as if it had been stapled that way. 'You heard of the straw that broke the camel's back? If I stepped on 'em, I could be the broad that breaks the squad's toes! Seriously!'

In Kelly's mind, a live studio audience howled with laughter.

Her timing of the mediocre joke was perfect.

'Silly,' her aunt said, waving a hand in her direction before drinking coffee from an expensive china cup.

'You be sure to have lunch,' her uncle said.

'I'll grab something at the Maxx later,' Kelly beamed.

'The Maxx?' her mom asked quizzically.

Fantasy and reality were blurring again … it was starting to happen more and more. Awkwardness bled in Kelly's brain; the live studio audience sat on their hands.

'Oh, just someplace the girls and I found to eat.'

Her grin felt as if it was splitting at the sides; a pressure was building up behind her eyeballs. Did they believe the lie?

'Anyway, better jam. Have a great one!'

Kelly ran to her convertible, hopped in, and sped out of the driveway. As she left, the automated gates opened and closed as they were supposed to. Always working perfectly.

Her uncle didn't return to his paper; he stared cock eyed in the direction Kelly left. 'She seem a little strange these days to you?'

'Strange?' her aunt said. 'No. She's perfect.'

Chapter 2

Kelly sped the cabriolet to Ally Lowe's house. Ally was blonde, had good legs, and lived in a similar street to hers – but not as nice as Silver Lake. Ally only had a single-car garage, but the house was perfect in its own way. The V.W. screeched to a halt outside, and Kelly honked the horn. A few minutes later, Ally, in her cheerleader outfit, came running to the car.

'Bag in the back, hun!' Kelly called to her. 'We've got a full house this morning!'

Ally huffed and detoured to the trunk. She popped the small space open and tossed her sports bag inside. Clambering into the car, Ally pushed her big blonde hair up and checked her face in the sun visor. 'You should totally get a Jeep,' Alley said, not even looking at Kelly. 'Soft-top; doors you can take off; more space for passengers. Jeeps are totally in. Like, for real.'

Kelly sped away. Ally pulled a face at the stereo, realizing what was playing through the V.W.'s speakers. 'You've got to stop crushing on Bryan Adams. This stuff sounds so … eighties. What's next on the Kelly Kennedy playlist? Kenny G?'

'My car – my tunes!' Kelly grinned. 'What suggestions do you have for the D.J?'

Ally thought about this. 'P.M Dawn. Dr. Dre. Naughty by Nature?'

'Rap!' Kelly exclaimed. 'No way! That stuff is so … unfortunately urban.'

Alley rolled her eyes. 'Hey, did you see Married with Children last night?'

Kelly physically juddered at the mention of the show.

'That show is funny as shit,' Ally grinned. 'That Kelly Bundy. She's beautiful and makes a packet doing that show. What a bitch.'

Kelly's hands tightened on the steering wheel. Married with Children! That was a filthy show! That rag-tag, blonde bimbo Kelly Bundy gave all Kelly's a bad name! There was only one Kelly for the nineties, and that was Kapowski! Kelly gripped the steering wheel so tight that her skeleton felt like it could shatter under her skin. Boy, that brain-dead, wrench-faced whore! If they asked that blonde Kelly to go work on a banana plantation, she'd probably throw out all the bent ones because they were broken.

'… Kelly Bundy …not perfect …' Kelly moaned under her breath.

'What?' asked Ally.

'You shouldn't watch that Married with Children. It's a filthy show.' Kelly snapped, eyes scowling forward.

'Yeah, sure.' Ally said.

The conversation stopped dead.

The next stop was Julie Nelson's place, another cheerleader from the squad. Julie had jet-black hair, chocolate brown eyes, and the best lips any of the girls had ever seen. She had the perfect pout. Ally had once caught that Weird Science movie late night on cable. Two dorks had bought the hottest British chick she'd ever seen to life, and the dorks didn't even bang her. Ally could see a resemblance between the British chick and Julie – not that she'd ever tell her. The guys would drool over Julie a little too hard; she didn't want to fuel her ego anymore. Julie jumped in the back of the V.W. after dumping her bag in the trunk. 'Hey, girls!' she grinned. 'What's shaking up the monkey tree?'

'Same old – same old,' Alley replied. 'How was your date with Gavin Wilson?'

'Gavin Wilson? The kid who draws well in art class?' Kelly asked.

'Yeah,' Julie replied. 'I kind of kept it on the low-down. I tried dating outside of our social circle of jocks. He's a sweet guy, so I thought, what the hell.'

'Heck,' Kelly muttered under her breath.

'So?' Ally asked.

'So? Julie replied. 'It won't be happening again.'

'Why not?' Kelly asked.

'Well …' Julie pondered. 'He's okay, but … ugh! He kisses like he's trying to chew your face off.'

'I've had the same,' Ally said. 'Some guys drool more than my retarded cousin when he plays with himself in public.'

The girls' faces grimaced. 'Too much in-fo-ma-tion!' Kelly groaned.

They pulled up at Ginger McCarthy's place: A condo with a pool and palm trees. Ginger was already outside, standing in the shade in her cheerleading outfit, wearing a pair of black shades. She quickly dubbed out a cigarette when Kelly's V.W. appeared.

'Was she smoking?' Kelly gasped.

'Nah, Ginger? Why would she?' Ally quickly added.

Both Ally and Julie knew that Ginger smoked. Ginger did many things the other girls knew Kelly wouldn't approve of, like when she'd sat on Coach Conners' face in the girls changing rooms and ground his skull to paste as she got off on him. The faculty got wind of that rumor, and Coach Conners took an extended vacation in Mexico. That was why the school vowed to never have a male phys ed teacher for the girls again. That was why they stuck with Coach Turner, the A-class hatchet-faced ballbuster. Ginger lived up to her name, a fiery redhead, and everyone but Kelly knew of her reputation.

Ginger jumped in the back next to Julie.

'Morning, Ginger!' Kelly said.

'Yep, it sure is.' Ginger replied, zonked out in the back seat.

'Late night?' Julie asked with a wry smile. A faint smell of booze came from Ginger.

'Yeah, studying,' Ginger dropped her sunglasses, winked at Julie, and let out a dirty laugh.

As they took off, Kelly said: 'Ohhh, I forgot to tell you all. We got another passenger this morning,'

'Who?' Ally snapped.

'Gretchen Estevez,' Kelly replied.

'The gork-a-zoid with the glasses from English class?' Ginger shouted. 'She's milk-toast personified!'

'Yeah,' Ally added, 'I'm lack-toast intolerant.'

Julie snorted. 'You girls are mean.'

'Well, I guess you don't want any screen time then?' Kelly said.

'What?' Ginger said.

'Gretchen has been asked to make a video diary of the life of a cheerleader. She's going to make a movie about the squad! Who we are; what we do; what goes on behind the scenes.'

'Not too far behind the scenes,' Ginger huffed.

'Hey, look, there she is.' Kelly pulled over to the side of the street. Gretchen was already filming as she waited for a ride, and all the girls posed and waved when they noticed the camera was on them.

'Hey, girl!'

'Gretchen, hun!'

'Jump in, babe!'

'Phony as three dollar bills!' Kelly said out the driver's side window, breaking the fourth wall for the invisible camera crew she imagined filmed her life. The live studio audience all laughed as she shrugged and mugged.

Gretchen climbed in the back between Ginger and Julie. 'Thanks for picking me up, Kelly!' Gretchen beamed. 'You have a really nice car!' Kelly gave her a wink; Gretchen pushed her giant oval glasses up her nose in reply. Gretchen was a plain girl who always seemed to wear gray even when she wasn't. Nothing stood out about Gretchen. She wasn't pretty or unattractive. She wasn't confident, but she wasn't shy. She was just someone at school who was just there. In a part of Kelly's brain, it was almost community service letting such a plain Jane hang with the squad.

That wasn't a perfect way to think, but she felt it was the right way to think.

The girls all chattered and posed as Gretchen recorded them. Then Kelly clicked her fingers and slapped her forehead. 'Horse pucky!' she exclaimed.

'I think the word you're looking for is shit,' Ginger said sardonically. All the other girls laughed.

'No dirty words in my car, Ginger! How many times do I have to remind you?'

Ginger rolled her eyes beneath her sunglasses.

'I forgot,' Kelly said. 'I need to make a call back home.'

'You just left home?' Ally said.

'I know, but I got to remind my mom to wash my other cheer jersey! I'll just pull over at the call box up ahead. It won't take me two shakes of a set of pom-poms!'

The girls from the squad rolled their eyes now; Gretchen giggled.

A sly grin pulled over Kelly's face. Her lie had worked like a charm.

Chapter 3

'Be back in a sec, guys!' Kelly called as she marched to the call box.

'This happens almost every day,' Ginger moaned. 'Team captain Klutz always forgets something, and we have to wait for her to call back home. She's more forgetful than my ninety-six-year-old grandmother, and she can't even remember to go to the bathroom to take a dump. It's getting embarrassing.'

Ginger turned and stared into the lens of Gretchen's camera; she let out an awkward wavering laugh.

'That on?' Ginger asked.

Gretchen didn't take her gaze away from the eyepiece and gave Ginger a thumbs up.

'Make sure that doesn't make final cut,' Ginger said through gritted teeth.

'Tartar sauce!' Kelly exclaimed as she threw the door to the call box open. The inside was gross: graffiti covered every filth-blurred window; porn flyers for cheap women were stuck to every surface; the pungent stench of piss was so strong it could peel paint. The call box was most definitely not perfect. Nor was the neighborhood they'd pulled up in. It was, unfortunately urban, just like rap music. But in a way, that was perfect for the imperfect thing she had to do. Sometimes you have to do imperfect things for greater perfection. You can't cure cancer without killing a few white mice or make an omelet without breaking some eggs. The world wasn't perfect, but to turn it into your idea of what perfect should be, sometimes you had to do something less than perfect. There had been a worry in Kelly's life lately, which had become quite concerning as time passed. It was a thing that made Kelly stay awake at night with only the sound of her grinding teeth to keep her company. She looked over her shoulder to ensure the others weren't paying her attention; they were all mugging for Gretchen's camera.

Perfectoid!

'Oh, coconuts!' she exclaimed, having to touch the lurid, sticky receiver. She pumped in a handful of quarters and dialed the number she knew by heart.

The dial tone purred as it was connected to the NBC offices. Kelly twisted the phone's receiver wire in her hand like an old Catholic woman would rosemary beads. Something very troublesome had come into Kelly's life since the start of Saved by the Bell's fourth season: The odd absence of Kelly Kapowski. She'd only appeared in a handful of the new episodes – some of which were obviously old episodes held over from previous seasons seeing how young the cast looked. And worse than that, they had semi-replaced Kelly with a new character: Some greasy, grungy biker chick named Tori.

'Not perfect …' Kelly sneered as she gripped the phone wire tight.

Holy guacamole! How could NBC try to normalize girls wearing tight jeans and leather jackets!

'Not perfect …' she groaned again.

The phone was picked up on the other end: 'Hello, NBC – National Broadcasting Corporation. What extension are you looking fo–'

'Warren Littlefield's office, please – the NBC president. Tell him it's a concerned fan!' Kelly barked.

There was a moment's pause at the other end, then the secretary answered.

'Oh, it's you. The kook.'

'Kook my rosy red ass!' Kelly spat. 'Get that fucker on the phone!'

'Oh, different number today,' the secretary said, 'another one to add to our file of abusive calls filed under K … for kook.'

'You know why I'm calling … where the fuck has Kelly Kapowski gone?'

There was a sigh from the receiver.

'I've told you, the actress who plays Kelly Kapowski didn't renew her contract for part of this season. That's why there's no Tiffani-Amber Thiessen on the show.'

'Why do you keep mentioning this Tiffani-Amber Thespian or whatever her name is? Her name keeps popping up like zits on my ass! Who is she? Is this some sort of conspiracy!' Foam flew from Kelly's rabid mouth.

'She's ooky spooky and altogether kooky,' the secretary sighed.

'You need to go stick a razor blade-encrusted dildo down your cocksucker, lady! You got a smart mouth! Do you know what happens to cunts with a smart mouth? They get filled – permanently!'

'Delightful!' the secretary exclaimed. 'Princess Pollyanna has a way with words, doesn't she?'

'You know, Brandon Tartikoff wouldn't have treated his fans like this. He knew how to run NBC! Not like that rusty rim licker Littlefield. Ha! Littlefield, more like little cock! The man has no scrote! Tell me, do they have to pay less to have a retard as a receptionist? A halfwit whore manning the phones? A filthy cunt licker as the voice of communications?'

There was a laugh down the line: 'Have a great day, kook.' Then it went dead.

'Not perfect … Not perfect …' Kelly screeched under her breath as she stared at the receiver. Slowly, she calmed her ragged breath. Repeated over and over: 'Perfect … Perfect …'

Eventually, she gained control of herself. She stared into the scratched chrome front of the phone and saw her distorted reflection. 'There's always tomorrow … we'll get the answers we need.'

Nothing she just said was perfect, but what was said in the call box stayed in the call box.

'Perfect … Perfect …' she repeated to herself.

The horn of her V.W. was honked in her direction.

'Come on, Kelly!' Ally cried. 'We're going to be late for school!'

Kelly popped her head out the door, grinning like a goon.

'Coming!'

She smashed the receiver back in its cradle, giving it an evil glare. She'd deal with the receptionist bitch later. Then, Kelly ran back to her car and began to leap and cheer – 'Two – four – six – eight! We're off to school, and we won't be late!'

Chapter 4

As they pulled up the front of Silver Lake High, students walked up to the main doors laughing and joking with one another, books in hand. Ted Logan was out front raising the good old stars and stripes up the new electric flagpole. This morning, there was enough of a breeze that Old Glory flapped and fluttered, folding and unfurling as she rose. Kelly slammed on the brakes, got up, stood on her seat, and saluted the flag.

'She's perfect,' Kelly grinned. 'Do you know what she means? The colors?'

'Oh brother, this again. ' Ginger sighed. 'Time for an impromptu history class.'

'The flag colors are symbolic; red symbolizes hardiness and valor, white symbolizes purity and innocence, and blue represents vigilance, perseverance, and justice. All the things that being an American are about. Being an American is about being accepted for who and what you are. That's why America is the most perfect country in the world! You can be anyone and anything. God bless America!'

Kelly's grin looked like it would rip from her face it grew so wide.

Gretchen captured a perfectly framed shot of Kelly in the foreground as the flag breezed in the background. The live studio audience in Kelly's mind cheered at her patriotic speech; they appreciated the impromptu artistry of Gretchen's shot; the other cheerleaders in the car sighed.

Coach Turner blew her whistle and shouted out at the cheer squad. 'Okay, line up!' The cheer team all lined up on the school field. The Silver Lake High cheer team was comprised of seventeen girls and three boys. The two new substitute cheerleaders were on the bleachers off to the side: Lacy Rousey and Rhonda Evans. Kelly and Coach Turner had viewed a tape of the two new subs – students from Huntingdon High who had just transferred. They were better than a couple of the girls who were official members of the Silver Lake team.

'Holy cow!' Kelly had exclaimed, watching Lacy Rousey perform a back handspring through a shower of VHS grain. Lacy flew backward onto her hands and then back to her feet with a quick push-up. She did this non-stop at breakneck speed, then springboarded into the air for a barrel roll before landing on her feet to shake her pom-poms.

'That girl can flip-flop, flick-flak, and hippety-hop 'till she can't stop!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's mind let out assorted giggles.

'If you mean she's good, I agree,' Coach Turner spat, shaking her head.

Coach Turner really needs to turn that frown upside down, Kelly thought.

Kelly knew Lacy should have a permanent position upfront and out there for the team. Her moments on the field were perfect. Instead, they had that flat-footed cow flop, Chrissie Chambers. She was on the team because her old man owned Chambers' Department Store and gave the school cut-rate prices on uniforms. Only this morning, Kelly had breezed through the locker room and watched Chrissie lacing up her sneakers; it was like watching a butcher trying to make sausages with the amount of meat she was strapping into her Reeboks.

'Chucky ankles …' Kelly had hissed under her breath. 'Not perfect …'

'Hi, Kelly!' Chrissie had grinned. Her smile radiated out from her moon-shaped face; her cheeks were pockmarked like craters and looked just as filled with cheese. Kelly grinned, grimaced, and moved on.

Freddie Hernández was around the corner with the two other male cheerleaders.

'So, what are you going to do?' Tony Springer asked Freddie.

Kelly paused just beside some lockers and began to listen. In the pit of her stomach, intuition told her there might be something she'd want to hear.

Freddie sat on one of the benches and pulled a T-shirt over his well-toned body. He took a breath and sighed. His brown eyes held an emotion Kelly couldn't compute. There was something deep and wistful to them. Usually, Freddie was all smiles and jokes. Today something was different.

'There's been an ultimatum. I tried living a lie once, but I am what I am. I've known that for a long time. I don't want to live someone else's lie when I know the truth. We both know the truth.' Freddie thought long and hard. 'I get it. There are expectations at this school. Hell, there are expectations everywhere. But what the hell good is it living to someone else's standards when you're dying inside.'

'Sounds a bit dramatic,' Dennis Dolan, the other male cheerleader, said as he brushed his hair.

'You know what I mean, man,' Freddie said. 'I'm a male cheerleader. Everyone thinks I'm a certain way off the bat. I try to pretend I'm not when I'm defending myself against the same jock assholes I'm cheering for. I'm not pretending anymore. And I don't expect anyone else to, especially when I'm in a relationship with them.'

'A relationship!' Tony exclaimed.

'Well, what else do you call it?' Freddie said.

'Come on,' Dennis asked. 'You're all mystery and chitter-chatter,' he tossed his brush in his sports bag. 'Who's the mystery lover you always pine about?'

Freddie took a deep breath.

Kelly pushed against the lockers listening in. A football precariously perched above her lost balance and bounced down. All of the male cheerleaders' eyes shot in her direction. Kelly, thinking fast, owned it and walked out full of confidence as if she hadn't been snooping. 'Come on, guys!' Girl talk is over! We need to get on the field!'

'Kelly,' Freddie sighed.

'Yeah yeah, we're coming, boss lady!' Tony said. His eyes followed the sway of Kelly's skirt as she left. 'Nutty as squirrel shit,' he laughed. 'But hotter than a hooker's doorknob on payday.'

Tony sniggered under his breath. 'Why Danny isn't pole axing that on a nightly basis will haunt me until I'm dead.'

'Beats me,' Freddie said.

Then they were out on the field, their individual problems erased as they lined up as a team.

Coach Turner blew her whistle again.

'Okay. I know we have the game against Huntingdon this weekend. We will go over our usual drill, but … we've had some … external funding to perform a new cheer … and to keep our sponsor happy, we have devised a new pyramid formation for a segment during halftime.'

'Segment?' Kelly said, confused. 'External funding? New cheer? I'm the head of the squad! Why haven't I heard about this? Ay Caramba!'

'Okay, okay!' Coach Turner said. She reached into her pocket and took out a scrap of paper. She gritted her teeth, then spoke. 'Here's the new cheer.' If there were an Olympic event for lack of enthusiasm, Coach Turner would be knee-deep in gold with her reading. 'Don't be unhappy. Don't be sad. When you need clothes, Chambers' Department Store is rad. We have shoes, we have clothes, and all the others can stick it up their nose. Chambers' Department Store is the place to be; shout and cheer for Chris-sie.' Coach Turner folded the paper and put it back in her pocket. 'That's when you make a pyramid formation … with Chrissie at the top.'

Kelly's head turned as robotically as The Terminator, her eyes burned red like laser beams towards Chrissie Chambers. Chrissie's chubby cheeks were expanded to a point no cheerleaders' had gone before.

'Chucky cheeks,' Kelly growled. 'Not perfect …'

'What the actual backward-ass fuck!' Ginger cried. 'We just sold our soul for a sponsor we never wanted!'

'Ginger!' Coach Turner snapped.

All the cheerleaders gasped.

'You talk like that again, and you'll be in detention until you suck dick with dentures!' Ally sniggered.

'If you want trouble, you'll get it!' Coach Turner yelled.

Ginger's mouth clamped shut.

'Not so funny when someone talks back to you, huh toots? Clean language only!'

'You tell her coach,' Kelly hissed under her breath evilly.

'Keep calm,' Kelly croaked, putting on a painted-on grin like pulling on a rubber Halloween mask. But her true feelings bled through. 'Chrissie can't have this … that filthy Chucky-faced pig … not perfect … '

'Erm, coach.' Kelly said calmly, composing herself. 'As the head of the squad, I really think we should've been consulted about a new cheer this close to the gam–'

'Her old man paid two grand for the spot. What we gonna do?' Coach Turner said with a resigned shrug. 'The maz has reinforced the stipulation that if any of the squad objects, they will be suspended from being part of the team.'

They all moaned and groaned.

'Not perfect …' Kelly seethed under her breath. 'Not perfeccttttttt …'

Gretchen was filming from the bleachers. She looked through the camera's eyepiece, confused. She couldn't hear what was being said at this distance, but something was up. She zoomed in on Kelly's face and gasped. Her visage was so spiteful and shriveled and screwed she looked like a different person. What was she muttering under her breath? Then, the rage on her face bled away, and the old Kelly was back. It was like seeing someone else jump into Kelly's body, distort her features, and then jump out again. The hair on the back of Gretchen's neck bristled.

'Okay, I'll get you all copies of the new cheer,' Coach Turner said, 'so let's practice a basic level one pyramid with Chrissie at the top.'

Chrissie didn't seem to notice the dismay of the other girls at the news: Chrissie never noticed anything.

'Brain-dead sweat hog.' Kelly whispered.

Coach Turner counted them in: 'Five! Six! Seven! Eight!'

Quickly, the male cheerleaders helped toss two girls up in the air to form a basic pyramid: Tony, Dennis, and Freddie at the bottom, Kelly and Ginger at the second tier, with Chrissie clambering to the top.

Kelly's face of thunder grew to a fully-fledged city-destroying storm. She stared at Chrissie's left sneaker in her right hand. This Chucky-cheeked, over-privileged, low-rent, stale menstrual cycle had … 'Dog shit on her shoes … Not perfect …'

Orange flecks of a trod-on turd remained on the toe of her Reebok.

What a slob-inski!

Also, the lazy saturated fat slug had left unpolished scuff marks on the side.

'Not perfect … Not perfect!' Kelly repeated rabidly under her breath.

Chrissie began to holler her personalized cheer like a saggy old sow on the way to the slaughterhouse.

'Don't be unhappy. Don't be sad. When you need clothes, Chambers' Department Store is rad!'

This wasn't right – none of it. Kelly was going to explode. Her internal needle raised through the red and buried off the dial.

'We have shoes, we have clothes, and all the others can stick it up their nose!'

Flashes of white mice, broken eggs, and the greater good flashed in Kelly's brain like subliminal messaging in a mind control video.

Kelly couldn't take it anymore.

'Chambers' Department Store is the place to be; shout and cheer for Chris-sie!'

'Noooooooot perfectttttttt!'

A perverse plan hatched in Kelly's short-circuiting mind.

Rage took over all rationality. Kelly twisted the rancid Reebok in her hand, heard the gasp from Chrissie above, then screamed: 'My wrist!'

Kelly snapped the Reebok away; Chrissie's weight passed from her palm. The pyramid rocked and swayed as its prissy privileged peak squealed and tumbled to the ground.

'Girls! Nooooo!' Coach Turner cried.

Everything was slow-motion suspense. Then there was a loud thump as Chrissie hit the deck and a sharp, satisfying snap.

It was like angel harps to Kelly's ears:

'My anklllleeeeeeee!' Chrissie cried.

The entire pyramid fell – bodies bouncing on the school field, cheerleaders crying out in surprise and pain – Kelly concealed her twisted grin as she rolled to one side.

Shrieking screams were added to the melee as the other cheerleaders realized what had happened.

'Look at her ankle!'

'Oh my god!'

'Somebody get a medic!'

Kelly looked over at Chrissie, screaming in terror. Her plan had succeeded; the deed was done. Chrissie's tibia had cracked in two and punctured the flesh of her right leg, sticking out jaggedly, white, loud, and proud. Bright red blood spurted from the awful wound over the green school field.

'Noooooooo!' Chrissie cried manically. Pain and shock painted her face.

Cheer that, Chucky cheeks, Kelly thought. Look's like Lacy has made the team!

Coach Turner blew her whistle until her head looked ready to explode. 'Someone get back in the school and call 911 – now!' she bellowed, trying not to panic. White with fear, Dennis ran back into the locker room as fast as he could.

Kelly grabbed her right wrist and rolled from side to side, faking her injury.

'Agghhhhh! Son of a monkey! H-E-double hockey sticks! I think it's broken!'

Just like that, her friends were around here. She heard Ally, Ginger, and Julie all cry in unison. 'Kelly!'

'Get some ice!' Julie yelled.

'Don't worry, babe. You'll be okay,' Ally said.

Gretchen zoomed out from Chrissie's injury; it was so gruesomely graphic she almost lost the bagel she'd had for breakfast. The camera flew to Freddie, and she steadied the shot with trembling hands. He stood amongst the carnage with his hands on his head, taking it all in. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at Chrissie's broken bone. There was something deeper to his concern than the maimed cheerleaders around him. 'Somebody get some help! Quick! We need help!' he screamed. Tears streamed now. Gretchen's heart went out to him. She had never seen a guy look so sad in her entire life. She pulled the camera's lens away from him, and it fell on Kelly. All empathy shuddered from Gretchen's system seeing the expression on Kelly's face. It was either a grimace of genuine pain or the evilest, maniacal grin she had ever seen.

Goose-bumps rose on Gretchen's flesh.

Chapter 5

English came after cheer practice, and all anyone could talk about was the bone protruding through Chrissie's leg.

'It was so gnarly – total gross-out!'

'Dude, if that girl comes back to school anytime soon, it'll be in a wheelchair!'

'Snap-a-roonie! I was there; I saw it. She'd crippled with a capital C!'

Kelly had a tube bandage from wrist to elbow. Miss Snyder, the school nurse, couldn't find any obvious injury that Kelly had sustained, even though Kelly claimed to be in pain.

Fake pain.

She'd meeped, moaned, and groaned every time someone was near. It was as if the world around her had become an inconvenience, and just being in it caused instant agony. The other cheerleaders crowded around to pamper Kelly: They pulled her chair out, pushed it in, carried her books and bag, and placed them where she wanted them. The tube bandage was temporary, but it was a good visual.

'Fudge nuggets! I'm in so much pain.' Kelly lied.

The students in her class acted appropriately to her whining:

'What can we do?'

'Can we get you anything?'

'It could have been so much worse – you are so lucky!'

Thanks, guys,' she moaned as she sat in her chair stiff with put-on palsy. 'Don't worry, I can lead us to the game this Friday with a little rest.'

If her arm wasn't bandaged, Kelly could have put an arm around herself and patted herself on the back.

'We need you, Kelly!' Julie gasped.

'They better not be expecting us to perform that stupid new cheer now that Chrissie is out of action,' Ally snorted.

'They won't,' Kelly growled beneath her breath.

'It's her fat-assed fault!' Ginger snapped. 'She shouldn't even be on the team, let alone the top of a pyramid. All she's good for is pigging out, not pom-poms!'

'That's not fair,' Kelly sighed.

'Whatever,' Ginger snapped. 'I know I'm right.'

Ginger had a smart mouth; it was anything but perfect. But deep down, Kelly understood Ginger was right. Kelly wanted to grin, but the fake expression she wore like a mask would have split in two.

Mrs. Coombs, the English teacher, came into class and told the students to stop fussing around Kelly. A glare of rage splashed Kelly's face as the attention around her quickly dispersed as the students returned to their desks. 'Now, let's return to where we left off last time. Who could be bothered to read Araby by James Joyce for today's lesson?'

A few hands rose.

'Agh. It's good to see the draw of MTV is contributing to the uneducated masses.'

There was some low chuckling.

The door opened, and Kelly's dreamboat Danny Schaffer walked in. He wore tight blue jeans, a neon sweater with rolled sleeves, and his blonde hair was parted to one side. If Kelly's pupils could have mutated into tiny hearts, they would have been melted by the fireworks that exploded in her eyes. The live studio audience in her mind swooned with cries and whistles: 'Whooooooooo!' Who needed Zack Morris when this major league hunk was around!

'You're late, Mr. Schaffer, ' Mrs. Coombs said.

He quickly rushed in and found a seat. It was right next to Kelly – exactly where he should be!

'Did you read Araby, Mr. Schaffer?' Mrs. Coombs said.

Danny awkwardly gaped up from his seat and swung his backpack to the floor. All around the room, the other students grinned at the example Mrs. Coombs was trying to make of him.

'That's the one about how all people experience a frustrated desire for love and new experiences, right?'

Just hearing him say the word love made Kelly go giddy.

'Well done, Mr. Schaffer. You did read it.' Mrs. Coombs grinned.

'Not really,' Danny replied. 'I got the gist flipping the pages while watching MTV.'

The class laughed; the decibel of the audience in Kelly's head doubled with the addition of the adoration in reality.

Kelly swooned – what a guy! She'd changed into regular clothes after the 'accident' on the field. A sweater and skirt from the Gap, a new pair of lily-white L.A. Gears, and a splash of Calvin: she was perfect. How could he resist her?

'Love!' Jake McDonald, the douchebag meathead quarterback, snorted. 'What do you know about love, Danny boy?'

Kelly threw a quick snarl in his direction.

'I would do anythinggggg for love,' Danny sang playfully, mimicking the new Meat Loaf video. He took a copy of the James Joyce paperback from his bag and dangled it from his fingers. 'But I won't readdddd that!'

Jake chuckled dumbly.

There was more laughter in the classroom – more laughter in Kelly's broken brain.

Jeeper's creepers! He was just too funny!

Looks and a sense of humor – what a two-hit combo!

She needed to make it official; they needed to be going steady. That was the most perfect thing that could happen. It was the only thing that could happen, right? In the natural pecking order of high school life, that was how it was supposed to be, right?

They were totally destined for one another. It had to be that way!

As Mrs. Coombs went on, Kelly purred: 'Hi, Danny,' loud enough he could hear; quiet enough she wasn't caught.

He turned to her, a slight awkwardness to his movements. Was he shy and playing coy? He must be!

'Hi, Kelly.' He looked to the front of the class almost instantly. Hadn't he noticed the tube-bandaged arm that protruded upwards like an aerial?

'I had an accident – real bad,' she whispered, nodding to the proffered appendage.

'I heard,' he said, glancing at it briefly. 'You okay?'

'I am now, super-stud,' Kelly purred.

Danny nodded at her awkwardly and smiled like it pained him.

'You don't understand how bad my injury is, Danny. I almos–'

Mrs. Coombs caught wind of their conversation and cleared her throat.

Kelly took her eyes off Danny and sat upright and attentive in her chair. It wasn't perfect that they couldn't communicate, but it was understandable. Lunch was next, and he couldn't escape her in the cafeteria. Danny was a good student – a perfect one, no less. She was the one being disruptive; she'd have to be taciturn instead. Not everything could be about her … for now. As Mrs. Coombs trudged on about a book Kelly hadn't read – there was Saved by the Bell! Who wanted to read? – She turned off her brain as robotically as a flipped switch, stared at the clock without blinking, and counted every second they had left in the forty-five-minute class.

Click … Click … Click …

Two thousand, seven hundred second ticks of the clock later, the bell went, and Kelly turned on again and rejoined reality.

'Saved by the Bell!' she exclaimed as if it were a pun. Everyone was up and jetting out the door when Mrs. Coombs called Kelly over.

'What's up, Mrs. C?' Kelly grinned.

'I heard about your accident during practice and noticed you were a little … spaced today. Are you feeling okay, Kelly? Your arm feeling better?'

Kelly winced as she looked at her bandaged arm; she forgot to feign injury consistently – Not perfect! She went to pull a face to show the pain still persisted but thought against it as Mrs. Coombs' eyes held on her. 'It still aches,' was all Kelly said.

Mrs. Coombs nodded. 'You seem distant today; you've seemed distant for the last few weeks. I've noticed that the quality of your work has dipped slightly recently. Is everything okay?'

Kelly cocked her neck to one side; an awkward click came from it. Anger flushed her face. Why was she being cheese grilled just because her work wasn't up to scratch?

'To be fair, Kelly,' Mrs. Coombs went on, 'I find the quality of your work troublesome.'

Kelly's face soured.

'There seems to be a consistent inconsistency with your work. You seem to lack focus and fade in and out of sentences as if distracted. Listen to this,' Mrs. Coombs plucked one of Kelly's test papers from a pile on her desk. 'This was a question from the pop quiz last week – 'I believe Romeo and Juliet is one of the greatest tragedies of our time, but not greater than Jessie's addiction to caffeine pills. Or that one time the Bayside pond was polluted by oil racketeers in the episode Pipe Dreams. I'll never forget that poor duck covered in oil.' Mrs. Coombs tossed the paper to her desk. 'What does this even mean?'

'Okay!' Kelly exclaimed. 'Time out!' She made a T with both her hands in front of Mrs. Coombs' face, then turned to her left and began to speak to an invisible audience that only existed in her mind. 'Can you believe this? I'm getting quizzed about my quiz by Mrs. C!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's mind all laughed.

'You know, being the cheer squad leader is super stressful! I have to constantly think of the two most important things in the world – perfect hair and teeth! Scratch that! Three things. Perfect legs, too!'

Kelly did a high kick that made Mrs. Coombs jump.

The live studio audience in Kelly's mind all whooped as she showed some thigh.

'How can I think about Romeo and Juliet when my love life is as hairy as Bigfoot's butt!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's mind all howled at that one.

'Kelly!' Mrs. Coombs cried. 'Whom in the heck are you talking to?' Mrs. Coombs stared into the dead space where Kelly was communicating; there was nothing apart from the empty corner of the room. The teacher was perplexed, her face showing a little fear.

'No fair, Mrs. Coombs!' Kelly cried. 'You're supposed to stay frozen until I say time in!' Tears rolled down Kelly's face; she held her books tightly to her chest, forgetting to yelp in pain at her bandaged arm as she ran for the door. ''You're supposed to stay frozen until I say time in! That wasn't perfect!'

The sound of Kelly's feet slapping down the hallway echoed out. Mrs. Coombs turned in the direction Kelly stared to the audience only she could see and spoke into the dead space, shaking her head. 'Jeez, what an asshole.'

Ginger, Ally, and Julie were walking to the cafeteria with Gretchen filming when Kelly blew past them down the hallway. They all heard her foot stomps first, then her blubbering voice before she piled past.

'What in the blue hell is wrong with her? I thought she was one step away from being a full-blown cripple?' Ally said.

'She's plain and simply weird.' Ginger said, shaking her head.

'Guys,' Julie hissed, nodding at Gretchen's camera. 'Ixnay on the ierdway' – Capeesh?'

Gretchen dropped the camera to her side and pushed her glasses up her nose. A worried expression streaked across her face. 'Look, I know we hardly know one another that well, but can I show you something?'

The school's video production room was as dead as disco during lunch break. Gretchen drew the blinds, popped the cassette she had recorded on from the camera, and plugged it into a VCR below the fourteen-inch T.V. at one of the desks. The three cheerleaders had all pulled up chairs to watch. The screen exploded with grain, then Gretchen hit rewind, and images only recorded a moment ago played out backward.

'Hey, look!' Julie exclaimed. 'It's us!'

'No shit, Sherlock!' Ally moaned.

Ginger reached out and slapped Ally's arm. 'Zip it, Watson!'

'Give me a sec,' Gretchen said, watching the footage zoom past in reverse. 'There's something I want you to see.'

'Holy Toledo!' Ginger gasped, leaning forward in her chair to stare at the screen.

'What!' Alley said, alert and on edge.

'I have a great ass!' Ginger mused, nodding gently as her rear end wiggled towards the camera. 'A truly great ass! I'm impressed!'

'Jeez,' Julie sighed, shaking her head. 'Gretchen, what do you want us to watch anyway? Don't you have to edit this all together?'

'It's not that,' Gretchen replied, intensely staring at the screen. 'It's something I saw this morning while recording practice.'

'You got Chrissie's accident on tape?' Ginger cried. 'Gnarly! I would have bought popcorn if you'd told me!'

'Ginger, you are one seriously sick individual,' Julie said with a shake of her head.

'Yeah,' Ally added. 'Everyone knows Goobers go better with a good movie.'

'Here, look!' Gretchen cried as the three cheerleaders squabbled at each other's callous comments. She pressed a button on the remote, and the screen steadied and began to play. 'This is right after the accident.'

All of Ginger's trash talk diluted to an anguished moan. 'Oh, my god. Look at that.'

Chrissie's injury filed the screen. The muted colors of the VHS format didn't drain anything from the white bone protruding through her blood-squirting flesh.

'I think I'm gonna hurl,' Julie said, putting her hand over her mouth.

'Not that,' said Gretchen, looking away.

The camera's lens pulled away from the image; it fell on Kelly's evil grimace. She looked even more demented, blown up on the T.V. screen: eyes wide and bulging; a thick worm-like vein pulsating on her forehead; lips peeled to reveal clenched teeth.

'Oh no…' Julie said in horror.

'Old corn nuts looks like she's gone full fruit loop.' Ginger said.

'Gone full Linda Blair,' Ally added. 'What the hell is wrong with her?'

Gretchen visibly shuddered. She pulled her sweater up to her mouth and chewed on the fabric for comfort. 'I don't know,' Gretchen said, pausing the image with the remote in her other hand. 'But it's just … not right.'

The evil image of their friend flickered as if it were trying to escape off the screen. All the girls silently stared and instinctively understood: something wasn't right with Kelly.

Kelly ran to the girls' bathroom and burst through the door; she ran to the furthest sink in the corner, turned the faucet, and splashed water on her face. She forgot about her tube bandage; it became wet and heavy.

'Time-outs don't really work, Kelly,' she told her reflection in the mirror above the sink. 'We can't let the teachers think we're cuckoo, gaga, nut nut in the noodle department!'

She splashed more water on her face to wash away the pain in her brain. Somewhere deep in her head, something had started to short circuit; that thin veil that separated fantasy from reality had momentarily begun to fray. She pulled at her face as if trying to sculpt sanity back into her features. She stared deeply into her eyes; water dripped from her brow to her cheeks.

'Everything is perfect,' she whispered. 'If it's not … you can make it perfect. I know you can …'

Kelly's eyes grew wide. A hideous feeling she was being spied on loomed over her, goose-bumping her flesh. Deep within the mirror, buried beneath her reflection, the frightening feeling that something was sunk behind the glass, watching her rippled through her body.

Something that grinned out as she stared in.

'Everything will be perfect,' it quietly croaked.

Chapter 6

Freddie Hernández grabbed a tray and waited in line for whatever lunch was in the cafeteria. He wasn't thinking about eating, only hoping it would distract him from what had happened this morning. Seeing Chrissie broken and bleeding brought haunting thoughts of mortality. Eventually, getting to the lunch lady, she tossed dry pizza and slopped a cup of red Jell-O onto his tray. His mind raced to Chrissie's dry, broken bone and the gushing blood from the wound. Instantly, he didn't feel hungry. Hearing Chrissie screaming in agony, seeing her wail in endless pain, infested with a tapeworm of terror that ate through her body.

Life suddenly felt short and insignificant at that moment. His Aunt Cecilia had passed away last year; she was nearly fifty years old – over double his age. Death, pain, and agony were reserved for the old in his mind: today had contradicted that idea. He suddenly understood that he didn't have all the time in the world; everything could end just like that. There was no time to waste. Every moment was something worth living to its fullest. He was sick of living a life of half-truths. He was sick of living a lie – no matter how hard that could be. Freddie turned from the lunch lady, staring at the excuse for food served on his tray. He walked between the rows of students, scarfing down greasy food, paying no attention to where he was going while they babbled incessantly. Life wasn't full of morbidity. Someone special in Freddie's life thought Freddie was special in return. It was someone everyone else in school wasn't supposed to know about.

Someone special.

Someone secret.

He didn't want to live a lie anymore.

He wanted to live life to the fullest. He wanted–

Wham!

Not looking, Freddie had wandered straight into someone's chair. His tray flew forwards, Jell-O and pizza bolted through the air, all over the back of Jake McDonald, the douchebag meathead quarterback.

Oh shit …

The pizza slapped against his white T-shirt, leaving a cheesy red triangle on it; the Jell-O caught on his collar and splattered his shoulders. Freddie's mouth fell open in an O of shock. Jake was taking a sip from his milk carton when the food hit him. He spilled the milk all over his front. Jake was clean and well-groomed one minute, and thanks to Freddie, he looked like the insides of a trashcan the next. You could almost see waves of anger radiating from him as he turned to Freddie and said, 'Bad news, cheer faggot – you're dead!'

Chapter 7

'Now, I know you must be stupid to be a male cheerleader,' Jake sneered Freddie's title like a slur, 'But are you blind as well?'

'I'm sorry, ma–'

Jake didn't give Freddie a second to answer. Jake grabbed Freddie by the scruff of his T-shirt and slammed him on the Formica table where he and the other football shitheads were having lunch. Freddie felt plates of lunch lady slop seep into the back of his T-shirt and pants. Bobby Buchanan, Trevor Bentley, and Richie Hewett – the other football shitheads at the table – held him down, laughing and jeering as Jake stood over him.

All the other students in the cafeteria stood up, crowded around, and looked on. They knew better than to screw around with any of the school team. They'd seen the beatings delivered to anyone who'd stepped in their way before. They all became passive onlookers with impish grins and evil expressions. Never egging Jake on but never stopping him.

'Tell me something,' Jake said, 'are you a male cheerleader 'cause you're a little fruity and want to wear women's clothes? Or are you a full-blown panty sniffer who wants to bury his head in a pile of dirty jockstraps after gym class?'

'Get the fuck off me!' Freddie said, trying to kick out at the other boys who held him down.

'The princess is a fighter!' Bobby laughed.

'She's a feisty little one!' Richie heckled.

'You know, let's see if our favorite cheerleader has what it takes to be a man. Is he a panty sniffer? Or is he a panty wearer? Strip him!'

'Get off me, man!' Freddie cried as the football shitheads loomed in and tore at his clothes.

Tony and Dennis – the other male cheerleaders – were on the other side of the cafeteria talking to some of the squad before they realized what was happening. They rushed over to where Freddie was trying to fight off the football players, anger burning in their eyes.

'Hey, asshol–' was all Tony got out. Jake spun on his heels, his attention taken from Freddie, and smashed Tony in the face with a right. The sound of the punch was incredible, and any noise made by the onlookers instantly disappeared with impact. Tony was knocked out before he hit the floor. Jake grinned at the flattened boy at his feet, his wild eyes fixed on Dennis. 'You want some next?' Jake blew kisses at Dennis. Dennis looked at the decked Tony. Outnumbered by the football shitheads and their grinning audience, he quickly took off from the cafeteria down the hall.

'What a pussy,' Jake laughed. 'Now,' he said, turning back to Freddie. 'Time to fix the fairy.'

Dennis blasted down the hallway in a streak of speed. Ally, Ginger, Julie, and Gretchen were exiting the video production suite as he flew past.

'What the hell is up with him?' Ginger cried.

Dennis burst through the door to the school gym where Danny Schaffer, wearing jogging bottoms and white socks, was bench-pressing weights with some guys from the wrestling team. Dennis, out of breath and exhausted, wheezed: 'Danny! Cafeteria … Freddie is getting … beaten up …'

Danny slammed the weights back in position and sat up fast, ready for action.

Kelly was walking down the hall, talking to herself under her breath. 'Everything is fine. Everything is perfect. I am Kelly Kennedy, the head of the school spirit squad! What could be wrong? Even if a zit grew on my butt, it would still be perfect because it's my zit! Even Clearasil couldn't burn it away because it was so perfect! '

The live studio audience in her head tittered with laughter.

Semblance was seeping back into her brain again.

Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Everything was perfect.

Someone shot past Kelly so fast that her body shook with surprise.

'Holy coconuts! Put on the brakes, would 'ya!' She called after them.

The live studio audience in her head tittered out laughter again.

Then she understood who it was.

'Danny?'

Danny slammed through the cafeteria doors and headed straight to the jeering crowd. He could see Jake tearing at someone held to a table.

'Stop it! Jake! No!'

'Stay still, you little fuck!'

Then Jake yanked off the captive's jeans as he cried out. The once passive crowd cheered as Jake held the jeans over his head like a prize and swung them around. Freddie kicked out at him, trying to stop the awful incident. Jake turned on the spot, grinning, just as Danny hurtled towards him. 'Bro, you gotta get in on this. We're beating on the little fagg–'

The punch Danny laid into Jake's mouth exploded like an atomic bomb. The crowd gasped as blood burst from Jake's lips, and he folded backward, hitting the polished cafeteria floor with a dull thud.

Danny pushed his blonde hair from his blue eyes and held his steely gaze on the other football shitheads.

'Let him up,'

The other football shitheads loosened their grips on Freddie; Freddie jumped up, pulled on his pants, and ran into Danny's arms. Danny pulled Freddie close to his sweaty bare chest.

'What the fuck, Shaffer?' Bobby said. 'I thought you were one of us, one of the team.'

'Yeah, what's so special about the little queer ass?' Richie scowled.

'Leave him alone' were Danny's only words, but they were enough: hard, strong, and straight to the point.

Jake lunged up, grabbed Danny, and wrestled him to the floor. Freddie fell to one side and grabbed hold of Tony, who was still reeling in pain on the floor next to him. 'You okay, man?' Freddie asked.

'I tried to stop 'em,' Tony moaned.

'I know, man,' Freddie answered, 'I know.'

Jake quickly brought Danny to his feet and got the upper hand. He kneed Danny in the nuts and body-slammed him on the Formica table. Jake climbed on top of him, his crazed eyes and bloody mouth pushed down into Danny's face.

'You're supposed to be on our team, Danny boy! If we beat on a faggot we all beat on a faggot!'

'Fuck you!' Danny said, reaching up and jabbing his thumbs into Jake's eyes. Jake screamed.

The crowd of students broke into a chant: 'Fight! Fight! Fight!'

It was on.

Ally, Ginger, Julie, and Gretchen ran into the cafeteria. They stood frozen as Danny got his right foot up and under Jake and kicked him violently away, sending him sprawling into the table opposite. Jake splattered on plates of macaroni and soggy ketchup-filled burgers.

Kelly burst in next to them just as Jake and Danny stood and squared up to one another.

'Cheese and crackers!' she cried. 'What in the holy heck of Bayside High is happening here?'

She watched as Jake planted a left-right combo on Danny. Suddenly, Kelly felt as if she'd been turned inside out. Gretchen and the other cheerleaders gasped as they watched Kelly's face twist into the vicious visage they'd watched on the videotape. 'Not perfect!' she hissed with an animalistic air. 'Not perrrfeeeccttt attt all!' Robotically, as if by instinct, she turned and headed towards the far wall.

'Where's she going?' Gretchen gasped.

'Oh no!' Ginger cried as Kelly kicked through the glass window to the fire ax mounted on the wall.

Jake jumped on Danny again, pushing him backward and pinning him to the table they'd held Freddie on. Jake squeezed Danny's throat as Danny tried to reach up and claw at Jake's face. 'I never liked you, Schaffer,' Jake wheezed. 'There was always something off about you I didn't like. You were always so squeaky clean and–'

'Perfect!' Kelly cried. She slammed the side of the ax into Jake's face; Jake fell backward and hit the floor, his legs spread out, face bleeding. Shaking his head, trying to regain composure, Jake snapped, 'Why don't you keep your dumb-ass out of this cheerlead–aghhhhh!'

Jake screamed; the entire cafeteria went quiet. Kelly stood over him, the ax above her head. 'Not perrfectttt!' she hissed, bringing it down with an impossible might.

'Noooooooooooo!' Jake cried, pure fear stretched across his face.

The blade sunk deep and hard between Jake's legs, straight into the tiled floor, the handle erect and upright, and the top of the blade pushing into Jake's shrunken dick.

'Shit!' Jake peeped; his balls close to being busted in two if Kelly's aim had been half an inch higher.

The evil grimace wiped away from Kelly's face, and she cried, 'What in sugar-frosted cornflakes sake is going on?'

'H-he beat up Freddie,' Tony said, pointing at Jake. 'They called him a faggot and tried to strip him. Danny came in to help.'

Her face became screwed up and vicious as she glared at Jake.

Kelly turned to Danny, beaten and bleeding as he got to his feet.

'My hero!' she cried, her face becoming normal as she beamed at Danny.

'And as for you …' her face curled back to a demonic sneer looking back at Jake. 'We will not stand any bigotry or discrimination in this school! This is the nineties! P.C. is in! And If Freddie likes boys, you shouldn't even care. I know I'm proud of him, and you should be too. This school is about positivity – not hate! So get that through your thick skull … before I crack it like a nut!'

Kelly yanked at the ax that protruded from the floor; the back of the blade shot up, clocked Jake under the chin, and sent him backward – knocked stupid.

The crowd of students cheered, and Kelly's tight evil face unloosened. The live studio audience in her head was suddenly out of her head. It was all the other students!

Danny ran over to her – Look at him topless! What a slab of hunk! – And whispered in her ear.

'Meet me at the gym tonight at five o'clock. I need to tell you something. It's important.'

Kelly's heart fluttered as if it had grown wings that tingled inside her brushing her soul. She could put money on what he wanted to tell her. He was as impressed with her as the other students were for fighting back for Freddie. He was finally going to ask her to go steady! She knew it!

Far freaking out!

'Sure! See you tonight, babe!' She gave Danny a wink.

He replied with confusion. 'Erm … Yeah …'

She grinned, thinking of a big close-up of her face. Her big happy moment: she'd got the man of her dreams to commit to her, and her classmates were applauding!

Coco-puffs! Why doesn't Gretchen have her camera!

She thought of Zack, Slater, Lisa, Jessie, and Kelly Kapowski. She was so caught up in her Bayside fever dream she didn't even feel the hands of the principal on her shoulder until he spun her around to face him.

'What the hell is going on here?' Mr. Gordon – the principal – said.

'I'm in trouble, aren't I, Mr. B?' she said with a slack face.

Danny sneaked past the principal, grabbed Freddie and Tony, and disappeared out the backdoor of the cafeteria.

Jake groggily got up, realized he'd pissed his pants, and staggered out to the other side of the cafeteria.

Suddenly, she became very aware of the ax in her hand. There was something very wrong about it … but something … very familiar.

A bloodstained face appeared in her head, the laugh from the bathroom mirror in her ears.

'I think I'm in trouble, Mr. B,' she whispered as the principal dragged her to his office.

The alarm bell went off; lunch was over.

In her brain, alarm bells were ringing all right.

Chapter 8

Kelly sat opposite Mr. Gordon, as still and perfect as a mannequin. Her glazed eyes and fixed grin looked eerie in the gloom of his office. The blinds were agape slightly, and bars of light and shadow decorated the room. Now and then, one of her hands would rise as slow and brittle as a corpse's, and she'd run her fingers through one of her pigtails. Mr. Gordon had sat glaring at her from the other side of his desk with a grinning picture of Ronald Regan behind him. He watched as she gently tugged at her pigtails and squinted to make out the words whispered under her breath.

Did she say? Ding-dong?

'So, what am I in for, Mr. G?'

'Show some respect, Kelly. I'm your principal,' he hissed. 'You'll refer to me as Mr. Gordon.'

'Oh, gee! I see! No more Mr. G or its detention for me!' She clicked her fingers and somehow grinned harder.

Mr. Gordon went to say something to Kelly, to reprimand her for her insubordination towards him. Making silly childish rhymes up about her principal indeed. But instinctively, staring at her doll-like visage – fixed eyes and frozen grin – a clammy feeling crept over his flesh and stopped him from saying anything more. 'Just show some respect,' he moaned under his breath. 'I want to know everything from the top about what happened in that cafeteria. Why did the head of the cheer squad get involved with a fire ax? What in God's name possessed you?'

Kelly's brow furrowed; she pulled a face as she concentrated on a reply.

'Jake McDonald was beating up on Freddie Hernández. Like, really schmoosing him! Pounding him to paste!'

'What's that got to do with you?' Mr. Gordon barked.

'Freddie's on my cheerleading squad! I can't sit back and let him get creamed! No sirree, Bob! You get what I'm saying, Mr. G? Right?'

'Mister Gordon, Kelly.'

'Sorry! Forgot!' Kelly grinned. 'The old noodle has more holes than one of A.C. Slater's gym socks!

'A.C. who?' Mr. Gordon quizzed.

'Never mind, Kelly replied faster than lightning.

'I was only trying to represent tolerance towards others. That's what Bayside High is all about, right?'

'Bayside High?' Mr. Gordon frowned.

'Yeah, our school?'

'Silver Lake High? That's our school.' Mr. Gordon said with a concerned voice.

Kelly thought about this. 'Oh, yeah …'

Mr. Gordon gave her a flick of his eyes and inhaled a huge breath.

'This is just a game of circles,' he huffed.

'That's what Ralph Waldo Emerson said in eighteen forty-one!' Kelly grinned. 'I learned that from Mrs. Davies, my history teacher. If you want to have the answers, you have to study!'

' All I need is you to tell me the truth, Kelly,' Mr. Gordon said. 'If you're going to try and get out of this mess, I suggest you start spilling your guts – right now.'

'S-spilling my guts?' A flash of red meaty gore entered her mind. The thing hiding behind the mirror came bullying back into her memory. What in the freeze-dried fudge popsicles was it? Kelly pondered on the distant voice that growled in her head; her eyes spun around in their sockets as she contemplated what it all meant. Why the ax felt so familiar in her hand  … so good …

'Kelly!' Mr. Gordon grunted.

'Sorry, Mr. B! Mr. G! I mean, Gordon!'

Mr. Gordon shook his head slightly and sighed. 'Just tell me, nice and simple – in layman's terms, Kelly. Why did that fight break out, and why did you become involved.'

'Oh, you want to know why Zack was there?'

'Zack?'

'Yeah, Danny!'

'Danny?'

'Yeah, Danny Schaffer.'

'Yes!' Mr. Gordon squeezed his fists on the desk, enraged. 'Tell me everything you know about why that fight bro-'

'We're going to be going steady, you know?'

'What?' Mr. Gordon said with a groan.

'Danny and I, we're going to be going together – officially.'

Mr. Gordon shook his head and rolled his eyes. 'So, in your brain, does that make it okay to break out a fire ax and attack another student?'

She thought about this. 'Let me check.' Kelly's eyes rolled up as if trying to look into her brain for an answer.

Mr. Gordon's eyes almost popped when he saw what she was doing.

'Yeah, I was doing the right thing!' she answered with a gushing smile. 'It was for friendship and love!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's brain cooed at the L word.

Something glitched in Kelly's mind, and an image quickly appeared: a flash of the ax blade and pooled blood congealing into the ragged shape of a heart. She shuddered, and her face twisted to an expression of concern. 'Jake was the one who was totally out of line, Mr. B – G! Mr. Gordon! You ask any of the others who were there. I was trying to end the fight before it got any worse.'

'By chopping another student's head off?'

That other part of her that understood to cure cancer, you had to kill a few white mice and break a few eggs wanted to say, 'Yes! For sure!' but she said the opposite of her hidden instinct. 

'No! I had to get their attention! Make them stop before it got any worse! That's all I was doing, Mr. B – G! Mr. Gordon! It was an attention-getter! A cry for help! A warning siren!' Kelly imitated pulling the horn in an eighteen-wheeler truck and let out a 'Honk Honnkkkkkkkk!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's brain laughed.

Mr. Gordon shook his head. 'You're a good student, Kelly – nuttier than squirrel shit, he thought – but I can't let you go around taking an ax to other students! Even if you intended to stop the fight or–'

There was a hard fast tapping on the window to Mr. Gordon's office. Mr. Gordon looked up, and Kelly turned around. It was Miss. Peltzer, the guidance counselor.

She desperately beckoned Mr. Gordon to leave the room.

'Excuse me, Kelly,' Mr. Gordon said, getting up from his desk and exiting his office.

Kelly gave it a second and pulled the blinds down to spy in the hallway. Mr. Gordon, Miss Peltzer, and Gretchen were all talking together. Gretchen gestured to her video camera; Miss Peltzer nodded to the video camera. Mr. Gordon stared at the video camera.

What in the sugar-free Kool-Aid had Gretchen captured on that camera?

'Not perfect …' Kelly grimaced.

She was frustrated, not in control. Kelly didn't like that. The world was suddenly rotating without her. She was the star of this show! She was a Kelly, not a Jessie or a Lisa. Annoyance and anger rubbed against the inside of her skull. She had to get it out before Mr. Gordon came back in. Before he watched whatever was on–

What in the Hershey squirts was on that camera?

Kelly clenched her hands into fists repeatedly, reached up and yanked at her pigtails, and groaned: 'Okily-dokily – Ding-dong!'

Then inspiration hit her like a bullet to the brain. She ran to Mr. Gordon's desk and yanked the phone receiver from its cradle. This would relieve a little tension. A nasty grin stretched over Kelly's face as she pressed *69, then tapped out the number to NBC.

A crackly purr climbed up the wire; Kelly's nasty grin turned to a vile sneer.

The phone was picked up: 'Hello, NBC – National Broadcasting Corporation. What extension are you looking fo–'

'Warren Littlefield's office, please – the NBC president. Tell him it's a concerned fan!' Kelly barked as she always barked.

There was a muffled laugh, a sham sigh that held humor on the other end.

'What are you grinning about, bitch?' Kelly hissed.

'Surprise, surprise, it's you – the kook.'

'I'll fucking kook you! Get little-cock on the horn now! I want answers about Kapowski!'

Another snigger came from the other end. 'I guess you don't read the trades, kook,' the secretary said. 'I guess you are just some flat-headed bumpkin that stares at a screen all day in a one-room rat hole dreaming of taking a bite of Kapowski's tuna sandwich?'

'Kapowski's tuna sandwich!' Kelly gasped. 'That is a dirty-dirty-dirty term! How dare you talk about her like that! Talking about her …her … pink canoe!'

The secretary roared with laughter. 'Bad news, babe, that's one pink canoe you won't see for a while.'

'What in the fudge nuts are you talking about, you low-life switchboard slut!'

'Official news flash straight from the office of Warren Littlefield: as of today, as of one hour ago, as for the rest of the eternity – Saved by the Bell has been canceled!'

All anger, tension, and terror were sucked from Kelly's face like an enema of expression. Her eyes widened, and her mouth turned doughnut round in shock. Her top lip started to spasm; the wire to the phone she held to her ear trembled.

'Is… this … some … kind … of …' Kelly swallowed and took a deep breath; sweat formed on her brow. 'Sick … joke.'

'No. This is called network T.V., Moon Pie. Now you can go bother someone else. There is no more Zack or Slater, or Jessie. There is no more Cheerleader tuna casserole called Kapowski for you want to dip your French fries in–'

'Don't say that!' Kelly cried, quickly becoming aware of where she was. She stared at the door hoping Mr. Gordon wouldn't come back in.

The secretary let out a dirty laugh.

'Saved by the Bell is over, babe. Go tune in to Nickelodeon and watch Clarissa Explains It All. Melissa Joan Hart has got a warm cave of wonders you can drool over–'

'Dirty! Dirty! Dirty!' Kelly cried, banging the phone receiver on Mr. Gordon's desk like a hammer, trying to make the secretary's laugh disappear.

Gretchen pushed her glasses up her nose and held her camera close to her chest. There was something about Kelly that was getting under her skin. She had to show someone the tape, but a part of her hoped she'd done the right thing.

'I think we need to evaluate Kelly, Mr. Gordon,' Miss Peltzer said. 'I've seen Gretchen's tape, and there is something odiously odd about the girl. As the school's student guidance counselor, I implore you to give me some time with her.'

'What are you going to do with her?' Gretchen asked. 'Is she going to be expel–'

Mr. Gordon, Miss Peltzer, and Gretchen looked towards the principal's door and heard the hammering on the other side.

'Now what?' Mr. Gordon huffed as he marched back to his office. He flung open the door and froze: his phone was thrown on the floor, paperwork strewn next to it, and the blinds covering the windows to the outside world stretched and bent out of shape. A Kelly-sized hole was pushed through them, and a breeze shifted inside. She'd climbed out and escaped.

Gretchen and Miss Peltzer ran next to Mr. Gordon and looked on. 'Oh no …' Gretchen gasped.

Outside, in the darkness under the bleachers next to the football field, Kelly sat rocking back and forth. Her eyes fixed on nothing as they bulged and stared, transfixed on the awful thoughts that curdled in her mind. All she could do was chant to try and take some of the pressure in her skull away.

'Not perfect … Not perfect … Not perfect … Not perfectttttttttttttt …'

Chapter 9

Kelly watched the school from beneath the bleachers, trying to evaluate what was happening since her ax attack in the cafeteria and abrupt escape from the principal's office. Her face peered from the darkness like a deranged animal peering from a cave. The school was business as usual; nothing was happening outside the norm. Behind all that brick-and-mortar, they were talking about her, cogs set in motion. That was anything but perfect.

She did what she did for the greater good, but her actions exposed her. Why the ax was the apropos weapon of choice, she didn't know. But without thinking, she'd turned its glass case to shards, and its wooden handle had appeared in her hands.

Kelly made fists and gritted her teeth.

Sun warm Cheerios! Why couldn't Mr. B see I did the right thing? That Jake McDonald was setting on poor Freddie! He went for Danny Schaffer! My Danny Schaffer! Had the world gone nutzoid! Locking me in the principal's office like I did something wrong! What in the blue heck!'

Her mouth started to foam at the edges; bubbles popped at the line between her lips.

'That NBC secretary,' Kelly groaned, her voice sounding full Pazuzu from The Exorcist.

Her words.

Her filthy mouth.

'Cancelled,' Kelly moaned, thinking of Saved by the Bell.

'Not perfect!'

How could that flat-headed president of the station cancel Saved by the Bell? They should use that cunt on the front desk like a human dildo and shove her straight up his ass until her head popped from his mouth!

'Cancelled Kapowski! Not perfect …'

She couldn't imagine that it was over. No more Bayside High. It would only exist on reruns and the black shells of the VHS tapes stacked next to her T.V. in her bedroom. Could the day get any worse? Kelly's mouth dropped open into a demented death mask; her eyes stayed fixed forward and bulged. All she did was let the deep dark moans of her soul travel up her gullet and out into the tenebrous space under the bleachers. It sounded like a rusted hinge on an old door in a haunted house, slowly being forced open, only changing pitch when images of all her problems forced themselves into her mind. Everything was going wrong; everything was out of her control. Even though her life was going straight to hell in a handbasket – Saved by the Bell was gone, and the principal was on to her being a nut in a cracked shell – she didn't want him phoning home, telling Mom and Pop she was straightjacket crazy. She remembered the therapy they'd put her through years ago – what for was a mystery to her now; it was buried deep in psychobabble – and she wouldn't go through it again. She was, 'Perfecttttt,' now.

All she could do was put the positive things in her life in place and then fix the negatives later. There was no Kelly and Zack, only Kelly and Danny.

Last year she had taken the video production class Gretchen was attending this semester, and they'd taught her how to format a screenplay for T.V. and film. She had the live studio audience in her head; now, she had to formulate a plan – a screenplay for her own life – and make sure she performed it as perfectly as she could. Danny had told her to meet him later in the gym. After her display in the cafeteria, he wanted to go steady – she knew it. He'd have to be nuts not to! Her gaping face reverted to a demented grin. Meeting Danny this evening would be her first step back into her desired reality. Tomorrow morning she could be walking into school arm in arm, officially official with her high school hunk! She just had to make sure when she met him, everything went … Perfectly …

Perception is reality. Now everyone had a part to play in the reality Kelly wanted to come true.

The screenplay punched out in her mind. This was Kelly's plan to put everything right. 

INT. SILVER LAKE HIGH - GYM – EVENING

WE OPEN with KELLY KENNEDY (16) pushing the doors to the empty school gym open; her friends JULIE, GINGER, ALLY, and GRETCHEN stand two each side behind her as they all walk in. A backlight illuminates them; their silhouettes become clear under the gym lights.

KELLY (V.O.)

I'd waited for the past two years for this, for Danny and I to finally be official. The girls all wanted to see this moment – to be me in it!

Kelly looks at both pairs of girls on either side of her, gushing and grinning with envy and joy.

KELLY (V.O.)

To be fair, who could blame them?

Suddenly, the lights in the gym drop out, and a single spotlight beams down at an angle to the center of the basketball court. Danny appears in the spotlight as if by magic, wearing only a vest, blue jeans, and sneakers. His body is toned and oiled; he flicks his blonde hair from his eyes and holds a hand out to Kelly.

DANNY

'Babe, come to me.'

Kelly gasps at him – hunk-a-roonie! – but keeps her cool and slowly walks towards him. The moment is tense, steamy sexual – not too sexual! PG13 at best! They keep their eyes fixed, hot and heavy on one another until they are close enough to link fingers. Danny jerks Kelly towards him and holds her close to that tight bod.

DANNY

'Kelly, I've made a mistake not doing this sooner …'

Kelly, pie-eyed, swallows the biggest gulp ever – jawbreaker sized!

DANNY – (Continued)

'How would you like to go steady with an A-class hunk?'

KELLY

'Y-yes …'

Danny pulls Kelly to him and pushes her hair back with a furious passion – Kids' it's time for bed! We just hit NC17! – and he and Kelly tear into one another with animalistic lust. Kissing, licking, teasing, tonguing!

CUT TO:

The girls at the back of the gym swoon over the scene.

ALLY

Wow! They really are … are …

GINGER

Perfect!

Under the bleachers, Kelly held her arms out, embracing nothing and passionately Frenching thin air. 'Oh, babe!' she groaned. 'Ohhhhhh, babe!' She quickly became aware of her surroundings in the gloom as footsteps stomped overhead. Caught in a web of embarrassment, her screenplay fantasy popped like a balloon. She backed into a corner with wide eyes and arms spread against the iron latticework.

She listened, squinting upwards.

Barnacles! Who the heck was up there?

There was more than one person; there were four of them shuffling around. Kelly held her breath and listened. A voice spoke out.

'So, that's what you heard him say?'

It was Jake McDonald!

'Yeah! He said to that cheer cunt that hit you with the ax. He'll meet her in the gym tonight.'

It was one of the other football meatheads! Bobby Buchanan, Trevor Bentley, and Richie Hewett!

'Then that's what we'll do: turn up after school and pay them a little visit. Fuck school spirit, fuck team loyalty – I want payback! First, we fuck up Danny–'

The four all started to laugh.

'–Then we fuck the cheerleader.'

They all laughed.

'Let's blow this place,' Jake said. 'Let's go back to mine. The old man is out of town, and the liquor cabinet is open!'

'All right, dude!' one of his goons` exclaimed.

Kelly's mouth drew open like a vampire's ready to feed. Drool poured over her lips.

No one was going to ruin their moment … nobody.

'Not perrrfecctttttt …' she whispered.

And in her voice, a new tone broke, as if something inside her, something she didn't know secretly dwelled there, spoke for the first time.

'We'll get them, Kelly. I'll show you …'

Chapter 10

The school day pressed on. Ally, Julie, Ginger, and Gretchen were by their lockers before last period started, all worried about where Kelly was. Why had she barged through the blinds in Mr. Gordon's office and jumped out the window?

'Makes you wonder if she's screwy enough to dive out the damn window if his office was on the third floor,' Ally said before they split up.

'I'm worried about her, guys,' Julie said. 'Like, seriously.'

'I don't even know her that well, and I know something's … not right with her,' Gretchen said.

'Keep that camera rolling, hun,' Ginger laughed. 'Your movie just went from cheer practice babes to lifestyles of the deranged and neurotic.'

'Calm it, Ginger,' Julia said. 'I think Kelly needs our help.'

Then the bell went.

'Let's all meet out the front of the building after last period by the flagpole and then look around the school. She might still be here. Isn't she supposed to meet Danny?'

'Yeah, she is,' Ally said, checking she had her chemistry book.

'Okay, flagpole at three-thirty,' Julie said, taking off for class.

Ginger rolled her eyes. 'Welcome to the world of bullshit high school drama,' she told Gretchen. 'Fuck it. We better meet them. I need a ride home.' Gretchen smiled awkwardly at Ginger as they both went to class.

Mr. Gordon pressed the phone receiver to his ear, bending back the slates of his blinds. Goddammit! He'd only had these fitted a month ago, and they were more crooked than a barrel of fishhooks. The constant purr of the dial tone began to annoy him. The number he had was a cellular phone; why in the hell don't they just pic–'

'Hello?'

'Finally!' Mr. Gordon barked, quickly remembering who and why he was calling. 'Oh. Eh. Sorry. Is this Kelly Kennedy's mom? Cybil?'

There was a pause as Kelly Kennedy's aunt contemplated the question. 'Yeah yeah, that's right. Whose this?'

'Mr. Gordon – Principal Gordon. We've had a little … incident … here at Silver Lake High, and, well, Kelly is a good student, but I don't know exactly how to tell you this, Mrs. Kennedy–'

'Words and sentences usually get you to the point. What's going on?'

'Ah, yes,' Mr. Gordon replied with fake humor. 'You see, Kelly has disappeared from my office, escaped through a window, in fact–'

'Why would she need to escape from your office?'

'Like I said, there was an incident.'

Cybil sighed. 'Mr. Gordon – Principal Gordon?'

'Yes?'

'When it comes to conversation, you're about as easy to pin down as fog. What are you trying to tell me, and why did Kelly jump out of your office window?'

Mr. Gordon growled under his breath. 'She was in my office because she attacked another student with an ax.'

'With a what!'

Cybil's uninterested attitude quickly disappeared.

'There's been no injuries – from what I know. Kelly was helping a smaller boy that was being beaten up by one of the football team, and, well, she used an ax to break them up.'

'Oh, my God. No …'

Cybil stayed quiet.

'Oh!' Mr. Gordon exclaimed. 'Not break them up into pieces! The fight, I mean, she broke up a fight!'

'Oh, my god.'

Mr. Gordon swallowed hard and cleared his throat. 'Like I say, everything seems fine – no injuries. But I had her in my office, and she talked incoherently about people and a high school I'd never even heard of. Then I left the office, and she busted my blinds – my new blinds might I add – and climbed out the window and ran off. Her car's still in our parking lot, but I wondered if she was home?'

'I … I don't know …' Cybil mumbled. 'She used an ax …'

'Mrs. Dunning, I will have to suspend Kelly from her classes for her behavior. Maybe even expel her altogether.'

'An ax…' was all Kelly's aunt could keep repeating. 'An ax…'

'Yes, like I said, from what we know, nobody was hurt. But if you could find out if Kelly is at hom–'

'We're not at home. We're at the club. Charles is just finishing a game of squash, and … Stay there, Mr. Gordon. Stay at that school, and we'll be over as soon as possible. We'll find Kelly. I promise. I think we need to … chat about Kelly. Who she is …'

'Who she is?'

'Just … stay there.'

The phone went dead, and Mr. Gordon placed it back in its cradle.

He would have to stay and catch up on some paperwork, but something in the woman's voice had put the heebie-jeebies up him.

Cybil stood by the country club bar, looking out the window as her husband pounded the squash ball at his opponent. She had to get this all clear in her head. She had to be calm. She ordered a whisky and gulped it down.

'Don't be like her, Kelly,' she whispered under her breath. 'Don't be like your mom.'

The final bell went, and as planned, Ally, Julie, Ginger, and Gretchen met out front by the school flag. Gretchen told them she would patrol the perimeter to see if she could scope Kelly.

'Come back here in thirty if you don't find her,' Ally told Gretchen.

Gretchen gave her a thumbs up and disappeared into the crowds.

They watched as every student piled out and ran to their cars and bus. Eventually, the teachers all left too. As everyone slowly vanished, one thing became clear: there was no Kelly.

'This is a lost cause,' Ginger moaned. 'I should have got a lift home with Samantha Hopkins.'

'We're not here for the lift home, Ginger,' Julie said, 'we're here because Kelly is our friend, and we're worried about her.'

'Oh, yeah.' Ginger said. 'I forgot.'

Gretchen wandered back; it had already been an hour. 'No sign of her,' she shrugged. 'Her car is still in the parking lot too.'

'She's still here?' Alley said.

'That or when she did her kamikaze dive from old Mr. Gordon's office, she hit the ground running straight to a rubber room.' Ginger smirked.

'You know you really are heartless, Ginger,' Julie snapped. 'I don't know what's up with Kelly, she's always been a bit odd, but she's still our friend.'

'I'm not denying she's our friend. But look at this through objective eyes – or an objective lens. Gretchen knew somewhere in between nada and diddly-squat about Kelly. After documenting her for a morning, Gretchen's discovered Kelly's crazier than a Klansman at a white sale.'

'Oh, Ginger,' Julie sighed. 'You do say the most awful things.'

'Hey!' Ginger snapped back. 'It's not how I say it; it's what I'm saying – that girl's lights are on, but there's some faulty wiring on the top floor. Comprende?'

'Ginger, she's been odd, but to think she is … nuts? Really?' Ally added.

'Loony! Loopy! Goo-goo! Ga-ga!' Ginger cried out with joy on her face. 'Demented! Deranged! Mad! Maniacal! Mental!'

Julie had had enough. 'Ginger! You are a–'

A voice broke behind them.

'Oh, Ginger! Who are you wailing on now!'

They all turned to see Kelly standing with the falling afternoon sun behind her, hands on her hips and a grin on her make-up-covered face, dressed in her cheer outfit, pigtails high and tight on her head. The scent of perfume – Coty's Vanilla Fields – emanated from her direction.

'Kelly?' Ally said. 'You okay?'

'Where have you been?' Julie asked. 'You … disappeared from Mr. Gordon's office.'

For a moment, Kelly's eyes looked straight up, trying to stare into her brain for an answer again. 'Danny came to the window and told me to come with him, so I did.'

'Really?' Ally replied.

'Really, really! He asked me to go with him to talk. He asked to meet me and bring you, girls, along too.'

'Why? Is he okay? Is Freddie okay?' Julie said.

'What about Tony?' Ginger asked.

'Everyone is super! Just super!' Kelly beamed.

'Why does he want us to meet him?' Gretchen said.

'Today is going to be a very special day, girls. Danny wants you all to witness it. Bring your camera, too, Gretchen!'

'Special how?' Ginger asked.

'Well … Danny is going to ask me to go steady! Can you believe it!' Kelly jumped on the spot and raised her hands like a cheer routine as she said this. 'And he wants you all to be there! He wants – me! And he wants you all to be witnesses because …'

Kelly's eyes glazed; her lips trembled, and she bit them. She stared off into some unseen syrupy place between her ears and shook her head.

'… It's going to be perfect!'

Chapter 11

Kelly ushered the girls back into the school's main doors. She looked left and right in the corridor, checking that nobody was around. Gretchen watched her do this and looked straight into Kelly's lizard-like eyes as they darted around. 'What's wrong?' she asked.

'Nothing,' Kelly said distractedly. 'You girls, go to the locker room; I'll meet you there.'

'Where are you going?' Ally asked.

'I've … got to go back to see Mr. B,' Kelly said.

'Mr. B?' Ginger replied.

'B! G! Mr. Gordon!' Kelly said quickly.

'Why?' Julie asked.

'Apologize for disappearing the way I did. It was hardly a perfect exit.'

'You know Miss Peltzer was looking for you,' Ginger said. 'She thinks all your dogs aren't barking.'

'Ginger!' Julie hissed, nudging the other girl in the ribs.

Kelly stopped in her tracks, and a dark cloud seeped over her cheery demeanor. 'What do you mean Miss Peltzer was looking for me? The guidance counselor? I don't need a counselor.'

'We've all been worried about you after what happened with Chrissie Chambers this morning,' Gretchen said. 'It seemed to affect you in a … funny way.' Gretchen tried to laugh off her explanation, but they fell from her lips, clunky and awkward.

'Hey,' Julie said, 'you're not wearing the tube bandage on your arm.'

Kelly looked down to her right wrist, where the injury was supposed to be. 'Got better,' she grinned.

'That was quick,' Ginger muttered.

'What's the deal with Gretchen's tape?' Kelly asked, her grin momentarily disappearing.

'Yeah, Gretchen caught you on tape looking like a gender swap Jack Nicolson in The Shining.' Ginger said. 'Now everyone that's seen it thinks you're three beers short of a six-pack.'

Julie shot Ginger a look.

'Of course, I looked funny!' Kelly said, holding back a manic expression. 'What happened to Chrissie was terrible – just terrible!' Ally watched Kelly cross her fingers as she said this. 'But she was holding the team back. She was a third wheel, a cog with no place in the machine. About as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle!'

Even though the pressure was on her, Kelly heard the chuckle of the live studio audience in her mind. 'We're cheerleaders! We have credibility to think of! We can't go around being a billboard to some outside entity like her dad's department store! In a way, I was glad she was gone. That sounds awful, but she proved she shouldn't be at the top of a pyramid. I know I'm speaking for the rest of you, but you never liked her, did you, girls?'

The other cheerleaders all bit their lips and stayed silent. They couldn't argue with Kelly over that.

'Anyway?' Kelly frowned. 'Why did Miss Peltzer see what you'd taped this morning?' She stepped to Gretchen and loomed over her.

'N–no reason,' Gretchen stuttered. 'We were just watching stuff in the editing lounge, and Miss Peltzer walked in. Right girls?'

Kelly punched Gretchen on the arm before the cheerleaders could agree or disagree. Gretchen flinched and made a little yelping sound. 'Hey!' Kelly exclaimed. 'No fuss, no muss! You just got it wrong. Took it out of context. Misconstrued it. Plumped and perverted the truth by twisting and skewing it by not giving her the backstory of the situation, right.' There was venom in Kelly's final word.

'Sure. Yeah.' Gretchen said with fear-filled wide eyes and a nod.

'Yooooouuuu got it!' Kelly laughed.

'Now be sure to use that camera of yours to catch the big moment on film when Danny asks me the big question.'

'Sure,' Gretchen nodded nervously.

'You girls go to the locker room,' Kelly exclaimed. 'I'll be there in a minute!'

Kelly growled deep and low as she marched towards the janitor's room on the ground floor. She kept her breathing short and sharp to release the tension inside.

'Ohhhhhhh, Ice cream bars!' she huffed to herself. What had they been saying about me while I wasn't there? 'Gretchen, you should know what snitches get!' Kelly cracked her knuckles, and the sound reverberated around the empty hallways. She crept to the janitor's room; the door was slightly ajar. Slowly, preying, the door's hinges didn't whine; she pushed it open. Mr. Johnson, the balding, fat middle-aged slob in a dirty blue boiler suit, sat slumped and asleep on a worn-out desk chair. On Mr. Johnson's workbench, an old black and white set was tuned to a fuzz-filled infomercial. Exactly what Kelly was looking for was hanging from one of the belt loops of his boiler suit: the keys to the entire building. Kelly hissed to herself, staring at his filthy face filled with wrinkles.

How awfully old he looks!

Mr. Johnson really was a grotesque gonad of a man. He was just a bum with a job. All that filth on his janitor uniform – not perfect!

She crouched slowly onto all fours and slinked animal-like towards him. Of all the floors in the school, the janitor's room was the filthiest. There was an irony to it. She studied Mr. Johnson's face as she crept closer, her eyes fixed on his closed eyes embedded in all that sagging fat.

She thought the only thing that needed some irony was his wrinkly face.

The live studio audience in her mind all laughed.

Kelly was in reach of the keys she wanted and stretched out to pluck them free while balancing on the balls of her feet. Carefully, she unclipped the loop attaching the keys to his boiler suit, and wrapped her fingers around them tightly to muffle any jingle. She was just about to turn and leave when suddenly the infomercial on T.V. ended, and the hiss of static filled the air. The change in television acoustics did the unthinkable: Mr. Johnson coughed, snorted, and wetly opened and closed his mouth.

Cheese and crackers! He's waking up!

The live studio audience in her mind gasped at the horror!

Another infomercial occupied the dead space on T.V. A jaunty jingle filled the air as an on-screen host tried to hawk a Thigh Master. It made Mr. Johnson snore and drop back into a doze. Kelly quickly stalked backward as if someone had hit her rewind button. She slithered back out the ajar door, grinning, and took off down the corridor. Mr. Johnson had locked all the other doors except the main one to the school; he always did at this time of day. If Jake McDonald and the football goon squad thought they would ruin her big moment – think again, jerk-a-zoids! Sliding to a stop on the polished floor next to the school's main doors, she fumbled with every key in the lock until she found the one that snapped it shut. 'We're staying in, and you're staying out, Jake McDonald!' she exclaimed. Then pushed against the key and snapped it in the lock. 'And there's nothing no one can do about it …' she hissed.

As Kelly marched back to the girls' locker room, a sharp pain drove into her stomach. 'Oh! Melted Reece's Pieces!' she hissed under her breath. Everything she did was under the assumption that Danny was in the building, just like her screenplay daydream. Kelly yanked both her pigtails and then planted her hands on her hips. 'Ding-dong! What if he's locked outside and can't get in, Dorky Mcdorkerson!' The live studio audience laughed in her head. Kelly broke the fourth wall in her mind and spoke into a camera that didn't exist. 'Better go take a sneak peek behind the scenes!' She tossed the ring of keys in the air, caught them, and ran towards the gym. Being as sly and crafty as she had been with Mr. Johnson, she pushed the gym door ajar just enough to peek inside. Her heart throbbed like a purring motorcycle engine; he was waiting for her.

'Oh, Danny,' she whimpered. He wasn't wearing exactly what he had in her fantasy, but he looked perfect in his Silver Lake Lakers letter jacket and jeans. 'Hunk-a-rama!' she whispered. Kelly's dreamy grin faded slightly. Why was Freddie Hernández with him? This was supposed to be their moment! And why was he standing so close to Danny? 'Geez, give the guy room to breathe! What are you, some kind of oxygen thief?' she muttered. The live studio audience in her head appreciated the mediocre zinger. Danny ran a hand through his hair as if worried. 'Agghhhhh! He's worried!' she swooned. Then Freddie ran a hand through Danny's hair. 'Why is he touching him!' Kelly snapped to herself. Tony was nowhere to be seen. He'd taken a beating and gone home, just like any normal person would! That Freddie could be a bigger pest than a cockroach! 'Ding-dong!' she whispered, yanking her right-hand pigtail. 'That sounds big-time bigoted!'  She closed the door and crept back towards the girls' locker room.

Kelly spoke to the fourth wall that existed in her mind, spoke into that fictitious camera. 'That Freddie will have to learn that hanging out with his best bud will be limited now that he's a taken man! There's no such thing as a three-wheeled bicycle, and Freddie hanging around will be about as much fun as a flat tire!' The live studio audience in her head all whooped with laughter. She shrugged and, in her mind, exited screen stage right.

Kelly burst into the girls' locker room with a fixed grin, making Gretchen and the other cheerleaders jump out of their skin. 'Jesus Christ!' Ginger gasped, holding her heart. 'Now, Ginger,' Kelly admonished. 'There's no need to take the lord's name in vain!'

'What happened with Mr. Gordon?' Julie asked.

'Big misunderstanding,' Kelly said with a flip of her hand. 'It was all just a misconstrue!' She moved to a mirror above one of the sinks, plumping her pigtails, checking her eyes, and straightening her uniform. Adding extra points of perfection to perfection was perfection personified times ten! 'I look great!' Kelly grinned.

'If you do say yourself,' Ally muttered.

'Danny is in the gym,' Gretchen said. 'We heard him come in.'

'Oh! He is!' Kelly cried with mock shock. 'Boy, I feel flush.'

'So go stick your head down a toilet,' Ginger sighed. Julie nudged her.

'Let's go and see Danny, Kelly.' Ally said. 'I don't know why you need us here for this. We're your friends, and we want to support you, but–'

'You have to be here because that's what it says in the script!' Kelly snapped, a flare of anger firing through her face.

'Script?' Ally said.

'I mean … we should document this. Gretchen, fire that camera up, and let's get into formation!'

'Formation?' Ginger said.

'Yeah, just like when we blocked it out in my mind.' Kelly replied.

'What?' Julie said.

'Look, two on each side of me, so I'm in the middle. Ginger and Gretchen are on one side of me, Ally and Julie on the other. That makes sense, right?'

'Yeah … sense. Let's get this over with,' Ginger moaned. 'I just want to go home.'

Reluctantly the other girls all stood in the places Kelly wanted them to be, all poised to burst through the locker room's rear doors to the gym. Gretchen raised the VHS camera to her shoulder and pressed record. A red circle appeared in the black-and-white viewfinder. This morning she was reporting on the cheerleaders of Silver Lake High; now … who knows what this was? A part of her was terrified at what was happening in Kelly's brain.

'Ready?' Kelly asked.

The other girls said nothing.

'On my mark,' Kelly braced herself and became poised.

'Lights! Camera! And … Action!' Kelly marched forward, and the other girls quickly followed. Kelly pushed the doors open wide so they could all breeze through, the fixed grin on her face almost splitting.

Everything was perfect.

Everything was about to be not perfect.

Chapter 12

Danny and Freddie turned towards the girl's locker room door, and Danny visibly winced at Kelly strutting in leading the pack. Danny didn't walk over and stand in the middle of the basketball court, nor did the lights go out or a spotlight beam illuminate him. Danny just stood there still with Freddie close to his side. He closed his eyes slowly and swallowed, then looked at Freddie. Poor Danny! Kelly thought. He had a black eye and bruises on his face! Freddie looked pretty bad too!

Freddie said, 'Look, I get it if you don't want to do this–'

Then Danny cut him off. 'No. No … we're doing this.'

Freddie smiled and nodded gently.

Kelly made it to the center of the gym; stood where the screenplay she'd written in her mind told her to. 'So, hunk, is there something you want to tell me?'

Danny walked towards them, Freddie by his side.

'Do you have to have that thing glued to your face, Gretchen?' Danny said, nodding to the camera. 'I'd rather you didn't.'

'Sorry,' Gretchen said, lowering the camera.

'No. Keep it rolling!' Kelly demanded. 'I want this moment for eternity.'

Danny became annoyed as he stopped ten feet away from the cheerleaders. 'Look, Kelly. I think … I …'

Freddie put his hand on Danny's shoulder. 'Let's just forget it, man. You don–'

'I do,' Danny replied.

'Do what? What do?' Kelly said, her eyes flicking between them.

'Hey, wait a minute,' an idea popped into Kelly's mind why Tony wasn't there.

'Is Tony okay? He was with you guys earlier, and now he's not. Is that what you're upset about? Has something happened?'

'Tony is fine,' Freddie answered. 'He's pretty dinged up, but he went home.'

'Coolio to the maximum!' Kelly said.

'Kelly, you didn't have to bring the other girls,' Danny said. 'I think what I need to say should be between you and I.'

'Kelly said you asked us to come?' Julie said.

Kelly spoke quickly to try and cover her lie. 'It's not a problem? Is it Danny?'

Danny stayed silent for a moment. 'I guess not,' he replied.

'Well,' Kelly beamed. 'Say it, stud!'

Danny took a deep breath. 'I wanted to say thanks for today, Kelly. For what you did in the cafeteria. I know you will be in major crap – I know I will be in major crap, but things have to change around here.' Danny gestured to the other cheerleaders and Gretchen. 'You girls all know me as one thing. This thing you've built up in your mind. Danny Shaffer, the so-called football stud. I'm expected to be this … thing … this idea …  And, as time passed … I know I'm living a lie.'

'You don't have to give us a big speech,' Kelly said. 'Just get to the point. I think we all know what you're going to say.' Kelly gave a cocky look to the girls on either side of her and then fixed her lascivious grin back on Danny.

'I do have to give you a speech. You deserve it, Kelly,' Danny said. 'What you said this afternoon, after what happened with Jake, about bigotry and discrimination, you were right. This is the nineties! You should be who you want to be!'

'You should be with whoever you want to,' Kelly grinned.

'That's right, Kelly,' Danny nodded. 'That is exactly right.'

Danny took his eyes from Kelly and then held them on Freddie.

Something shuddered through Kelly as Danny did this.

Danny turned back to the girls. 'I'm glad you are all here to hear this. I hope you'll understand more than the damn football team.'

'Jealously!' Kelly grinned.

'Well, I don't know about that.' Danny replied.

'It's fine!' Kelly grinned. 'We all know what you are going to say!'

'You do?' Danny asked.

'Sure!'

'And you're okay with it?' Danny asked.

'Over the moon with it!' Kelly grinned.

'It's like this,' Danny said. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

'Say it!' Kelly gasped, her excitement ready to pop.

Danny held his gaze on Kelly and looked at the other girls. Once it was out, it was out. Nothing would ever be the same.

'It's like this …'

'Yes!' Kelly cried, biting her quivering lips.

Danny swallowed again. Then he said the words bottled in his throat.

'I'm gay. And Freddie and I are a couple.'

There was pin-drop silence in the gym at that second.

Kelly tensed up and froze to the spot. Her mouth fell open, gaping, eyes wide with surprise.

'But … but … but … but …' was all Kelly could blubber.

A smile spread from ear to ear on Ginger's face, and she began to slowly clap; its echoes rang out like the death knell, and in a way, it was. Inside Kelly's broken, T.V.-skewered brain, any last shred of sanity started to crack like stepping on ice. Her ideas of substituting reality with fan-written Saved by the Bell screenplay were dead. The girls all shifted around to see Kelly's expression; their own faces a tableau of terror.

'Gretchen, fire that camera up,' Ginger grinned. 'This is what you call a Kodak moment! Get Kelly's face – it's a classic!'

Ally broke the awkwardness, 'That's great, guys! Like totally! Like …' Then quickly shut up. The other girl's scared eyes stayed fixed on Kelly.

'G-gay,' Kelly stuttered. 'Like two old friends having a gay old time? Like The Flintstones, right?'

'We're a couple, Kelly,' Danny said.

'L-like a couple of g-good friends, right?' Kelly stuttered.

'We're together, Kelly.' Danny said.

'T-together like a couple of old pals, r-right?' Kelly stuttered.

'No, Kelly,' Freddie butted in to say. 'Danny and I love each other. We are a couple.'

'Why do you think I've never dated you properly, Kelly?' Danny said. 'I've tried to live in this mold, this stereotype. The football star and cheerleader. But that's not reality. That's not who I am. I messed you around, and I'm sorry. I was just confused. But this is who I am. I don't care if I get kicked off the team. I can't live a lie anymore! Freddie is right; we love each other.'

'L-love,' Kelly said desperately. ' L-love each other like bosom buddies?' Silent tears ran down her cheeks. 'L-like Zack and Slater!'

Then Danny and Freddie held hands and squeezed. 'Like boyfriends, Kelly.' Danny said.

That was when everything in Kelly's mind caved in on itself, and she began to scream. 'CORN NUTS! 'TARTAR SAUCE! COCONUTS!' HOLY GUACAMOLE! FUDGE NUGGETS! COCO-PUFFS! HERSHEY SQUIRTS! SUN WARM CHEERIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOS!

Kelly spun on the spot, everything in her short-circuiting as she screamed. The screenplay behind her eyes was torn into a million pieces and tossed around the inside of her skull like confetti. 'THIS ISN'T PERRRRFECCCTTTTTTTTTT!' she cried and then tore off towards the girls' locker room. She blew the doors open and disappeared inside.

Danny held his throbbing head as Freddie put his arm around him. 'I've told her for the last year I wasn't interested … I thought today … she might have … known … or understood.'

Julie threw her arms around Freddie and Danny. 'I'm proud of you both, I really am. She'll be okay. We'll find her.'

'She has this idea that everything is like a damn sitcom. The world has a place for everyone, and they must fit in.' Ally said.

'I feel bad,' Danny said. Freddie put his arm around Danny.

Julie, Gretchen, Ally, and Ginger all hugged the two guys.

'It'll work out,' Julie said.

'Yeah. Don't worry,' Ginger said, holding back a smirk, looking at the doors where Kelly ran through. 'You two being so honest, well, now that really is perfect.'

Chapter 13

Kelly ran down the empty school hallway, her footfalls cold and lonely on the polished tiles. Tears streamed from her face as she fled. It wasn't supposed to be like this! She played her part in making everything perfect, and the greater gods of perfection had let her down!

'It's not fair!' she howled. 'It's not faiirrrr!'

Kelly ran into the girls' bathroom on the third floor and slammed the door behind her. She ran to one of the sinks and pounded her fists on either side of the dreary water-stained mirror above it. All her hard work making her face look perfect had washed away with her tears; she was a streaked mascara mess. Kelly let out a loud shriek and pulled at her pigtails.

'Ding-dong! It's all gone wrong!'

There was no studio audience in her mind to laugh at her comedy rhyme, just cold dead silence. Kelly stopped snorting and snuffling and stared at herself.

'Oh no …' she whined petulantly. 'I've been canceled! Just like Saved by the Belllllll!'

More tears poured down her face as she howled in sadness.

'It's all gone wrong! No more Saved by the Bell! No more Kapowski! And to top it all off, my hunk of a boyfriend is a queerrrrrr!'

Kelly lowered her forehead to the cold enamel sink and sobbed until her throat hurt.

'I gave him my heart,' she snivelled. 'I gavvveeee himmmm myy heaaarrttt!'

Dramatically, Kelly threw her arms in the air, staggered backward to one of the stalls, and slumped inside on the toilet. Her ass hit the plastic lid hard, legs outstretched, as she sunk her face into her hands to shield it from the realities of the world.

'He doesn't likkeee meeee,' she sobbed over and over. 'He doesn't like meeee! I'm supposed to be peeerrrffeeeccttt!'

She made boohooing noises as she stomped her feet.

Everything rolled around and around in her mind. Kelly felt empty but was brimming with problems. Her brain jerked around her skull like a pinball hitting the flippers. When she woke up this morning, everything was on a trajectory to be A-Okay; now everything was in no way okay!

She deliriously whispered into her palms.

'It shouldn't be this way ...'

A cold shiver shuddered through her body.

'It wasn't meant to be this way ...'

Her eyes were heavy and began to blink shut. The shock had shattered her system, and she began to close down.

'What can I do to make him love me ...'

Her breathing became calm and slow.

'What can I do to make him-'

Sleepy … So sleepy …

A sudden sharp pain shot through the top of her body and ended between her legs like a cold bolt of lightning. Kelly shot up, braced herself on the stall walls, mouth a gape, eyes budging at the throbbing pain that had nested in her nether regions.

'What the-'

Then, something atrocious happened. Something grew deep inside Kelly's body, either in her stomach or womb. Kelly clutched her belly in pain; something snaked and writhed within her.

'What in the Pop-Tarts is–'

Kelly's feet slipped from under her, and her ass fell back on the toilet seat, legs akimbo.

'Fudge sticks!'

She moaned as thick rivulets of sweat formed on her forehead.

Under the flesh of her belly, something began to squirm in her innards, coiled like a long fat maggot trying to escape.

'Get it out of me!' Kelly cried.

Then it found a way. The thing inside her was riding down her tubes and began to painfully push from her vagina.

'Oh no!' had Danny telepathically impregnated her?

'I don't want his gay babyyyyy!' she cried.

Her hands went to where the oddity was being born. She reached under her cheer skirt and grabbed the tip of the sticky shaft protruding from her. Gritting her teeth, trying to ignore the pain, she yanked the bulbous head pushing free from within. It shifted forward in a thick, meaty jarring motion, slipping between her fingers. She looked down at the long pink shaft that grew from her, covered in creamy white fluid; it reminded her of an industrial video they'd watched about how sausage was made in class. The living length was twelve inches long, lined with thick veins and spurting fluid from its end. Then Kelly understood what it was; her face widened in sickening shock.

'I'm growing … a real ding-dong!'

That's exactly what was growing, a great big dirty penis! It moved blindly and snake-like as it became longer and longer, waggling like a divining rod that had just found water. This was nightmare personified; how could she be growing a great big pulsating pecker! A spitting cheesy chode!

In disgust, Kelly reached down, grabbed the sickening schlong, and yanked hard. But as her hands slid up the shaft, at its vile sperm-seeping end, tiny teeth bit into her finger.

'Yowwww!' Kelly cried.

An awful high-pitched laugh broke from the helmet.

'What in the ice cream bars is thisssss!' Kelly wailed.

Then the cock twisted around. A fiendish face grinned at Kelly on the underside of the bulbous tip. A face she recognized only too well.

'Freddie!' Kelly yelped.

Freddie's tiny face began to howl with laughter. 'Think of the possibilities, Kelly!' it peeped. 'Not only can you give Danny what he wants, but you can also stick me in Kapowski's tight little cream pie!'

'Nooooooo!' Kelly moaned.

'Why not!' Freddie's cock face beamed. 'You know they say: spare the rod and spoil the child! Everyone wants a piece of me! Even your butt-fucking boyfriend! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!'

'Pleaseeeee!' was all Kelly could say as she tried to pull away from the glans gone mad.

Suddenly, the talking cock pulled out from her in an endless reel of rope. It shot out and twirled around its owner, binding her to the toilet. The awful end stood upright in her face, warm joy juice popping from its cap, splattering her face, and matting her hair. Kelly threw her head side to side to avoid the smegma spray. 'Hey, Kelly!' the hood's horrible face laughed. 'If you've ever thought about indulging in any self-flagellating incest fantasies, now's the time!'

Kelly went to scream, 'Stop ittttttttttt!' But her cry became a muffled moan as the sentient schlong forced itself forward, pushed between her lips, and thrust itself down her throat. As Kelly choked on the chuckling cock, as it fed itself down her deep-throating gullet, she could feel its awful laugh rumbling inside her. All she could do was let out a muffled moan as the veiny oversized phallus pushed deeper and deeper and deeper–

Kelly awoke with a scream and fell off the toilet seat in a heap.

'Just a dream …' she coughed, holding her throat. 'Just a dream.'

The giant cock was just a dream, but it was born from the nightmare that her life had become. She pulled at her pigtails; 'Ding-dong! Just a dream!' Would this be a regular occurrence from now on? Haunted by the humiliation of being jilted for a Johnson!'

Get out of my head … I don't want these thoughts.

Why couldn't it have been Julie or Ally, Danny was dicking? Why couldn't that tramp Ginger have sat on his face like she had Coach Conners? Why couldn't it have been one of the other cheerleaders!

Kelly pulled herself from the bathroom floor and slunk out of the stall toward the mirror she'd stared into.

'Oh,' she sniveled to her reflection. 'He did push me aside for another cheerleader.'

Kelly turned on the faucets, popped in the plug, and filled the sink.

'But it was a male cheerleaderrrrrr!' she howled.

Kelly flopped forward and dunked her face fully in the running water. Maybe if she stayed like this long enough, she could drown herself. Bubbles forced themselves out of her mouth to the surface. Then a submerged sound caught in her ears, a croaking, far away vile voice.

'Kellllyyyyyyyyyyy …'

A bubble blubbed from her mouth as she opened her eyes, staring at the sink's chipped porcelain.

'Kellllyyyyyyyyyyy …'

Again, that awful voice.

It wasn't the foul Freddie cock from her dream.

It was someone else …

Coldness fell over her, and Kelly pulled herself up to stare into the mirror. She blinked away water and tried to focus. The face that stared back from the mirror wasn't her own. Kelly gasped. It wasn't her visage, but one, somehow, she recognized.

Big brunette hair – like her own; brown eyes – just like hers. But the pale skin and the fur coat were blood and gore-soaked.

'Oh, my–'

Before Kelly could say anything else, the woman on the other side of the mirror lunged towards her, shattering the glass and escaping its confines. An awful cry rattled through her bloodstained lips. 'Uggghhh-aaaagggghhhhhhhhhh!' She grabbed onto Kelly's shoulders and pulled herself free of the mirror.

Kelly fell back onto the floor, curled up, and screamed as the phantom female loomed over her. It leaned down, grabbed her pigtails, and yanked so hard Kelly was sure it had scalped her.

'Ding-dong! I'm back! It cried. 'And you and I, girl, we need to talk. And trust me, you ain't 'gonna like 'what ya hear!'

Chapter 14

'I should have thought about Kelly; I've been too wrapped up in myself … in us,' Danny said to Freddie as they sat on the bleachers in the gym.

There was silence between the cheerleaders and Gretchen, who sat on either side.

'You did the right thing, Danny,' Julie said. 'You were honest.'

Danny looked to Freddie, and he nodded solemnly back. 'You've tried to tell her time and time again about us. Heck, you even wanted her to be the first person that knew. But like you said, whenever you two were alone, she acted like it was a date – even when it wasn't.'

'Sounds like how the walking fruit basket operates,' Ginger said.

'What is it with you, Ginger?' Julie barked. 'Your nihilistic attitude has been launched into orbit all day, especially when it comes to Kelly.'

'Come on!' Ginger gasped. 'Let's inject a little reality into the situation. No offense to either of you guys,' Ginger nodded to Danny and Freddie, 'It might come as a shock you two announce you are a couple out loud. However, the only person who wouldn't have already picked up on some homo-erotic tension between you both is a bona-fied flat head, a smooth brain, or someone whose dogs aren't all barking.'

Freddie held back a laugh at Ginger's words.

'Home-erotic tension,' Danny grinned at Freddie.

Julie held a hand to her head as if the greatest headache of all time had just erupted there. In a way, it had; its name was Ginger. 'Ginger,' Julie exclaimed. 'There is something to be said about the blunt manner.'

'Yeah, it's blunt. No messing around. It gets you straight to the point.'

'Ginger, you don't seem like a cheerleader,' Freddie asked.

'I'm not. I just do this cheer crap because it's easy.' Ginger replied. Everyone thinks I'm all school spirit and bake sales, and because of it, I'm left alone.'

'But really, you're all about using Coach Conners' face as a seat?' Danny smirked.

'Hey!' Ginger exclaimed. 'I'm not judging you two about what you put where. I'd expect a little mutual respect in return. Jesus, I need a smoke. You two got a smoke?'

Danny and Freddie shook their heads.

'Guys,' Gretchen said. 'Can I be honest with you?'

'Sure,' Alley replied.

'Kelly scares me.'

No one replied.

An eerie silence made the gym feel hollowed out like a pumpkin.

Ally rubbed the back of her neck. The feeling of cold bare feet walking over her grave shot up her spine.

'Seeing the way she's acted today. Seeing her face on that video … I think something is wrong with her.' Gretchen said.

Julie sucked in a slow gasp of air. 'I worry about that too.'

'I should have been honest with her sooner.' Seriousness came back into Danny's face. He pushed his hair from his eyes; guilt twinkled in his pupils. 'I should have been honest to you sooner, Freddie. I'm sorry.'

Freddie held Danny's hand and smiled.

'I get it,' Freddie said.

'It's not going to be easy,' Ally said to the two boys. 'None of us have a problem if you're a couple.'

'It's just the football team.' Danny said. 'Jake and those bozos will love this.'

'It's their problem,' Freddie said.

'It's my problem,' Danny replied. 'We might think we all live in some politically correct world because Oprah talks about it once a week on T.V., but that's just not reality. That shit-bag Jake McDonald is reality. Him and all his douchebag buddies. And more of his kind are out there – in this school – than us.'

'You've always said you never liked Jake and those assholes anyway?' Freddie answered.

'I don't. But now, they have a good reason not to like me.'

'No matter what happens, like I said before, I'll be there for you,' Julie nodded.

'Same for me,' Ally said. 'You like who you like in this world. Does it matter to anyone else?'

'That goes for me, too,' Gretchen said with a grin.

Ginger shrugged and pushed her hair behind her ears. 'What can I say? We have more in common than I expected. We all like to rock the cock.'

Everyone laughed. Even Julie, who'd given Ginger a grilling all day, snorted out a laugh.

'Honestly, guys,' Gretchen said. 'It's Kelly who I'm worried about the most. Everything that's gone wrong today with Chrissie Chambers and her using the ax, now this, I really think–'

'All her dogs aren't barking.' Ginger said seriously.

The silence returned all around them again. It was thick, ominous, and palpable.

'We should go find her,' Danny said. 'The least I can do is talk to her and explain.'

'What, it's you – not her?' Freddie said. 'Let's straight talk for a minute. I find Kelly's wholesome, all-American pom-pom-powered attitude annoying, but she's upset about this. I don't want her hurting anymore.'

Gretchen smiled at Freddie's words.

'I know,' Danny replied. 'Come on. Let's go and find her.'

Ginger elbowed Gretchen, winked, and whispered. 'Before any more nuts fall from the monkey tree and Kelly ends up in a rubber room.'

'Oh. Ginger,' Gretchen sighed.

Chapter 15

Kelly backed up, her hands and feet crunching through the broken glass of the smashed-through mirror. 'You can't be real!' Kelly babbled. 'You're just a dream! Like the dream about the phallus with Freddie's face!'

Kelly backed into the bathroom door with a thud, nowhere else to scuttle.

'Can you see me? Can you hear me? Then I must be real, dork breath!' the phantom woman said.

Kelly shook her head from side to side violently; her brain felt like it was slapping the inside of her skull. She took in the mystery woman: big backcombed hair, her face smeared with blood that matted her thick fur coat, runway model legs, and high heels. It was all so familiar.

'Look at me,' the woman said as she moved closer, her high heels clinking in the broken glass. 'Look at me.'

Kelly's breath hitched in her throat.

'Do you recognize me?' the bloody woman said.

'Are y-you a fragment of my messed up mind because I've seen some of those late-night horror movies? I'm so sorry I watched t-them! They're not perfecttttt!'

Kelly began to cry.

'Quit the blubbering bubblehead. You want everything to be like T.V., well Saved by the Bell, don't cut it. You've spent too long trying to replicate PG-rated boob tube shows when the only thing that'll put you forward in life is going hard R, like me. Thing is, you went gaga for perfection and instead went the other hard R - full retard.'

'I d-don't get i-'

Kelly couldn't finish her sniveling reply; the woman reached down and grabbed her right pigtail and yanked it with all her force.

'Ding-dong!'

'Ow!' The pain of the hair pull ended Kelly's crying.

'You're the one who just got cock blocked by some beaner cheerleader. What's wrong with you? Having dreams of growing a cock longer than King Kong's schlong. The fucking thing even had a face. Maybe the phone fuck at NBC has a point. Maybe you are just an oven-baked, fully risen nut loaf.'

'N-nut loaf?'

'Ding-dong!' The woman pulled Kelly's pigtail again.

'Owwww!'

'Kook! That's what she called you, kook!'

'How'd you know she called me a koo–'

'Ding-dong!'

'Ow! Stoppit!'

'You are a kook! Cock dreams and lying on a bathroom floor in a cheer outfit talking to your dead mother. I think that slut mouthed secretary had a point.'

Kelly's eyes grew to the point of popping; her mouth fell ajar as if its hinges had broken. 'Mom? Y-you're my … mom?'

'Geez, Louise. They really did a number on you, kid. Yeah, your mom. Christie Kennedy – think about it! We need to pick the locks to that attaché case you call a brain. All the important stuff is locked away in the bone walls of your skull.'

'But you can’t be my mom... My mom is Cybil-'

'Ding-dong!'

'Ow! Will you stop that!'

'I will when I can yank some sense into you! Cybil is your aunt, dweeb breath. You know this, but it's been couched in all that trauma stirring in your mind. You're so messed up you think she squeezed you out.'

'Then dad isn't my dad?'

'Not through a lack of trying.'

'Hun?'

'No …' Christie grinned. 'Let's just say your old man split.'

'Where'd he go?'

'Straight down into the pit so he could suck on Satan’s big spike.'

'That’s not perfect to say things like that, mama … that's not perfect at all.'

'Ding-dong!'

'Ow! Leave my hair alone!'

'Shut up with that perfect crap! I’m the originator of that crap, so don't use it on me. It's like trying to use a witch's black magic on herself. It just ain't gonna happen, honey. And you can leave all that P.C. crap at the door too. That stuff stinks more than a week-old diaper.'

'Why are you here?' Kelly demanded, her tears drying on her face.

'Six million dollar question, ding-dong. You have a problem. You never listened to Mama's advice; you just spouted it like you knew what it meant. I told you that you had to be cutthroat to be on top. But you're as soft as old wood, and the house of cards you built has come crashing down. It's time for a little overhaul; it's time for a renovation. Time to cut the soft wood out like lumber. Your fella is into pulling planks rather than petting pussy - that ain't right. He's a full-blown homo, and you'll be sitting on the bleachers on prom night twiddling your pigtails while your boyfriend's spinning on a male cheerleader's baton.'

'That's not P.C.! Freddie is–'

'Ding-dong!'

'Owwwww! I said stop that! Quit that P.C. pussy crap. This ain't about him being queer. It's about you not being the perfect little star of the T.V. movie of the week. It's about you losing everything you worked for. You have to be cutthroat to be at the top. And you can't let anyone push you down. All these peckerheads that pretend to be your friend will be laughing behind your back because you're a fag hag, second-hand goods, half the woman you could be because a tight muscled butt boy jilted you.'

'I think-'

'Don't! Let me ask you something. Did you ever hear your so-called mom and dad talk about me?'

Kelly shook her head. 'Never.'

'Why is that?'

'I don't know ...'

'Because I went out with pride and dignity. The world tends to repeat itself, and you, my little pigtail-wearing baby, are stuck in a loop. I fixed my loop - paid the ultimate price – I’m dead. But I’m here to help you learn from my mistakes. You're in a tough situation, kid, but a unique one. The world has shrunk down to the size of this school.'

'Huh?'

'Everyone who knows your little peccadillo is in this building.'

'Why do you mean?'

'Ding-dong!'

'Yowch! My head hurts!'

'Good!'

'The only people that know you're the shunned result of the team captain turning twink are in these four walls.'

'What?'

'It's an isolated incident! Everyone who knows your boyfriend is gay is right downstairs. You want to be perfect, right? You want that sadness to go away, right?'

Kelly shuddered in a breath of air and nodded.

'You want him back? Want to save face?'

Again, Kelly nodded.

'That Freddie is the one that ruined all this. He needs fixing.'

'H-how?'

'Frame the fairy.'

'For what? Falling in love?'

'No, dweeb breath.' Christie shook her head; the wet blood on her pale flesh glistened in the overhead lights.

'I’m not sure if you're up for the job.'

'What job?'

'To save your skin. Your reputation. To make things perfect. Do you want to be perfect?'

'Yes, of course ... more than anything.'

'Good. Mama knows what's best. And if you want to be back on top ... things have to get a little ... messy.'

Kelly began to shake her head. 'This is too much! You're not my mom! This isn't happening!'

'It is, you little brain-dead bitch! Why would I come here to lie to you! I'm telling you the truth! I know what you're capable of! You're me, and I'm you! It's in our blood!'

'NO!' Kelly cried.

She quickly got up from the bathroom floor, spun around, and flew through the door into the hall. Kelly pounded her feet on the polished floors, running nowhere in particular but trying to escape the blood-splattered woman that claimed to be her mother.

It can't be true – it can't!

A pair of rough, heavy hands lurched out of nowhere and wrapped themselves around Kelly's right arm, jerking her to a stop. Kelly's feet gave way from underneath her, she almost fell to the floor, but the tight grip on her kept her balance. The hands spun her around, bringing her face to face with their owner.

'What the hell are 'ya running in the halls for! Do you know what time it is? Why are you still here?' It was that jerk-off janitor, Mr. Johnson. How dare he grab me with his filthy working class, creepy custodian hands! Kelly thought.

'Get off of me!' Kelly cried, pulling against his grip.

'Calm the hell down,' Mr. Johnson barked. His breath smelt like coffee and cigarettes. 'You see a set of keys round here? I lost my set of keys. The sons of bitches slipped their loop, and they're gone. I was sitting in there with the fucking T.V. going, and they just disapp–'

Kelly zoned out as Mr. Johnson nodded over his shoulder to the open door of his janitor's office. She could hear the opening bars to a show playing through its small mono speaker:

♪ Love and marriage, love and marriage

They go together like a horse and carriage

This I tell you, brother

You can't have one without the other ♪

She knew what Mr. Johnson had been watching in his filthy little room, that dank, skanky, adult sitcom where the studio audience cheered and whooped for that dopey pervert dad and cheap trashy red-headed mom!

'Not perfect …' Kelly growled as Mr. Johnson went on. '–like I say, you shouldn't be in here. The front door to the building is jammed shut. I can't get the fucking thing open – excuse my French.'

The theme tune continued to play:

♪ Love and marriage, love and marriage

It's an institute you can't disparage

Ask the local gentry

And they will say it's elementary ♪

Images of all the awful things that had ruined her day flashed in Kelly's mind: Chrissie Chambers; The bitch on the reception of NBC; Jake McDonald; and her Danny – turned the other way by that little butt pirate Freddie Hernández. Saved by the Bell was gone; Kapowski had indeed been canceled. And here was Mr. Johnson, the greasy gonad custodian, watching that other Kelly – the brain-dead, bleach-blonde bimbo that paraded around in short skirts looking like a broomstick in a trash bag.

'Married with Children …' Kelly growled, her eyes glazed. 'Kelly Bundy … Not perfect …'

Suddenly, something jangled to the floor, and Mr. Johnson's face dropped, then reconfigured to a tight frowning sneer. 'You took 'em!'

The keys to the school had dropped from her beneath her bra where she'd stashed them. Kelly saw everything she hated in the world rolled into one in Mr. Johnson's curled face. Everything had to stop. 'NOT PERFECT!' She cried and then pushed Mr. Johnson backward down the stairs. Mr. Johnson's scream didn't even last a second. Instantly going ass over teakettle, his head hit the steps, and a sickening crunch jutted his neck in a direction it shouldn't go. Blood sprayed from his lips as he tumbled to the ground floor, hitting the tiles with a cold dead thud. Kelly stood at the top, looking down at her handy work. A sneer creased across her face, and a twisted joy vined through her body for the first time in hours.

'We're the same, Kelly,' her dead mom hissed beside her.

'He wasn't perfect,' Kelly seethed.

'He is now,' Christie sniggered. 'I knew you had it in you. Feels good, don't it.'

Kelly looked down at Mr. Johnson's body, his head lolling to one side, blood pooling from his gaping mouth.

'Feels good,' Kelly uttered. Breathing heavily, she stared at her handy work.

'Now you know what to do, Kelly,' Christie said. 'You have to be smart. You need to listen to your Mama. We can straighten Danny out – get him back. Why would he want to slide down Freddie's shaft when he could be plumping up your pussy? Especially when he discovers that lover boy is responsible for this … and more.'

Christie nodded to the janitor's body.

Kelly turned and stared at her blood-soaked mother. Her pale dead skin was almost glowing in the gloomy stairwell. 'Frame the fairy.' Christie said, and Kelly grinned like she never had before. A loud banging came from the front of the school doors; someone was trying to get in.

'Deal with that,' Christie said, nodding to Mr. Johnson's body.

'Then, whoever that is … we deal with them.'

Chapter 16

Charles and Cybil Dunning pulled into the Silver Lake High parking lot.

'Look!' Cybil exclaimed. 'There's her car!'

'I'm sure everything is okay,' Charles said dully. There was irritated boredom in his voice.

'Okay!' Cybil snapped. 'She attacked a student with an ax! They're talking about expelling her!'

Charles calmly pulled their BMW up next to Kelly's V.W..

'We don't know what exactly happened here. Let's not jump to conclusions.'

'No, we don't know. And I'm sorry if worrying about Kelly distracts you from your club day.'

'I'm not say–'

'I know you had a busy afternoon of eyeing the ass of that tramp they've hired to run the squash courts!'

Charles sighed. That tramp did have a nice ass. If only he could go back to perving over it rather than dealing with this. 'Come on,' he said, annoyance in his voice. 'Let's go deal with it.'

'It's locked!' Charles barked as he yanked at the main doors to Silver Lake High.

'It can't be,' Cybil said, trying the doors herself. 'I spoke to the principal. He said he'd be here.'

Charles sighed. 'Well, no one's here.'

'You saw there were cars in the parking lot. Someone is here.' Cybil cupped her eyes, ducked, and bobbed against the windows in the doors to see if there were signs of life inside. She began to pound on the door. 'Hello! Principal Gordon!'

'No one is here, Cybil.'

Cybil continued to pound.

'Principal Gordon!'

Charles grabbed her right wrist and held it tight. 'Will you knock it off!'

Cybil snatched her hand back and glared at Charles like a cornered cat with its heckles up. 'I want to know where our daughter is! What's going on! What if she's turned out like her real mom? What if she's got too much of my sister Christi–'

'Don't mention that name,' Charles snapped.

Cybil stayed quiet and took a deep breath.

'Come on; let's go round the back. I know where the principal's office is.'

Principal Gordon was asleep at his desk, head slumped to one side with drool stringing to his lapel. In his dream, he wasn't a principal anymore. He was free of the shackles of high school, his mortgage, and his sexless marriage with his wife. He was at the ski lodge he'd vacationed at last winter, but no ball-busting wife was in sight this time. Another vacation with her refusing him sex on a nightly basis was about as appealing as a cheap circumcision. As he walked through the lodge's main hallway, a figure in nothing but tacky lingerie stood looking out over the snowy hills outside. It was Ginger McCarthy.

'Oh, Ginger,' he uttered in his sleep. 

Mr. Gordon had a thing about Ginger since he had to fire coach Conners because she'd sat on his face. The lucky bastard.

'Principal,' she purred. 'Fancy eating my red ants' nest?'

Ginger turned around.

Oh, god! The panties were crotchless!

A loud pounding interrupted the dream; Principal Gordon sat up fast with a snort.

'Principal Gordon!' a voice cried, and then more pounding came from his window.

'What in the?'

'The main doors are locked!' Charles and Cybil complained.

'That janitor …' Principal Gordon hissed.

Then, with no other way in the building, they climbed through the window, further destroying Principal Gordon's blinds. Charles and Cybil sat on the opposite side of the desk as Principal Gordon sat back in his chair, quickly wiping drool from his jacket.

'Where is she?' Cybil snapped.

'Calm down,' Charles said.

'You calm down! I want to know!'

'Please,' begged Principal Gordon, wishing he'd had five more minutes in the dream. 'Both of you calm down.'

Cybil and Charles clamped shut.

'I don't know where she is,' Principal Gordon said. ' I was hoping she would have turned up by now, or you would have heard something.'

'What is all this ax business?' Charles said.

Principal Gordon huffed, then swallowed. 'As I told your wife, it has come to our attention that something is … wrong with your daughter.'

Cybil and Charles threw a look at one another.

'It started today in the cafeteria. There was a fight, and Kelly intervened … with an ax …and broke up a fight between two boys.'

Cybil and Charles wriggled uncomfortably in their chairs.

'Then things started to unravel.'

'Unravel?' Cybil squinted and looked back from Principal Gordon to Charles.

'A video made by one of our students was brought to my attention by Miss. Peltzer, our guidance counselor. Today, out on the field during cheer practice, there was an accident with one of the girls as they formed a pyramid.'

Principal Gordon got up and moved over to the T.V. and VCR set up in the corner of the office. He took a remote control and pressed a button; the T.V. came to life.

'One of our students was filming when it happened.'

Principal Gordon's finger hovered over the play button on the VCR.

'This is a little … disturbing.' Principal Gordon pressed play.

The whole ordeal with Chrissie Chambers played out on screen. The pyramid toppled, Chrissie hitting the ground and her ankle snapping like a brittle twig, the blood bursting from the wound. Charles looked away; Cybil grimaced, transfixed. Gretchen's lens fell onto Kelly's demented face, grinning and gurning, saying unheard things through constantly gritted teeth.

'Oh my god,' Cybil said, putting her head into her palm.

Principal Gordon stopped the tape.

'I'm sorry you had to see that,' Principal Gordon said.

'What … was wrong with her?' Charles asked.

Principal Gordon shook his head. 'Is there any kind of trouble at home or problem Kelly is going through–'

'I know what it is,' Cybil said from behind her palm. 'Oh god. I know.'

She looked at Charles, defeated, the world's weight on her shoulders. She had seen that same awful grimace before.

'I think we need to tell you about Kelly's past,' Cybil said. 'I think we need to tell you about … my sister … her mother.'

No one in the principal's office noticed the figure spying by the door.

Chapter 17

Blood lubed up the janitor's limp body as Kelly dragged him back into his small office.

'Get a mop,' Christie said, nodding to the red trail leading out the door.

'Ew! Manual labor!' Kelly winced as she grabbed the grubby mop handle, making the smeared fluid disappear.

'Don't forget the keys to the kingdom, ding-dong,' Christie hissed, nodding back to the top of the stairs the janitor had fallen. Kelly quickly trotted back up, swiped the loop of keys from the floor, and slinked back into the janitor's office.

Canned laughter came from the T.V.; it caught Kelly's attention, and she swung around and glared at it. There was that cheap tart Kelly Bundy, trying to sneak some bozo in leather up to her bedroom while a live studio audience whooped and hollered. Kelly snorted and said, 'She's got great legs, a great face, and she's blonde. She's a bitch,' then slapped the T.V. off.

Turning to the ghostly apparition of her mother, Kelly asked, 'What'll I do now?'

'How in the world have you got by without me holding your hand?' Christie snapped. 'Upstairs for thinking, downstairs for dancing, dweeb breath. What do you think the keys are for? All your little teen sitcom chums are upstairs looking for your weepy ass. Keep them there. You have the keys. They're rats in a maze you've created. It's simple: separate, eliminate, and don't get caught. Create a crime that your phallic friend Freddie can be pinned for. Leave Danny as the lone savior apart from yourself. Maybe you can straighten him out with a little luck and survivor's guilt. He's been turned one way; you can turn him back the other.'

Kelly nodded vigorously. 'I like it, mama.' She was fired up, hot to trot. The thrill of spilling the janitor's blood had sent a streak of madness through her like rocket fuel. Kelly went to walk out the door when Christie grabbed the pigtail on the right side of her head. 'Ding-dong!' Forget something?'

'You gotta stop pulling my hair like that, mama,' Kelly said, rubbing her scalp.

'I will, dweeb breath, but only when that pink paste in your head starts being used for what it's put there for.'

'Huh?'

'Huh?' Christie mimicked. 'I think you're forgetting your long-handled insurance policy.' She grinned devilishly, turned, and nodded to the corner of the room. There, leaning against the wall, placed perfectly like a prop in a scene, was the ax she'd used in the cafeteria.

A grim grin pulled over Kelly's face.

Kelly stormed out into the hallway, ax in hand. She moved to the first floor and locked all the doors trapping Danny, Freddie, and the other cheerleaders above. Kelly looked through the wired security glass to one of the hallways on the first floor. 'Like rats in a maze …' she hissed.

Kelly skipped back down the stairs to the ground floor and heard a banging and clattering coming from the end of the hall. Her eye narrowed, and she stayed still and silent, listening. Someone exclaimed: 'The front doors are locked!'

That voice … she knew it.

'I'm sorry, Mrs. Dunning. It must be that janitor. Just climb through the window. No harm done. My blinds are already damaged.'

That was Mr. Gordon, the principal, and … Mrs. Dunning!

'Mom!'

'Yeah?' Christie's bloody ghost snapped from beside her.

'My other mom is here!'

'Other mom?'

'Yes, Cybil!'

'My stinking sister Cybil? Ding-do–'

Christie reached out to yank at Kelly, but Kelly jumped back and heard more voices. 'Listen!' Kelly yelped.

'Where is she?' Cybil snapped.

'Calm down,' Charles said.

'You calm down! I want to know!'

'Please,' begged Principal Gordon.

'They're both here!' Kelly hissed. 'Mom and d … Cybil and Charles!'

Christie's face wrinkled; she pulled her bloody fur coat close to her chest. 'Sneak and listen,' she growled.

Kelly took off quickly but quietly down the hallway with fast, soft footfalls, stopping at the open door to the principal's office. Christie was already at the opposite side of the doorway. She raised a bloody hand, pushed a finger to her lips, and hushed for silence as they snooped. 'Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh …'

Kelly arced her head closer to the door to listen.

'I think we need to tell you about Kelly's past,' Cybil said. 'She wasn't just arbitrarily adopted. We need to tell you about … my sister … her mother.'

'Adopted!' Kelly's eyes grew wide. 'That's why my last name is different to theirs!'

'Jesus Christ,' Christie moaned. 'How long have you lived in that house? I think the setting on your hair dryer has fried your mind.'

Cybil told the principal about that night in '85 in Beverly Hills, how Christie had chopped her father and his lover into itty-bitty pieces. Each of her words fitted another fragment of a memory Kelly never even knew she'd lost back into place.

'I did this for our own good,' the ghost of Christie whispered. 'Think about everything they aren't saying. Are we a laughing stock because my husband, your father, liked to give his patients a full oral exam? Because he got a little queer with the laughing gas? No! I spared us both the humiliation for the greater good. You're going to do the same, only better than me. We're gonna make sure, this time, you get what you want. This time, everything will be … perfect …'

'… Perfect …' Kelly hissed back.

'We sent Kelly to the best shrinks money could buy,' Cybil said. 'We got her the best psychological treatment to flatten out all memories of that awful day. But looking at that video …'

'We failed,' Charles said. 'I always had a gut instinct, deep down inside, maybe there something … kooky about Kelly.'

'Kooky … Not perfect,' Kelly hissed under her breath.

'Oh dear,' Mr. Gordon said. 'I think this is a much bigger problem than I thought. I think it would be better if she was removed from the school for the safety of the other students and Kelly herself.'

'Not perfect.' Kelly mouthed.

Neither Charles nor Cybil said anything.

'It's either that or I think expulsion may be in order,' Mr. Gordon said.

'Nottttt perfecttttttt.' Sweat beaded at Kelly's brow. How could she be separated from this school and her friends? Even if she did plan to end their lives, expulsion wasn't perfect!

Charles let out a sigh. 'I think we've tried our best with Kelly, but … maybe that wasn't good enough. Maybe she needed more than we offered. We need to send her back for more therapy. Cybil, I know you love that girl like your own, but we are way out of our league here. Look at her face in that video. I couldn't think of letting her sleep under our roof at night again.'

'Don't say it …' Kelly whispered.

'I think we need to send her away.'

No.

'There are schools and faculties equipped for this sort of thing.'

Cybil shook her head.

'I think your right,' Mr. Gordon said.

Traitor.

'Something is wrong with that girl, something we cannot deal with. It's all too much of a coincidence. The ax, the attack … her face on the video. Be serious for a moment, Cybil. You've noticed she's a little odd too.'

Cybil looked at her husband and nodded slightly.

'Let's just put her away, temporarily.'

Kelly shook her head, anger and fear filling her eyes.

'Get her tested, some treatments. Try to drag her back to reality rather than burying her brain in all those T.V. shows she obsesses over.'

Cybil nodded again.

'I think it's time to admit we might have failed, Cybil. Let's find her, get her out of this school, send her away – for her own good.'

Charles held out a hand for Cybil. With tearful eyes, Cybil replied. 'For her own good,' and then linked hands with her husband.

Sent away … tested … treatments …

'Freddie doesn't have to just kill the other students,' Christie said seriously, a gleam like a sharpened blade in her eyes. 'He could have killed … everyone.' Christie nodded down at the ax in Kelly's hands.

The vile grin that came over her when she'd seen Chrissie's snapped ankle returned; a gurgling growl rippled through her throat. 'Perrrrfeeecctttttt …'

Kelly slowly stepped from around the doorjamb and filled the entrance to the principal's office.

'Kelly!' Mr. Gordon exclaimed, his eyes growing as he watched her raise the ax overhead.

'Kelly!' both Cybil and Charles cried.

'Send me away …' Kelly growled. 'Not perfeccttttt …'

Kelly brought the ax down with all her might, splitting Cybil and Charles' linked hands with the heavy blade. There was a crunch of bone, a burst of blood; two piercing screams, and their link was broken forever as their fingers spilled on the floor in a pool of gore.

'Oh no …' was all Mr. Gordon could whimper as he reached for his phone, watching Cybil and Charles fall to the floor in screaming agony.

Kelly walked through their blood and ignored their cries. 'I think there's going to be a little cut in the faculty this year, Mr. G!' Kelly grinned, bringing up the bloody ax again. The live studio audience all tittered in Kelly's brain. 'And the first casualty is going to be Y-O-U spells you!'

'Kelly! Plea–'

Mr. G never finished his last sentence.

Mr. G had an ax buried into his face so hard that it blew his brains out of his ears.

Chapter 18

They had walked from the school's second to the fourth floor for twenty minutes and found nothing. Kelly was nowhere in sight.

'I could have sworn I heard her running upstairs,' Julie said.

'Well, she's not here,' Ally replied.

'Come on, I'm bushed,' Ginger moaned. 'We've done our bit to try and find her, but she's flown the coop.'

'Yeah,' Freddie said. 'She must have gone home.'

Danny walked to the nearest window in the hallway and looked outside. The sun was setting, and Kelly's convertible sat in the parking lot.

'She didn't take her car home if she did leave.' Danny said.

They all walked over and looked out.

'Why would she run off and leave her car here?' Ally asked.

'That's what you do when you're cuckoo,' Ginger smirked.

'Isn't that her parents' BMW parked next to it?' Julie said.

'Yeah? What are they doing here?'  Ally said.

'Probably the same thing we're doing, looking for Kelly,' Gretchen added.

Danny huffed and walked off; Freddie followed him. 'I know you're worried about her,' Freddie said, 'but do you think we could find her tomorrow and talk to her?'

'I'm just worried about her. 'I should have been more honest from the start.'

'It took a while for you to be honest with yourself.' Freddie smiled slightly. 'I know you don't want to hurt her feelings, but beating yourself up over this isn't help anyone. You've always said she wouldn't accept you weren't interested; it's not like anything ever happened between you … did it?'

'I've told you that before, Freddie. Nothing ever happened.'

Freddie nodded. 'I believe you.'

'It's just …' Danny stopped walking for a second. 'I know Ginger is one cold-hearted bitch.'

Freddie grinned and looked over his shoulder at the three girls behind.

'I don't know. I kind of like her.'

'You know what I mean. What Ginger thinks, Ginger says. She calls it how she sees it. I've spent some time with Kelly, and now and then, she can seem a little … off the wall.'

'More like chained to a wall in a rubber room,' Freddie snorted. 'You forget, I share a locker room with her. She's my team captain. Lately, that girl has been getting odder and odder. Someone needs to trap her head in a locker door and keep slamming it until something that looks like sense appears in her eyes. Come on, let's go home and deal with it tomorrow. I'm beat.'

'Jesus,' Danny grinned, 'now I know why you think Ginger's all right.'

'Hey!' Julie called ahead to the two boys; 'Let's just go home and see her in the morning.'

'Did you guys drive here? Can I bum a lift home? My feet hurt,' Ginger moaned.

Freddie nodded. 'Yeah, sure.'

'You're her brother from another mother,' Danny whispered as he walked back towards the girls.

They all walked down the stairs toward the ground floor. On each level, a door separated each floor.

'So, how was your first day documenting the cheer team,' Ginger asked Gretchen.

'Not what I imagined,' Gretchen sighed. 'I think my arms will fall off from carrying this camera all day.'

'Thanks for not filming any of that earlier,' Freddie said to Gretchen.

'How could I? I know most documentarians have the heart of Hannibal Lecter, but I couldn't just exploit this for a grade.'

'You might be the most broke-assed filmmaker with that philosophy, babe, but at least you have your morals.' Ginger said, slapping Gretchen on the back.

They stepped down to the door to the first floor; Gretchen went to push it open as she spoke. 'I might have my morals, but I don't know what –' Then rebound off the door. She looked confused and pushed it again. 'It's locked!'

'Oh Christ,' Ginger moaned. 'What in the blue hell is going on? Is this day just completely warped?'

'It can't be,' Ally said and tried it. Gretchen was right; it was locked.

'Great,' Freddie said. 'We'll have to go back to the other side of the school to the stairs there.'

They all moaned and groaned together as they walked the gloomy, lonely halls to the other side of the building.

'The janitor must have locked us in,' Julie said. 'It's the only explanation. He usually locks one door as he goes and checks for anyone still in the building.'

Eventually, they made it to the other door to the first floor. Danny moved forward and grabbed the handle hard. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes when the door didn't budge. 'Locked,' he said.

'It's that damn janitor!' Ginger cried. 'He's so drunk and stupid he locked us in!'

Julie shook her head. 'Maybe he's just locked both doors, and he's still in here?'

'What sense does that make?' Ginger said. 'We all know what he's like. If he ever goes missing, just put his picture on a wine bottle instead of a milk carton so all the other drunks can find him.'

Ally looked out the window again; any blue in the sky was turning a deathly black. 'It's getting late; we need to get out of here.'

'He's gotta be around here somewhere,' Freddie said. 'I've been in here late from practice, and he always comes and checks all the rooms.'

Danny nodded. 'He's here somewhere. It's either that or we're jumping out the window.'

'I think you're forgetting one of us isn't an athlete,' Gretchen said, pushing her glasses up her nose.

'I'm not risking my legs jumping out a window – no way!' Ally cried.

'Look, how about this,' Danny said. 'There are two sets of stairs on either side of the building. Let's just split up on either side and make our way up. When one of us finds him, we grab the others and get out of here.'

'That's a plan,' Julie said.

'I'll take Ginger and Gretchen,' Danny said. 'You take Julie and Ally.'

Ginger latched onto Freddie's arm. 'Aren't you going to protect me from all the things that hide in the school's dark corners?'

'No, Ginger. You can protect Danny.' He hooked his arm through hers. 'I think you have the balls for it.'

'I like to rock the cock, not have one swinging between my legs,' she winked.

Julie looked mortified at Ginger's words.

Danny held back a smile. 'Come on, let's find Johnson and get out of here.'

'He doesn’t need to find Johnson. He already found it,' Ginger said, grabbing Freddie's ass.

'Ginger, just quit it!' Freddie laughed.

'We'll meet up on the fourth floor, in the middle of the hallway,' Danny nodded at the group.

'Sure,' Freddie said.

Danny put his arms around Freddie and held him tight.

Ginger nudged Gretchen. 'Cute,' she said.

Gretchen grinned.

'See you soon,' Danny said, walking to the other side of the school with Ally and Julie.

'Come on, you guys,' Gretchen said, looking around at the long shadowy hallways. 'I don't like it in here.'

Not noticing behind them as they ascended the stairs to the third floor, Kelly stepped out from one of the classrooms she'd unlocked. A foul grin stayed fixed on her bloody face as she listened to them disappearing into the bowels of the building. They were doing exactly what she'd hoped, all separating. Making them easy pickings.

Christie appeared next to her daughter, a devious smirk on her face.

'You know what to do,' Christie said.

Kelly nodded. 'It's gonna be perfecctttt …' she croaked.

Chapter 19

Julie, Ally, and Freddie made their way to the third floor. All that was before them were more empty hallways and no sign of Mr. Johnson. Fatigue began to set in from climbing the stairs, and they each began to lag as they walked. The building was hot and stuffy; the air was thick and palpable. Julie eyed a water fountain near the end of the hall. 'I just need to rest for a second, guys,' she said. 'I'm pooped.' Julie began to fan herself and stopped by the water fountain. Freddie nodded at her. Inspiration suddenly hit him. 'Kelly's car is in the parking lot, and so are her parents,'' he mused. 'Let's see if they are still there. Let's see who else is still here.'

'Do you know what the janitor drives?' Ally asked. 'Maybe we could just wait by a window and shout to him when he leaves?'

'That's not a bad idea,' Freddie replied.

They left Julie and walked around the corner at the end of the corridor. They pushed against the window to the parking lot; only a small slither of light illuminated everything.

'They're both there,' Freddie said, nodding to Kelly and her parents' cars. He squinted and pushed his face to the glass with cupped hands. 'See that shitty old Nova down there?' Freddie said. 'That's the janitor's.'

'What about that other one?' Ally said, standing next to him and staring down through the oncoming night. 'Is that a Mercedes?'

'The Principal's,' Freddie said.

'Mr. Gordon?' Ally pondered. 'Why would he still be here?'

Julie leaned down to the water fountain and began to splash her face. Normally she'd be worried about destroying her makeup, but she didn't care under the circumstances. She sucked water from her hands, pursed her lips, and started to swallow from the small water spout. The water was good, and her body shuddered from its coldness. She looked down the deserted corridors in either direction, and a consuming, claustrophobic tightness gripped her. It was a feeling she hadn't felt for years. When she was a child, she had been locked in the garage at her friend Amanda's house by her shitty older brother. He knew she didn't like their disgusting garage; none of their family did. It was just a room to hoard all the stuff they should have thrown away. It was a cluttered mess of old junk, webbed together by thick spider silk. Amanda's brother pushed Julie inside, honked dumbly with laughter, and locked the door behind him. 'No! No!' she screamed, banging on the door. Then the tightness inside came. She looked at the gross garage's four walls; they seemed to move in, making the room smaller. Her breath caught in her chest; sweat started to bead on her brow. She looked at the webbing as thick as wedding veils; their eight-legged makers were emerging to see where the screaming was coming from. She'd passed out; Amanda's mom had found her later that day. Julie had never experienced that awful feeling of her environment shrinking again. She had almost forgotten about it. But now, it was back. She leaned down, splashed her face again, and tried to wash it away. Behind her, a rumbling sound came to a halt; something metallic started to glide open.

I know what that noise is!

How could she be so dumb to forget! How could any of them forget! The only person with a key to operate the service elevator was Mr. Johnson – the janit–

Julie spun round, a grin on her face that quickly dropped to confusion. Mr. Johnson wasn't in the elevator; Kelly was. And her face … her face … her face was as demented as when she'd seen it on the video earlier that day. Only this time … it was covered in blood.

'Kelly, wha–' was all Julie could gasp.

Kelly had been back to the janitor's office for some supplies for her plan.

She brought the hammer hard down on Julie's skull. The impact sounded like a tree branch snapping. The impact made her head jut sideways, and she went limp. Kelly caught her, dragged her back into the elevator, and pressed a button.

'Going down …' Kelly growled. 

The doors slowly slid shut.

Around the corner, Freddie and Ally heard the elevator drone away and instantly recognized the noise.

'Mr. Johnson!' Ally cried.

They both ran back around the corner. The hallway was empty. Julie had gone. Freddie pressed the elevator's call button; it didn't illuminate, only stayed dead and dull.

Ally sucked in air as she stared at the bottom of the elevator's doors. Even in the dim light, she understood what had spilled there.

Blood.

Chapter 20

'Wakey wakey! Eggs and Bakey!'

A voice cried out at Julie, but her mind was so groggy she couldn't answer.

'Come on, spoilsport! Come on! Here I am giving you a chance, and all you 'wanna do is lay around all day like a no good lousy bum!'

Was that Kelly? But why would she attack me?

Julie blinked her eyes open and, through their blurriness, thought she was back in Amanda's old garage all those years ago. All around her was darkness, dirt, and spider webbing. It wasn't just spider webbing; it was a latticework of steel, a cage. That old claustrophobic feeling wrapped her again; her anxiety quickly cleared any drowsiness. She started hyperventilating, quick rapid breaths that felt like a cold blade to her lungs.

Where am I? Why am I trapped here!

Julie tried to get up from the dusty floor she felt anchored to and collapsed under her weight. She squealed as a new pain greater than the one that made her head throb.

I can't stand! I can't stand!

Julie ran a hand down her aching ankles finding sticky blood. Then, her tips dipped into two gaping wounds. A stinging sensation went through her body like being strapped into an electric chair. She understood why she couldn't stand. Someone had cut her cords; her Achilles' tendons had been savagely severed.

Julie wailed in pain. Cried so hard the bars of spittle that attached her top lip to the bottom twanged like strummed strings. 'No! Noooooooooo!'

Then she heard cheering and recognized the voice immediately.

'Pain, pain, go away, and come on back another day!'

She recognized the voice.

'Kelly!' Julie cried, tears falling down her cheeks, 'Help me!'

Kelly continued to cheer. 'I won't do that, can't you see? You have something to do for meeeee!'

Julie looked around, looked through the bars that trapped her. The bars weren't bars at all. She could see through their gaps out into the school gymnasium. Julie understood where she was. Trapped underneath the bleachers in the school gym! How the hell had she ended up–

Kelly.

Blinking clarity into her eyes, Julie squinted as the brightness of the overhead lights burned into her foggy retina. Kelly was in the middle of the gym, twirling around with her Pom-poms, covered in blood. Her wide eyes and fixed grin made her look like a lunatic that had just skipped the asylum. Everything was like a bad dream. Kelly cheered out, 'For carving up your legs, I'm the one to blame – so let's have ourselves a little gameeeee!'

Then it dawned on Julie that all her bleeding heart sympathy for Kelly was for nothing. Ginger, no matter how harsh she'd been, was right. Kelly was a maniac.

'Kelly, pleaseeeeee!' Julie groaned.

'Well,' Kelly said, breaking the fourth wall, pretending to look into the invisible camera filming the show called her life. 'Even when she's in total agony, she's still polite.'

The live studio audience in Kelly's brain whooped up a storm.

'It has to be a bad dreammmm!' Julie cried.

Kelly stopped shaking her pom-poms and planted her hands on her hips. 'Snap-a-roonie! I had a crazy dream last night! I was swimming in an ocean of orange soda. Turns out it was just a Fanta-sea!'

The live studio audience went crazy in Kelly's mind.

Kelly cartwheeled over to the opposite end of the bleachers where Julie was trapped, spun in the air, and landed on her feet facing Julie.

'Kelly … what are you doing,' Julie moaned.

Kelly lowered herself to sit cross-legged and stared down at Julie with dreamy eyes.

'Giving you the one thing I won't give anyone else – a chance.'

'W-what do you mean?'

'I'm going against my better judgment – against my mom's advice.' Kelly looked up, and behind her, as if someone was standing there, Julie couldn't see. 'There are people in this school who are against me, against what is dag-nam right! I'm the head cheerleader! I should be with the head of the football team! Everyone should know that!'

'But Kelly,' Julie sobbed, her ankles glowing white hot with pain. 'That's not reality; Danny wants to be with Freddie; you can't change that!'

'Don't you tell me what reality is! I watch T.V.!' Kelly snapped. 'Reality needs a rewrite, and I'm the gal with the eraser!'

'But–'

'There are no buts; the only but you need to worry about is getting your butt in gear!'

'What do you mean!' Julie cried.

'You've always liked me, right?' Kelly asked.

'Yes!' Julie blurted.

'Not in some pie-eater way, right?'

'What?'

'Not in some pass me a spoon. I want to eat her out way, right?'

Julie started to cry.

'Oh, never mind,' Kelly said with a flap of her hand. 'I always liked you the best; that's why I want to give you a chance. Maybe if you get out of here, I can mildly brain damage you so you won't tell?' Kelly reached under her cheer jersey, pulled out the bloody hammer she pummeled Julie with, and studied it. 'I can turn you into a spaced-out cabbage so I can push you around in a wheelchair. Hot-Wheels-ago-go!' Kelly exclaimed. 'Just like in that episode of Saved by the Bell, Teen Line! Zack befriended that chick Melissa; she was in a wheelchair too! We could be the same! Only you would be more drooly … and retarded …' Kelly pondered this, looking at the strands of hair on the hammer's bloody end. 'Well, it's that or slam-ola! You get turned into paste!'

'What do you mean?' Julie moaned.

'If you're a real Silver Lake Lakers cheerleader, you need determination! Courageousness! Spunk! That's why I'm going to cheer you on; try and put a little pep in your step while we play the game.'

'What game!' Julie cried.

Kelly jumped to her feet; her sneakers squeaked on the polished wooden floors. 'Tonight on K.T.V. – filmed in Kelly-vision! – We have the first in a one-time single series episode of Beat the Bleachers! If you make it out the other side in time, you win the grand prize of–' Kelly spun the hammer in the air like a baton and grabbed it by its handle. 'A one-way ticket to low-budget lobotomy-ville!'

Kelly skipped back to the wall behind her and hovered a finger over a button on the control panel.

'Oh no!' Julie gasped. She understood what the game was.

Kelly grinned. 'And your time starts … NOW!'

Kelly pressed the button.

Suddenly, the sound of cogs and mechanics echoed out under the bleachers. The small space was becoming smaller, the latticework folding in on itself.

'Don'ttttt!' Julie yelled. Trying to drag her dead legs as fast as she could as the space she was trapped in shrunk around her. The metallic clunking continued; the latticework moved in automatically to crush her. Quickly, hand over hand, arm over arm, Julie pulled herself along, sweat pouring. The bleachers were only three sections deep, closing one at a time. As she dragged her limp legs from the first section, it clamped shut with a loud clang behind her. Tears mixed with Julie's sweat and dripped down her face. She pushed herself harder. If she could just make it to the other end, she would be face to face with Kelly; she could try and fight her. Could try and stop her from raining down any more blows on her head with the bloody hammer. She had to do was move! Go faster! She fought off all the fear of the claustrophobic space she was a prisoner in, all the memories of Amanda's garage that haunted her head. 'I want to live!' Julie cried, 'I want to live!'

'Come on, Julie, you can do it! Work a little harder, and you can pull through it!' Kelly cheered at the other end.

Fuck you, Kelly, Julie thought. Fuck yo–

'Agggggghhhhhhh!' The second set of bleachers had folded in. Julie wasn't fast enough. The latticework had folded around her limp right leg and snapped the bone at the ankle. Gritting her teeth, ignoring the blistering pain, Julie reached behind and grabbed her right leg, and yanked it free with no regard for pain. A snapping, squelching sound echoed, and her gory bleeding leg was free. With time lost, she looked around; everything was closing in on her. There was no time left to lose. Quickly, she pressed on ahead, moving as fast as her broken, agony-infected body would go. She left a bloody smear behind her as she went. The exit of the bleachers, the end where Kelly stood cheering – 'Go! Go! Go!' was becoming smaller and smaller. Roaring with rage, Julie tried to move faster. She had to beat it! She had to beat it! She was almost out of the dark, disgusting space behind the bleachers. She could do it! She could do it!'

Kelly began to cheer as Julie got her right hand out from beneath the bleachers. Got her head out as its innards folded in.

Kelly began to cheer. 'And youuuuu are a winnnn–'

Then the bleachers slipped a cog and snapped shut like a mousetrap on Julie's exposed neck.

A disgusting gasping sound pushed up her gullet. With the force of the mechanical monster gripping her, Julie's beautiful features, like the British chick from Weird Science, were ruined forever. Her tongue pushed out of her strained lips; snot and brain squirted from her nose; her eyeballs popped from her sockets on stalks.

Kelly caught her victory cheer as it passed her lips and clamped her mouth shut. After a second of staring at the disgusting visage that was once her friend, she blurted. 'Spicy hot road kill! That girl is toast!'

The live studio in Kelly's mind tittered with approval.

'That two-bit tramp would have told anyway,' Christie's bloody ghost said. 'Why'd you want her as a retarded friend? Pushing her around all day would be like having an anchor with wheels attached to you.'

'That's not perfect, mamma,' Kelly frowned, watching as Julie's last spurts of life twitched from her body.

'Shut up,' Christie said. 'We've got some more Tootsie Pops to deal with.'

Chapter 21

'Why would she just leave?' Freddie said as the elevator rumbled away. 'Why wouldn't she just call out to us?'

'L-Look,' Ally muttered, pointing to the dark pool by the service elevator's doors.

Freddie tensed up; his mouth fell open slightly. Freddie and Ally's eyes met, then returned to the fluid before them. Freddie bent down, held out two fingers, and ran them through the stain. He turned his fingers over; a coppery smell entered his nostrils as he studied the red stain. He swallowed and said the word he'd hoped the stain wouldn't be: 'Blood.'

Ally closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 'What do you think happened?'

'The only person who can operate that thing is the janitor,' Freddie said with a quiver.

'But why would he take her?'

Inspiration hit Freddie like a truck. 'Come on!' he blurted. 'It's going down, and so are we!'

Freddie grabbed Ally's wrist, dragged her back to the stairwell, and ran down.

'We should get the others!' she gasped.

'There's no time! We need to see what the hell is going on with Julie.'

They pounded down the stairs and reached the third and second floors. They both ran down the darkened hallway to where the elevator shaft was. Freddie was hoping they would somehow be quick enough to make it to the second-floor entrance to the elevator and press the button to make it stop there. He knew the only way to operate the elevator from outside was by pressing the buttons while Mr. Johnson was inside with his key turned into the security lock. Nearly every kid in the school had played that prank, slapping the buttons, so the elevator stopped and opened when Mr. Johnson was trying to get somewhere on another floor. Skidding on the polished floor next to the elevator, Freddie punched the buttons on the control panel, but it was useless; the elevator had gone past this floor and was planted on the ground floor, already turned off.

'Damn it!' Freddie cried.

'Where is she?' Ally trembled.

'Don't worry, okay.' Freddie said, hugging Ally. 'We're going to figure out what the heck is going on, I promise.'

Below they could hear muffled voices on the first floor. Someone was down there.

'Quiet!' Freddie said, holding a finger to his lips to keep Ally quiet. Moonlight was the only light source to penetrate the dimly lit halls now. Ally's eyes grew with terror in its lunar glow. More muffled voices came from below.

'Let's go back to the locked door on the stairwell,' Freddie said.

They both ran back to the door that separated them from the freedom of the first floor. They pressed their ears to the thick security glass as quietly as possible and listened. They held their trembling breath and concentrated. There was silence, just the empty sound of their slight movements in the hollow hallways. Then they heard it, far away, and muffled a blood-curdling scream. Ally gasped. 'Did you hear tha–'

'Shhhhhhh!' Freddie hushed her and pressed his ear close to the door.

Again they listened in petrifying silence, and distantly they could hear more screaming.

Tears formed in Ally's eyes; Freddie swallowed hard, trying not to shake or cry. Then there was one final big scream. Then there was a sickening crunch. Then there was no more screaming, just graveyard silence.

'Was that her?' Ally said. 'Was that Julie?'

Freddie said nothing, only wiped away the tears he was trying to suppress.

'What happened to her?' Ally snuffled. Snot bunged her nose up; her mouth was dry, and talking was awkward.

Out of the corner of Freddie's eye, a figure stood staring at them, hidden in shadow at the bottom of the stairs beyond the door. Quickly, it moved off into a pool of darkness, concealing itself.

Freddie pressed his face against the security glass and stared into the tenebrous stairwell below.

'What!' Ally cried. 'What!'

'I thought I saw …'

'What!' she yelped.

'We need to find Danny and the others,' Freddie said. 'We need to tell them what–'

The creak of an opening door whined out. They both turned to look in the direction it came from. The door to the stairwell at the opposite end of the corridor opened, and a female figure, backlit by the moon's eerie glow, staggered out into the corridor.

'It's Julie!' Ally cried, taking off towards her.

'Wait!' Freddie said, trying to keep up with her.

'Julie!' Ally cried, 'Julie! Julie! What happened? We heard screaming!'

The figure stumbled, leaned against the wall of the hallway, and with its head down, slowly, it pulled itself forward in jarring jerking motions, barely able to stand on its own.

'What did he do to you, Julie? It was the filthy janitor, wasn't it!'

Ally ran faster than she ever had, a mix of fear and relief that Julie was still alive after all that petrified screaming they'd just heard. Ally was nearly on her now; Freddie was just behind.

'Julie!' Ally shouted.

The figure snapped up, its grim, grinning visage half illuminated by the eerie moon glow. 'Not quite!'

'Kelly!' Ally cried, relief to see another face she recognized.

Kelly had something hidden in her hand and hurled it at Ally's face. There was a slapping splash, then a sizzle. Having the keys to the whole school meant Kelly had the run of the place and everything in it. Boy, was she glad she'd found where Mr. Madison, the science teacher kept his acid. Ally tried to scream out as soon as the evil liquid met its target. She reached for her liquidizing face, only to have her fingers begin to melt too. Ally fell to her knees, a trembling, melting mess. The palpable stench of disintegrating flesh instantly filled the hallway.

'Peanut brittle bars!' Kelly exclaimed. 'I said that filthy rap music would melt your brain, but I didn't think it would make a dessert out of your face!'

The live T.V. audience in Kelly's brain began to laugh.

Ally's dripping lips fused; her eyeballs gooped to ocular liquid and burst over her cheeks like two grapes in the microwave. She fell forward, completely devastated by the devouring fluid, her visage splattered against the hallway's polished floor like a meat pizza thrown face down.

Freddie finally caught up to where Ally was down, his eyes wide in disbelief.

'Kell-' was all he could say before Kelly smashed the empty acid jar over his head. Freddie hit the ground reeling with the bloody blow.

'And now I'm 'gonna teach you the lesson of a lifetime, you filthy heartbreaker!' Kelly cried, staring down at Freddie.

Christie's ghost nodded in approval next to her daughter. 'Not bad, dork breath. Now, let's set this truck in motion.'

Chapter 22

Freddie's groggy eyes flicked open.

Where am I?

It was cold, dark, and grim. Rusted pipework webbed above and around him; excess steam lingered like lost spirits.

Clambering to his feet, looking left and right, slowly, he understood.

The school boiler room. How'd I get here?

He raised a hand to his head and touched his face. Freddie let out a pained cry. Thick bloody slices were grooved into his skin from where … He had to think hard about the answer to his own question. He remembered hearing Julie's screams and Ally running down the hallway. Then things became vague and murky. The coppery taste of blood was in his mouth; with it, tiny smashed shards moved around inside his lips. Freddie spat on the floor; it was a red foamy mess. Inside it, the things he thought were broken teeth were broken glass. Then his mind clicked in gear. He could remember who smashed him in the face with a jar.

Kelly.

He gritted his teeth and held his throbbing head.

'That girl,' he uttered.

A voice called for him, low and agonized.

'Freddie … help me! '

He looked left and right, clambering to his feet to see if he could find its owner. Staggering through the metallic maze of pipes around him, eventually, they began to thin out. He stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the voice again.

''Freddie … please! I'm over here … I need your help!'

Who was that? Julie? Ally? He squinted through the hazy mist from the leaking steam pipes. Near the old boiler, Ally lay face down to his left, fifteen feet away.

'Help me, Freddie!' she muttered. 'Please come over here and help me!'

'Oh god!' he gasped, wiping blood from his eyes. 'Ally!'

He clambered over the last of the pipework, ignoring the boiling hot pipes that made him flinch. He had to get to Ally – had to help her! She wasn't moving, but somehow she could call out for help.

'I'm coming!' he cried. He fell, picked himself up, and kept going. He wiped the sweat from his eyes. It was so hot. Who the hell had lit the boiler? Eventually, he got to where she lay still and lifeless.

'Ally!' he cried, grabbing her shoulder and turning her over. Immediately, all ideas of heroics shattered like a dropped vase when he looked into her putrid visage. He remembered what happened before he was smashed in the face now: Ally running off, Ally coming to a stop, Ally getting a face full of acid from Kelly. Pure white skull protruded through Ally's once porcelain complexion, bloody teeth always grinning where lips had disintegrated away. Empty, burnt-out sockets stared blankly at Freddie. Her entire face was a peeled, raw lump of fused, melted flesh, her skull grinning out wearing a wig of fried hair. Under her dissolved head was an old tape recorder covered in blood and gore. Its play button was pressed down, and a girl's voice cried through the hiss coming from the speaker: 'Freddie, quickly! You gotta save me!'

Freddie frowned and gritted his teeth.

It was Kelly's voice.

He stopped the tape.

Then Kelly's real voice came from beside the boiler.

'Gross-o-rama! There's no saving her! All we need to add is a little cheese, and we've got one Ally pizza to go!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's mind all laughed.

'Why'd you kill her!' Freddie screamed.

Kelly stepped forward slightly, her hidden silhouette gaining definition.

'Hey, bub! I didn't kill anyone! Heads up!' Kelly cried and tossed something to Freddie. On instinct, he grabbed it. The huge butcher's knife from the canteen was covered in blood and slipped through his fingers. Fumbling, he caught its grip and brought it over his head to go for Kelly. 

Bright flashes came from where Kelly stood, blinding Freddie. He brought up his other hand to shield himself from the blasts of white light, but where his weary eyes had adjusted to the boiler room's gloom, he was instantly blinded.

'What the hell are you doing!' Freddie yelled.

'Gaining evidence! Kelly cried. 'I can see the Unsolved Mysteries segment now, can hear Robert Stack's voice ask: 'Why did Freddie Hernández kill the Silver Lake Lakers High cheerleading team?' And the answer will be? Eggggghhhhhhhhh!' – Kelly made a sound like a game show buzzer – 'No one knows! And the big secret – you were blowing my boyfriend's baloney – that’s the real unsolved mystery that no one is ever 'gonna guess!' 

Kelly stopped flashing the Polaroid at Freddie, grabbed the photos she'd caught of Freddie brandishing a knife over Ally's ruined body, and stuck them in the ass of her panties. 'Ain't no one fishing in there for 'em, especially you!'

Freddie went for Kelly with the knife held high. 'You demented bitc–' He stopped dead as Kelly stepped into the glow of the boiler's flames.

'Hold up there, partner!' Kelly grinned. 'You don't want me shooting you with this thing!' She didn't have the camera in her hands anymore; she had a gun.

'Ironic, isn't it? How that hippy-dippy, social studies dork, is always talking about peace and light and understanding his brother man, and he packs a .45 in his desk drawer. Who can blame him? With all these kids listening to black music, that hipperty-hop where everyone wants to blow each other's brains out. That stuff will put you on the morgue slab faster than A.C Slater at a track meet. Look what good it did, Ally. I took her to listen to that nice Canadian rock music; now her head is one step away from a Pizza Hut home delivery.'

Rage bubbled beneath Freddie's skin, his lips curled like a rabid dog on a leash.

'Frustrating, ain't it!' Kelly said. 'But I felt worse in that gym when you publicly stole my boyfriend.'

'I didn't steal anyone, Kelly. Danny wasn't your boyfr–'

'Liar liar, pants on fire!' Kelly cried, putting her free hand to her head. 'I don't want to hear how you seduced him with your tight end off the field! There is a way things should be in life: the sun rises in the morning; the moon comes out at night; Zack and Kelly are a match made in heaven, and head cheerleaders date the head of the football team! That’s the way things are supposed to be! That's normal!'

'Normal, huh?' Freddie grinned. 'What if the head of the football team is gay!'

'If he's gay, it's because you turned him that way, you he-devil!'

Freddie began to laugh.

'It's not how it's supposed to be!' Foam bubbled at the sides of Kelly's mouth. 'It's not how the screenplay of life goes! I know what reality is! And Zack Morris isn't a fudge packer!'

Freddie began to laugh.

'I'm a '90s girl! I'm P.C.! I'm an all-American head cheerleader! I know I'm rigghttttt! You are nottt perrfeccttttttt! It's why that flag flies outside this school every day – the good old stars and stripes – it's about dignity, pureness, and doing things the way they are supposed to be done! Perfectlllyyyyy!'

In Kelly's mind, her mom's ghost appeared next to her. She pulled her right-hand pigtail and said, 'Ding-dong! We're wasting time! Get on with the plan!'

In Freddie's eyes, Kelly reached up, pulled her own pigtail, and said in a raspy voice that wasn't hers, 'Ding-dong! We're wasting time! Get on with the plan!'

'You're nuts,' Freddie whispered. 'Fruit basket, loony bin, nuts.'

Kelly only grinned.

'Could be worse; I could be the Silver Lake Lakers Cheerleader killer. The gay boy who went berserk because he couldn't cornhole a football hunk.'

Freddie gripped the knife tighter.

'Drop it!' Kelly said, squeezing the .45's trigger.

Freddie dropped the knife to the floor. Kelly reached behind her back, pulled out a pair of handcuffs from under the band of her cheer skirt, and threw them at Freddie's feet. 'Found 'em hidden in the drawer of Miss. Williams, the French teacher,' Kelly said. 'She had them stashed with a skimpy little number. She must be one of those kink whores. Well, she does speak French. Pick 'em up and put 'em on.' Kelly growled. Reluctantly, he did what he was told. 'One cuff on your right wrist,' Kelly said, 'the other … on that fat pipe over there.' Kelly pointed to an overhead pipe to one side of the boiler room. 'Now,' she demanded. Freddie did as he was told and cuffed himself to the pipe.

'Uncomfortable?' she asked.

'Yes,' he replied.

'Good.'

'Why don't you shoot me and get it over with.'

'Because I need to put everything in place; everything has to be perfect. This is your death nest, you filthy felon! The place you bought all the girls' bodies before I stopped you!' Inspiration hit Kelly. 'BK Whoppers!' she cried. 'I forgot to tell you who else is here!' Kelly skipped to the steamy room's other side and dragged something to where Freddie was bound. Quickly he understood what it was.

'Jesus!' he cried.

Kelly flopped Julie's crushed body before him, her eyes dangling on stalks and tongue hanging out.

'I always thought she was a little flat-footed on the field, but this is ridiculous!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's mind all laughed.

'Another victim of unrestrained gay love. Ain't it a pity.' Kelly shook her head.

'You're not going to blame me for all this crap,' Freddie said.

'Oh, I will.' Kelly grinned.

Freddie shuddered.

'You thought of everything, right?' Freddie said, tears in his eyes.

'I think with my head,' Kelly said; she pulled her right-hand pigtail and said 'Ding-dong!' and laughed. 'Not just that little head hanging between my legs, you filthy boyfriend banger!'

Freddie wept.

'Gotta go now; you're all tied up!' Kelly exclaimed. 'I've got a cheerleader with a big mouth – probably with a bigger hole downstairs, and our snooping little wanna-be filmmaker to shut up. Then it'll be the final act when I stop the cheerleader killer and walk into the sunset with the school hunk. You turned him one way; I'll turn him the other after this! Just like a key in a lock, he'll remember what it's like to want a woman again!' Kelly took a thick roll of tape, tore a section off, and slapped it over Freddie's mouth. He flinched at her touch. Kelly breezed to the door, jumped on the spot, and said, 'See you on America's Most Wanted, loser!' and skipped out of the room.

Chapter 23

'Where in the blue hell are those assholes!' Ginger moaned.

Ginger and Gretchen were sitting on the final few stairs that lead to the fourth floor; Danny was sitting a few steps below them. They were exhausted from spending the last hour searching for Freddie, Julie, and Ally. They had traveled around every floor of the school, and no sign could be found of the others.

'Surely they just wouldn't have left us? If they'd have found Mr. Johnson, they could have come to find us?' Gretchen said. The video camera she'd bought was getting heavy and cumbersome.

'They would have come back for us,' Danny said worriedly. 'There was no way they would have just gone.' He bit his nails and pushed his hair from his eyes. Worry painted a pale mask over his face. He checked his watch. It had been over an hour since they'd gone in opposite directions around the school. The time was pushing nine o'clock. 'Something's happened to them. I know it.'

'Bub, you don't know, donkey dick,' Ginger blurted. 'You know as much as we know, and that's less than nothing. They've just gone kaput! For all we know, they've found crackpot Kelly and are trying to stop her from trying to drown herself in a toilet bowl.'

'Never let anyone say you're not all heart, Ginger,' Gretchen said with a smile.

'Hey, the color of love is the same color as my hair, right?' Ginger said, pointing to her do. 'All heart comes natural, babe.'

Danny turned and looked seriously at the two girls. 'What if Kelly's also missing? What if all four of them have just up and disappeared.'

Ginger and Gretchen said nothing.

'Why would they go missing?' Gretchen said.

'Yeah, why'd you think someone would snatch them?' Ginger added.

Danny shook his head, unable to answer the question. 'Something's happened,' he said, 'and I don't know what.'

A noise interrupted the silent soundtrack. Somewhere, not so far away, a car was approaching the school.

Jake Mcdonald sat outside the school in his 4X4 Suzuki soft-top with Bobby Buchanan, Trevor Bentley, and Richie Hewett in the passenger seats. When Jake had his ass handed to him in the cafeteria, his football goon friends had picked him up and made a break for it out of school to the bleachers on the football field. Jake had denied pissing his pants. 'Some fuckers Coke exploded over me when I was tossed over a table!' he'd growled. All his friends knew it was a lie; all his friends went along with it. They'd all returned to Jake's pad while he'd showered and cleaned up his cuts and bruises. Then they all started hitting his old man's liquor cabinet.

They all speculated why Danny stood up for Freddie.

'You don't think?' Bobby said with an evil glare in his eyes.

'That they are a pair of queers?' Trevor said.

'Danny used to be all right, but now … who knows,' said Richie.

'Fags,' was all Jake could say, shaking his head. 'Can you fucking believe it.'

'So what are we gonna do?' Bobby said, gulping a bottle of Jim Beam. 'You know, to get even.'

'Those freaks are meeting in the gym. So we get there first and make them pay …' Jake took an aluminum baseball bat from the hall closet and inspected it with a grin.

Jake and the football goons all passed out, bombed, and woke up at five o'clock.

'Shit!' Jake said, waking the others and dragging them to the Suzuki. 'We've gotta go pound on some sissy boys.'

'And pound some cheerleaders!' Richie howled.

They'd driven past the school; it was as dead as a doornail outside.

'Fuck!' Jake seethed.

'Hang on,' Richie said, climbing out the back of the 4X4 and running to the school doors. 'Locked!' he called back.

Jake gripped the steering wheel tight and hissed. 'We're too fucking late!'

They drove to Danny's house – he wasn't there.

They drove to Freddie's house – he wasn't there.

They drove to Ginger, Ally, and Julie's house – none of the girls were home. Their parents responded similarly: 'We don't know where they are?'

As they went to Kelly's house, no one answered. That was when Trevor clicked his fingers. 'Doesn't Kelly's parents drive that Champaign-colored BMW?'

'Yeah,' Jake said. 'Why?'

'I swear that thing was parked at the school, next to Kelly's car in the parking lot.'

'Kelly's car was at the school, and you didn't tell us?' Jake grunted.

'Yeah, a bunch of cars were still in the parking lot – Freddie's, Danny's,' Trevor pondered.

Jake shook his head. He knew Trevor's mind was roid rotted, but he never knew how much of a smooth brain he really was.

They'd driven back to Silver Lake High, and as Trevor said, Kelly's parents' BMW was there, right next to Kelly's V.W..

'Numbskull,' Jake snapped at Trevor.

They looked around the car lot. Trevor was right. Only a few other vehicles remained: Kelly's, her parents, the janitor's, the principal's, and Danny's and Freddie's cars.

'They're all in there!' Jake exclaimed.

They'd walked all around the outside of the building: it was still locked with no signs of life.

'Where in the hell are they?' Jake grunted.

'We don't want them to know we're here,' Bobby said. 'Leave your car parked outside the school grounds; we'll keep watch; as soon as we see any of them – bam! We get some answers.'

The night closed in, and the four teenagers grew restless in the 4X4. It was Richie that heard the first scream.

'What the hell was that!'

'What?' Bobby cried, almost asleep.

'The scream!'

'Scream,' Jake scoffed. 'You sound stupider than Trevor.'

Nothing else was said. Then a few minutes later, Trevor piped in. He stirred in his seat and stared at the school with fright. 'Y-yeah! I heard it too! Another scream!'

'You guys are nuts!' Jake barked. 'All that free booze is making your minds weak.'

Moments later, Bobby and Jake's heads snapped to the school as another eerie scream traveled in the night breeze toward them.

'I heard it that time!' Bobby exclaimed.

'Me too,' Jake said, startled. 'What the fuck is going on in there!'

'Some kind of orgy or something!' Trevor chuckled.

'Some kind of queer, incest orgy with her parents and the principal in there!' Richie said.

'Yeah, with old Mr. Johnson there to fluff anything that's gone limp!'

They all laughed, apart from Jake.

'Something is going on in there!' He growled. 'Time to crash the party!'

Jake pulled the transmission into drive and peeled up towards the school.

Kelly was creeping through the hallways. She needed to find a way to separate the two girls from Danny. Those do-do heads needed to die! Once they were out of the way, she could pin it all on Freddie and begin straightening out Danny. She'd do anything to make him perfect again. She'd be a good girl, a bad girl … A dirty girl. Her motto for the cheer squad had always been 'Take one for the team!' She'd take one for the team if it meant getting him back. Even at first, if he wasn't interested in her foo-foo, she'd let him have fun with her ring-ding. Let him play in the trunk until he could pop the hood again. The front – the rear. What was a few inches difference for the high school hunk? But how was she going to get those three apart?

'Come on, think about it, dork breath!' Christie's ghost said as it appeared next to her.

'I don't know what to do, mama?'

'You know what to do; you just need to figure out how to do it,' Christie's bloody ghost said. Just as the words had left her spectral lips, a voice bellowed from outside.

'I know you fucks are in there!'

It was Jake McDonald!

'Not perfecctttttt!' Kelly growled.

A ghoulish grin grew on Christie's face. 'Think about it, oh, great dimbo from my loins!'

Kelly did. Her own ghoulish grin grew in place.

'That's perfect,' she groaned.

Chapter 24

Gretchen was the first to jump up and look out the window as they heard the shouting. 'Oh no. It's Jake McDonald and the rest of his droogs.'

'Great!' Ginger grinned. 'Tell them to get us out of here!'

Danny grabbed her wrist and stopped her from moving to the window.

'Did you just forget what happened in the cafeteria today?' Danny asked, holding a hand up to his bruised face.

'You can't look a gift horse in the mouth,' Ginger moaned. 'Let Jake get us out of here, get help, find that old drunk Mr. Johnson, then nail him!'

'What if Jake is the reason we're locked in here?' Gretchen suggested.

Danny held an icy gaze on Ginger. 'What if he's the reason everyone has disappeared?'

A glitch appeared in Ginger's normally tough demeanor. She shook her head slightly as the reality of Danny's words unpacked in her mind. 'What would he have done … where would he hav–'

'I don't know,' Danny said.

'Guys, what are we going to do?' Gretchen asked.

Danny let go of Ginger's wrist. 'I'm going to talk to him.'

Danny moved to the window and moved Gretchen aside.

Ginger grabbed her, stood Gretchen next to her then whispered in her ear. 'Get this on tape – just in case.'

Gretchen grabbed the camera, swung it on her shoulder, popped the lens cap, and hit record.

'Why am I recording this?' Gretchen asked.

'What if he admits to–' Ginger drew a line with her finger across her throat and stuck her tongue out.

'Oh, god …' Gretchen moaned and hit record, hid in the corner of a window six feet away, and filmed the interaction.

Danny banged on the window, catching Jake's attention. Jake pointed up; a leering grin appeared on his face. Bobby Buchanan, Trevor Bentley, and Richie Hewett shouted up and goaded Danny. Their cries were muffled behind the glass. Danny checked around the window frame. 'No damn handles!' he exclaimed.

'Stops the risk of teen suicide,' Gretchen shrugged.

'Yeah, and the air-con pays for the power company's Christmas vacation,' Ginger added.

Danny looked around, his eyes fixed on the fire extinguisher at the end of the hall. He strode towards it, grabbed it, marched back, and used it to smash through the window. Gretchen and Ginger jumped as a shower of glass fell to the ground. The blast of the cold night air was refreshing. Danny tossed the extinguisher behind him with a clang.

'Jake!' Danny called down. 'Why the hell did you lock us in here?'

Dumb laughs came from the group below.

'Locked you in?' Jake laughed. 'Why'd you lock us out, Danny? What the hell is up with you? Sticking up for that queer-assed male cheerleader,' – Jake used male cheerleader like a slur – 'then locking yourself in there with everyone? What is this, an orgy or something? We can't get any of the fun?'

'Fun?' Bobby laughed. 'We got a theory about you, Shaffer. We think you've been playing butt pirates with Freddie the faggot.'

'Say it ain't so, Danny boy?' Richie shouted up.

'Tell us you ain't no queer,' Trevor grinned.

Danny's eyes slanted, but no words passed his lips.

'You're fucking kidding me!' Jake laughed. 'I thought these fucks had sniffed too much glue when they came up with you’re a little gay around the gills. I couldn't believe it! But the spic male cheerleader! You couldn't think of anything else to fuck?'

'Hey! Fuck you!' Danny roared.

'Now you're showing signs of taste if you want to fuck me, Danny boy,' Jake said calmly. His goons laughed at this. 'Course, if you are that much of a lame brain, and you'd rather take a shot in the mouth rather than mount that crack-pop Kelly Kennedy, then you is all fucked up in a way that goes beyond words.'

Danny gritted his teeth, then yelled. 'Where the hell is she?'

Not usually the sharpest spoon in the draw, Jake had a moment of clear-headedness. Kelly's V.W. parked in the parking lot … her parents' car …  Danny yelled, 'Why the hell did you lock us in here?' … Something was up. The cogs in Jake's mind clicked, and a plan appeared behind his eyes. Danny is trapped up there … 'Lock us in here' …

'Who you got up there with you, Shaffer?' Jake called.

Danny said nothing.

'Who you got up there.' Jake said again.

Ginger ran to the window and yelled back down. 'Me and Gretchen Estevez. Now stop the testosterone match and get us out!'

'Gretchen Estevez and Ginger McCarthy!' Jake cried. 'Maybe I got it all wrong, Shaffer. Maybe you're not a flaming fag.'

'Hey, fuck you, Jake!' Gretchen said, coming out from behind the camera to yell down.

'Taking the rough with the smooth with those two, Danny boy,' Richie said.

'A bow-wow like Gretchen and a red-headed whore who's been round the block more times than a second-hand car,' Bobby laughed.

'With the company you're keeping, anyone would think you're straight!' Trevor yelled.

'Unless you're laying back and thinking of Freddie!' Jake yelled.

The goons all laughed.

'Where are they, you bastards!' Danny yelled. 'Where the hell are they!'

Jake considered this. They. Something was going on here he couldn't quite grasp, but he understood he could use it.

'We got them,' Jake yelled up. 'We got all of them.'

'What?' Richie said.

Bobby, Trevor, and Richie all looked confused.

'Go along with it,' Jake hissed under his breath.

'Yeah!' Bobby yelled up.

'Oh my god,' Gretchen gasped.

'Where are they, you fuckers!' Ginger cried.

'Oh, we got them – yeah,' Jake called up and nodded. He turned to the three boys and uttered, 'I'll keep these square heads talking. Break into that school and ambush them. Then I'll come in, and we can have some fun.'

Bobby, Trevor, and Richie all gave each other sly looks. 'We're gonna go get 'em!' Bobby shouted up to Danny and the two girls and then took off to the front of the school with Trevor and Richie.

'Keep your pants on, Shaffer; we'll get your little friends. Well, that is if you can keep your pants on in the presence of a man like me.'

They all began to argue, Danny and the two girls shouting down as Jake shouted up.

Kelly stood hidden in the shadows, listening to all of this outside. It was going perfectly. 'You better use that head on your shoulders for this one, dork breath,' Christie's ghost moaned. 'What's your lame brain planning?'

'The beginning of the third act, mama,' she replied.

'What?' Christie snapped.

'It's time for the big finale,' Kelly grinned. 'But first, we need to eliminate some of the day players.'

Kelly understood what she needed to do. The school and everything in it was her exclusive providence. All its contents were her toys to play with in any twisted way she saw fit. She remembered what was in Johnson, the janitor's room. If things got a little crowded in her escapade to erase the recent past, she'd stored something in the back of her mind to fix the problem. 'Toasted marshmallows!' Kelly exclaimed to herself with a demented grin. 'I better make like Tom and cruise!'

The live studio audience in her mind all tittered as she ran back to the janitor's room.

Chapter 25

Bobby, Trevor, and Richie ran to the school's main doors.

'How we 'gonna get in?' Trevor asked.

'We're all 'gonna fart at once and blow it off the hinges – how'd you think pecker breath?' Bobby barked.

'Time for the good old frontal assault,' Trevor said with a toothy grin.

It took three attempts for the three boys to barge one of the double doors in. They howled with laughter as the wood splintered around the jamb and the door jarred inwards. The bottom hinge had smashed out, giving them enough access to climb in.

Richie tried the lights inside, but they didn't work. Only the limited light from the moon seeping through the broken door gave them enough visibility to see where they were going.

'Where are you, mother fuckers?' Bobby growled as they ran like savages towards the first-floor stairs.

'Let's teach these fucks a lesson!' Richie said, reaching inside his jacket pocket and pulling out a bowie knife.

'If there's pussy up there, we party with it first, then cut it later,' Trevor snarled.

They ran up the stairs, grabbed the door handle to the second floor, and pulled it open, all clambering into the hallway's darkness.

'Where the fuck are the–' Trevor, the last through the door, bumped into Richie and Bobby as they stood as still as mannequins. His eyes fixed on what they were staring at. A shiver ran up his spine, and his jaw fell open. A single candle on the tiled floor glowed down the dark hallway. It illuminated a figure sitting behind it, crossed-legged with a devilish face. Whoever it was didn't move; they stayed still, grinning at the three boys like a taxidermy version of themselves. An instant eerie feeling dropped around them like a falling veil.

'Who the hell is that?' Richie whispered.

'I dunno,' Bobby whispered back.

'What is this? Some kind of satanic shit?' Trevor hissed.

'Give me that knife,' Bobby said, swiping it from Richie. 'Come on.'

Slowly, Bobby led the way to the grinning face lit from below.

The rush of adrenaline they had from breaking into the school had quickly calmed to heart-beating tension. They slowly walked forward in silence, one foot after the other; constantly looking at each doorway, they passed with trepidation, waiting for some pop-up boogeyman to jump out. The entire situation had gone from absolute anarchy to total terror.

'Who is that?' Bobby said, squinting, trying to make sense of the face of the figure sitting on the floor.

No response was the answer.

'Who are you!' Richie barked.

Again nothing.

Trevor never said a word. His thudding heart was the only noise he was capable of making.

As they crept closer, recognition hit Ritchie.

'K-Kelly?'

'Hi guys!' she beamed.

Slowly they all began to laugh as they understood it was the one cheerleader they all agreed should be twirling on their batons.

'Kelly, you wack-job! What are you sitting around like that for?' Bobby said.

'Waiting for you guys to get here!' She beamed. As they stepped closer, they could see she was covered in dried blood; her entire face was caked with crimson.

'What did they do to you?' Trevor said disgustedly.

'Them?' Kelly asked as the boys stopped six feet away. She looked down at herself, at all the blood covering her, and understood their question. 'Oh, this!' she beamed. 'Ain't no ones doing but my own!'

'Satanic shit,' Trevor whispered.

Bobby's face screwed up in rage. 'Sick shit,' he exclaimed. 'Fags and queers and sick shit. That's what's going on in here, ain't it?'

'We got something for everybody!' Kelly said. 'Just like what I've got for you boys …'

She slid back from the candle, unfolded her crossed legs, and spread them so the three boys could see up her skirt. She had taken off her panties, and all three of them could see her pussy.

Bobby began to laugh now; the two goons at his side laughed too.

'You want sick shit, babe? We'll give you some sick shit,' Richie said.

They stepped forward, and Kelly slid her ass backward along the floor, moving into shadow.

'Are you boys hot for me?' Kelly asked.

'Yeah,' Bobby growled.

'Pick up the candle,' Kelly said as she got to her feet and held the bottom of her cheer sweater, ready to pull it off.

Bobby tossed the knife back to Richie, reached down, picked up the candle, and held it out to illuminate her.

'Good,' she grinned. 'Now I'm gonna make you hotter than you've ever been before.

She ran her hands up her body to her breasts.

The boys laughed dumbly.

She raised her hands over her head and moved side to side sexily.

The boys laughed dumbly.

Kelly was so glad she's come up with this plan. Thank god Mr. Johnson kept spares for the school's groundskeeping equipment in his room …

'You ready for this?' Kelly asked.

'Yeah!' Trevor chortled.

Mr. Johnson kept the spare blades for the lawnmowers and weed whackers in his room …

'Line up!' Kelly said.

The three boys did, all staring with drooling lips and hungry eyes.

Kelly reached higher, stretching as far as she could.

And in the janitor's room …

Kelly began to cheer. 'You're all lined up to take turns – but you can't bang me with third-degree burns!'

'What?' Bobby said.

… Mr. Johnson also kept the gasoline to run them.

Kelly jumped in the air and pulled the rope dangling next to her secured around the pail of gasoline she'd hidden in the drop ceiling above the three boys. Instantly it crashed down from the cross-section she'd balanced it on. The flammable liquid covered Bobby, Richie, and Trevor – 'Oh, shiiiiittttttttt!' – and hit the exposed flame of the candle. All Kelly could do was backflip away as fast as she could. The explosion made the night turn to day momentarily, the sound deafening. The entire hallway turned pumpkin orange with the blast. The three boys' screams entwined into one giant pained howl as their agony was connected with gas-powered flame. They fell over each other, twisting and turning as their blackened bodies fused with the heat. There was no chance of the fire alarm going off – Kelly had already cut that with the phone lines. The melting flesh of their hands stuck to the floor and strung as they tried to stagger up. Their cries for help to escape the seething heat turned from high-pitched screams to dull croaking groans as their vocal cords began to cook in their throats. Eventually, overcome by the burning, they gave up and slumped to the floor in blackened heaps. Smoke bellowed down either end of the hallway; Kelly started to cough at the repulsive smell of toasted human meat. Kelly used the fire extinguisher on the wall next to her to put out their cooking corpses, then let out a cheer. 

'Barbequed or flame-grilled – mess with me, and you'll be killed! Sorry to be such a drag, but never call my boyfriend a fag!'

The live studio audience in Kelly's mind all turned to a gallery of red-faced devils, and their applause could be heard straight down to the seventh level of hell.

Chapter 26

'Where are the others?' Gretchen shouted down to Jake.

Jake just laughed back up in response.

'What do you guys think you're doing? You've all gone loopy!' Ginger screamed.

'Where the hell is Freddie!' Danny cried.

'Freddie!' Jake exclaimed. 'You're better off trying to fuck a hole in the wall than sticking into beaner boy! You're sick, Shaffer! You're sic–'

The blast of flame inside the school shut Jake's mouth. The windows on the first floor ignited with an orange burst and a huge Whoosssshhhh!

Danny, Gretchen, and Ginger watched the flash of light spread out onto the car lot below, making the asphalt turn a volcanic red.

'What's going on down there?' Danny shouted.

'Shit!' Jake uttered, taking off towards the front of the school.

Did those nimrods start a goddamn fire? What the fuck are they doing?

Jake made it to the front of the school, maneuvered around the broken-through front door that hung by a single hinge and ran inside. He looked right and left; everything was hidden in black shadows. The moon's dim glow led him to the stairs to the first floor, where he'd seen the blast. As Danny threw the door open, an awful aroma strangled his lungs. He coughed, spluttered, and choked on the thick, palpable smoke in the first-floor hallway. Jesus Christ, what exactly was that awful smell? Jake stumbled into the dense smoke, hands on the wall, to find his way forward as visibility was almost zero. The disgusting stench reminded him of when he'd set his sister's hair on fire, only multiplied by a thousand. His eyes watered as he staggered forward, his chest heavy and labored. There was no sign of a fire, even though he'd witnessed the orange glow of one from outside. If there was a fire, someone had put it o–'

'Owwwwww!' Jake had stumbled into something lying on the floor and fell forward on top of it. It was warm and crispy, fleshy and pudgy.

What the …

Squeezing and touching the thing he fell upon, the smoke clearing slightly, he quickly understood what he was lying on the chargrilled corpses of his three friends. It had been their deathly stink that had attacked his nostrils. Flesh, hair, fat, and clothes. Trevor, Bobby, and Richie were decimated relics of the boys they once were. Escapees from a crematorium, dead and in person in the school hall. Jake flew up to his feet, pressed his back to the wall, and whimpered in horror and disbelief.

'Who … Who …'

A loud groan came from in front of the corpses of his friends. Jake gasped as, through the smoke, another body was slumped against the wall, legs akimbo like an old, limp rag doll.

'I tried to help them…' the slumped body moaned. 'I tried to put them out, but I was too latteeeee …'

'Who is that!' Jake coughed out.

'K- K-Kellyyyyyy …'

'Oh, shit,' Jake gagged and jumped over his frazzled friends towards her. Next to her lay a fire extinguisher, its pin pulled and tossed to one side.

'I t-tried to s-save them …' Kelly moaned. 'I tried to put them o-out, b-but he g-got me t-too.'

Jake let out a huge bassy cough. 'Who?' he gasped.

'F-Freddie,' Kelly gasped. 'He's gone blood s-sick. He's killed everyone. He even got me.' Kelly rolled her head towards Jake and opened her eyes; filth and blood covered her face as she stared at him.

'You gotta s-stop Freddie, J-Jake. You gotta stop him for what he did to your friends.'

'That mother fucker,' Jake seethed. 'I'll stop him all right. I'll stop all of these sick fucks. Stay there, Kelly. Once I've finished him off, I'll get you out of here.'

'I tried to save 'em, Jake. I tried to save 'em.' Kelly gestured toward the three burnt boys and began to cry.

'Don't worry,' Jake snarled, wiping his wet smoke-damaged eyes. 'I can fix them all.'

He jumped over Kelly and headed up towards the stairwell to the next floor beyond her.

'That way, Jake,' Kelly moaned. 'The doors are open that way.' She pointed to the opposite end of the hall. Jake made his way around the bodies and ran to the door that led to Danny and the two cheer bitches.

'They're all in on it,' Jake said to himself. 'All of them.'

Kelly's pained face dropped, and her ghoulish grin appeared. 'I should win a Teen Choice award for that, Mom.'

'Get your ass off that floor, Dumbo,' the ghost of Christie said as she appeared through the smoke. 'And get this trash moved,' she gestured to the three burnt bodies. 'We don't have much time left.'

The door to the boiler room flew open, and Kelly struggled in, dragging Bobby's flame-ravaged corpse. 'Look what you did now, you dirty murderer!' Kelly cried at Freddie. Freddie swung around and pulled away as far as the handcuffs allowed him as Kelly dumped the body before him.

'See, this is how it is!' Kelly cried, running back out the door. 'In your lovesick state–' she called back, 'you went on a mission to permanently shut everyone up who wronged you!' Now Kelly pulled in Trevor's corpse. His white teeth grinned up at Freddie; his eyes lids had become fried flaps of skin, exposing white cooked eyeballs fixed in an endless doll's stare. She dumped him on top of Bobby and then ran back out the door. 'We have witnesses-o-rama! We have a canteen full of law-abiding students that saw you take a licking then keep on ticking, all because my boyfriend saved you!'

With the boiler room's heat, the tape over Freddie's mouth had worn away from his sweaty flesh. He gritted his teeth and pulled against the cuffs.

'Oh no!' Kelly cried. 'This one's a splitter!' She quickly dragged Richie's body into the boiler room. His fire-ruined flesh had turned to a blackened jigsaw puzzle of burst skin. He'd split open where Kelly had pulled him along, and a smear of boiled blood had trailed behind the body.

'For the love of Bayside! Why'd you have to get so messy, Richie!' Kelly caught sight of herself in an old cracked mirror that had been hung from one of the dirty walls. She quickly checked herself and pulled a face. 'Better give the old kisser a spruce up for the big finale,' Kelly told herself. She reached down, slapped both palms in Richie's blood, and wiped it all over her face.

'You're nuts,' Freddie uttered.

Kelly turned robotically towards him.

'I'm nuts! There is a very simple formula to life, Freddie. Things happen a certain way. The sun rises in the morning. The sun goes down at night. And head cheerleaders always go out with the head of the football team! NBC, ABC, FOX – all the major networks know it! Life imitates art, and art imitates life. Life could be perfect if it was like T.V. … I'm gonna make it like T.V.. I'm gonna make everything how it should be! This is perfect American PG-rated fun for all of the family. I rescue Danny from the crazed stalker male cheerleader who manipulated him and straighten him out to be the perfect boyfriend he was always meant to be!'

Freddie began to laugh. 'You have no idea what life is about, you ditzy bitch.'

'Not perfect …' Kelly growled.

'You think life is like T.V.! You think everything should be as simple as reading a screenplay?'

'Not perfect, Freddie …' Kelly growled again.

'You think being the perfect little cheerleader, like an extra from Saved by the Bell–'

'I'm no fucking extra!' Kelly screamed. Foam began to bubble at the sides of her mouth.

'–means you are a perfect person? Kelly, you are a homicidal fruit basket! No one is going to believe you!'

'Hey! I'm no bigot! I'm no hatemonger. But if there's anyone fruity around here, it's you, you YOU!

Freddie laughed again, pulling against his handcuffs. 'I was trying to decide how I would off you, you relationship wrecker!' Kelly snapped. 'Should I make it short and sweet?' She pulled out the .45 and pressed it to his cheek. Freddie flinched away from the cold steel. 'But I decided what would make the most impact … How I killed you while you tried to drag me to your little death den in the boiler room. I got the better of you, wrestled the cuffs from you, and trapped you with them. Then, while you were kicking out like a savage. I broke a gas pipe–' Kelly ran over to one of the gas pipes curling around the other side of the boiler room, grabbed a wrench from a workbench, and started to loosen a join. '–and locked you in here with the furnace going.' As soon as gas started to hiss, Kelly ran to the furnace's door, took an old rag from the floor, and threw the door open. Orange flames licked around its inside.

Freddie pulled against the cuffs and cried out in anger and frustration.

'That way, you can have time to think about all those dirty homo erotic things you've filled a straight man's head with!'

'He's not straight!' Freddie cried.

'Cocker-bull winkle!' Kelly cried. 'If there's anything gay crawling around his head, you put it there!'

Kelly jumped over to the doorway. 'Pee-yeeewwww!' she exclaimed. 'Something's smelling a little gassy.' A loud, piercing scream came from above. Kelly looked upwards. 'Looks like Jake found the others. I better swoop in and save the day. Not before you finish off Gretchen and Ginger, you monster!'

Freddie screamed at her; spittle shot between his bared teeth as he tried to escape the cuffs.

'It's been a real blast!' Kelly grinned, tucking the gun in the back of her cheer skirt. 'Now it's going to be a real blast. Just remember, in the next life, Freddie, A.C. Slater never turns Zack Morris into cock boy! Adios, muchacho!'

She slammed the door and took off down the hallway outside.

Freddie groaned, yelled, and swung himself from side to side. The smell of death filled the room. The smell of leaking gas made tears fall from his eyes; he understood the next corpse in the boiler room would be his own. Blinking his eyes clear, staring down at where the three bullies' burnt bodies lay, Freddie gasped at what could be his last chance to escape.

Chapter 27

Jake's feet pounded one after the other as he ascended the stairs. His breath was ragged, his body fatigued, and sweat poured from his brow, but he kept moving. Rage fuelled him and kept him pressing forward. Originally his fury was anchored to being humiliated in the cafeteria, but bursting through the school doors, finding his boys turned to smoldering wrecks and that fine piece of ass Kelly sprawled out on the floor covered in blood … It had sent him off the charts with anger. He ran along the second-floor corridor – no one was there. Heading back, he ascended to the third – no one was there. Clambering up the final set of stairs to the fourth floor,, he stumbled to the once locked doors, he immediately heard voices on the other side – someone was there. Ginger, Gretchen, and Danny. Did the two bitches know that the cheer queer had gone slash crazy? Maybe. Maybe not. But if Danny and Freddie had been blowing each other's rods like they were drowning and their balls were filled with air, there was a good chance the pair had some homo, homicidal death pact. Anything straight and normal was being left in a pool of blood because they'd become deranged with all that fairy shit they had fluttering through their veins.

With enough anger to fuel a float at a pride parade, Danny pushed his face to the security glass in the fourth-floor door and squinted into the darkness. He could see their three figures standing in silhouette, backlit by the moon. Even with limited visibility, he could see the bitches had been duped. They didn't know they were straight white fodder for the blades of a couple of backdoor fart knockers. These flatheads and all this P.C. shit drove him crazy. Always screaming, we're all equal! We're all equal! They all needed gunning down in front of a firing squad. Cock, balls, red meat, Ford pick-up trucks, and some bitch bonking your baloney was the American way. Look where trusting a couple of fucks who bat for the other team got you. That Kelly was crazy as a shit house rat – everyone knew it. But Freddie the fag cutting her up because she was Danny's girl? 'That ain't fucking right …' Jake seethed. 'That ain't fucking right …'

No one was going to convict him for filleting a couple of fruitcakes. He could do what he liked. When the cops saw what Freddie did, they'd pin a medal to his chest for what he was about to do. He looked left and right; he needed something quick and easy to dispatch Danny. Looking at the stairs he'd just run up, evil inspiration gleamed in his eyes.

'Where the hell are they?' Gretchen said, a tremble in her voice.

'I don't know …' Danny said, frantically moving from window to window, looking down. Ginger stood next to him; for the first time all day, she had no smart-assed comments. Tension wrapped around her throat like a tentacle.

'They've done something with the others, haven't they,' Ginger said. 'This was their trap all along.'

'Clam it, Ginger,' Gretchen said.

'What if they're in here?' Ginger said. 'What if they're waiting for us right now!'

'If we can't get out, they can't get i–'

The door at the end of the hallway burst open, and a teenage battle cry screamed out. 'Dannnnyyyyy! I'm gonna fucking end youuuuuuu!'

Gretchen screamed so loudly it should have smashed every window in the school.

Jake was pounding towards them, giant blades in each hand. He'd ripped two lengths of worn aluminum stair nosing up, and blood dripped from his fingertips. The edges were rough but sharp, their underneaths covered in tiny spikes for gripping the floor. Jake could use them for ripping flesh.

'We ain't in the cafeteria now, Shaffer,' Jake growled. 'There's no little friends or teachers to save you. And I'm gonna teach you and your kind a lesson.' Jake raised the weapons in each hand and rushed towards Danny and the girls.

Ginger and Gretchen cried out.

Below, on the third floor, Kelly looked up at the sound and grinned.

'Better put the old butt-ski in gear!' She mimicked pulling a transmission into drive, putting the pedal to the metal and steered up to the fourth floor.

In her mind, the live studio audience that dwelled there all began laughing and cheering.

Chapter 28

When Kelly pulled the dead boys into the boiler room, she'd forgotten Richie's knife in his burnt hand. He hadn't dropped it when the gasoline was poured down upon them. It stood upright, fused to his blackened fingers. Now, handcuffed to a pipe, coughing as gas filled the room, seeping closer and closer to the boiler's flames, the knife was Freddie's last chance to escape. Stretching out as far as he could, sweat falling from his brow to his eyes, he blurrily aimed his right foot at the protruding weapon. The toe of his sneaker just gently touched its end. The knife was held tight. The gasoline had sealed it firmly in Richie's dead grasp and cooked it in place. Freddie tried to reposition, desperately pulling his bound arms to their limits, trying to reach the blade with his foot. Pulling every muscle in his body, he could only make his sole knick the knife's end as his toe did from the other angle.

'Shit!' Freddie cried.

Time was running out, and desperation was taking hold. He pulled against the cuffs that bound him until his wrists ran red with blood. Freddie screamed. He shouldn't have to die like this! This was all wrong! There had never been any part of his life where he thought he'd be bound and waiting for a fiery death. He didn't want to die! He wanted to live! Something Coach Conners had once yelled at Chrissie Chambers during cheer practice came screeching back from the past: 'No pain! No gain!' He had repeatedly blasted the eighties proverb at her when she joined the team a year ago. She was clumsy, porky, and only on the squad because of her dad's sponsorship.

The proverb rang true in a different way now.

If he wanted to live, there would have to be pain.

Pain or death was his only choice now, not that the two were mutually exclusive.

He thought of Kelly, the class A, top-tier nut-bag, and all the awful things she had said and done.

Freddie's teeth gritted.

This wasn't all about her.

It was about Freddie wanting to be with Danny and Danny wanting to be with Freddie. Being out and gay at high school would be hard, but this was ridiculous. All these people were dead because Kelly wanted a squeaky clean, wholesome life with his boyfriend. A squeaky clean, wholesome life that secretly dripped with blood.

Ally and Julie.

Kelly, you bitch. Why did you do it …

The smell of gas had become more palpable.

He had to act now.

No pain! No gain!

Freddie closed his eyes and stretched as far as he could. The flat of his right sole hovered over the tip of the blade.

No pain! No gain! No pain! No gain!

He wanted to live. Wanted to stop the madness around him.

This was the only way.

Roaring with rage, screwing his face up, ready for the pain. Freddie stomped down on the upright blade as hard as he could. The blade punctured the sole of his sneaker, shot through his skin, smashed through bone, and punctured out the other side. Blood squirted out and hit the ceiling. Wailing in agony, his entire body shaking, Freddie began to pull Richie's body towards him with the blade stuck through his foot. The blade slid through his soft flesh until it jammed against a piece of bone and became caught. Blood poured out all over the knife, soaking Richie's blackened hand, and pooled on the floor. Quivering in pain,

No pain! No gain!

The smell of gas became stronger; the fire crackled louder. Tears rolled down Freddie's face; pain trembled on his lips. He yanked the heavy corpse closer as the blade sawed at his skin.

Chapter 29

Kelly skipped to the fourth floor and peered around the security glass in the door. Down the hallway beyond, Jake was swinging two aluminum blades in each hand like a pair of swords, cutting and swiping the air in front of Danny.

'Not Perfect …' Kelly growled.

'Ding-dong!'

A hand yanked her right-hand pigtail and jerked her head away from the window.

'Owww!' Kelly cried.

'Well. I gotta admit, you're doing a pretty good job mopping up all the loose ends around here,' Christie's bloody ghost was back. 'When that boiler room blows, it'll spread through the school and cleanse any fingerprints you've left behind, burning away any little fuckerdillos you might have forgotten.'

Kelly pulled a ghoulish grin and raised her eyebrows up and down.

'Ding-dong!'

Christie yanked her right pigtail again.

'Ow!'

'Don't get so cocky,' Christie snapped. She eyed her daughter up and down. Here they were, the pair of them covered in blood. A proud expression peeled across Christie's dead face. 'You're doing good, but you ain't out the woods yet.'

'I just need old four-eyes and red out of the picture. Huh?'

'Don't be so crass, bragging about killing those two cupcakes. Actions speak louder than words, dork breath.'

'Actions speak louder than words,' Kelly reiterated as she moved from the window in the door and slipped back into the shadows.

'Come on, you light-footed fuck,' Jake growled, swinging the pair of blades at Danny. 'You know what's going on here. You're little gay pal is carving up the straights because he's all fucked up in the head department.'

Jake swung and sliced the air in front of Danny's face. Danny staggered backward, looking for an opening to take advantage of.

'What the fuck are you talking about?' Danny snapped.

'He killed Bobby and the others.'

'Bullshit!' Ginger cried, backing away from Jake.

'Freddie didn't do anything!' Gretchen bellowed.

'I found Kelly all carved up downstairs,' Jake said. 'She was clinging onto life by a thread, but she told me Freddie did all this.' He took another swing at Danny and missed. 'He's turned the school into a bloodbath because he wants you all to himself. That's what this is, isn't it? You two are the butt-fucking Bonnie and Clyde of Silver Lake High!' Jake lunged forward, his eyes wide and crazed. He took a big swing with the stair nosing in his right hand, lunged forward, and caught Danny diagonally across the face. 'Aggghhhhhhh!' A fine line of blood opened and gushed down his forehead to his cheek, turning his vision a deep crimson as blood filled his sockets. He stumbled backward, momentarily blinded.

Jake laughed like a lunatic. 'Nah! All you guys are is a couple of cocksucking Clydes!'

Raising both stair nosing up above his head like an executioner, ready to bring the makeshift blades down on Danny while he was temporally blinded. Ginger charged Jake. She caught him unaware, tackling him to the ground like a play in a football game. Jake hit the hallway floor, head reverberating from the tiles, and both weapons flew from his grasp.

'Get him!' Gretchen shouted, cheering on the cheerleader.

Ginger slugged Jake with a left and a right, opening his face up immediately. 'There's one thing a shriveled dick like you should know,' Ginger gasped, planting one on Jake's nose. She brought up her right knee and slammed it between Jake's legs. 'Don't fuck with the cheer squad, asshole!' His nuts made a satisfying crunch as both balls nearly blew out either side of their sack.

'You red-headed fag hag!' Jake moaned and rose up and head-butted Ginger.

Ginger flew backward, stumbling into Gretchen, the pair crumpling to the floor. Jake staggered to his feet, teeth gritted with the pain in his groin. He stumbled to one side, leaning against the wall. 'I'm 'gonna teach you a lesson, bitch,' Jake said. 'You got the coach fired for sitting on his face? I'm 'gonna sit on your face, and you're 'gonna eat me out and like it!'

'No!' Gretchen cried as Jake undid his belt and limped over to the woozy Ginger sprawled atop her.

'Polish those glasses,' Jake giggled. He began to pull his pants down. 'You're 'gonna wanna see this!'

Suddenly, Danny leaped on Jake's back and dragged him to the ground. 'You sick mother fucker!' The two began brawling, punching, ripping, and tearing into one another.

'Get up!' Gretchen cried, pushing Ginger off of her.

'That bastard nailed me,' Ginger groaned, holding her head and stumbling to her feet. She went running to kick Jake in the ribs as he rolled on top of Danny and slugged him. But Jake reached out and grabbed her ankle and yanked her onto her ass. Ginger hit the floor with a thump, and a sharp pain reverberated up her spine. 'Owwww!' she moaned. It gave Danny a second to gain an advantage as he poked Jake in the eyes. Jake rolled off of Danny in screaming pain. 'Come on,' Danny said as he scrambled to his feet, 'let's get out of here.' He grabbed the two girls and started running for the stairwell door, but Jake was on Danny's back, dragging him to the floor.

'Shit!' Gretchen shouted.

'Go!' Danny yelled to them, fighting Jake off. 'Get help!'

Ginger nodded, watching as Danny got the upper hand in the fight. If Jake had somehow got into the building, there must be some way they could get out.

'Come on! Let's go!' Ginger bellowed.

Gretchen looked back over her shoulder as she and Ginger ran. She didn't want to leave Danny, but what choice did they have? Where were all the others? What had Jake and the other football douche-bags done to them? As they reached the end of the hallway, Ginger threw the door open and lunged down the stairs, taking two at a time. Before they knew it, the girls were almost on the second floor. 'We need to get out of here,' Ginger cried. 'We need to call the co–'

'Eggghhhhhhhhhhh …'

An anguished groan came from a darkened corner in the stairwell of the second floor.

'Did you h-hear that?' Gretchen gasped.

Both girls stared into the space where the grim sound had come from.

'Screw that!' Ginger exclaimed. 'I choose to ignore it!' She went to bolt down to the first floor when a figure floundered from the shadows towards them. Both girls cried out as Kelly, covered in blood, approached them.

'Hellppp meeee …' Kelly moaned.

'Jesus Christ!' Ginger said.

'Who did this to you?' Gretchen asked.

'The camera …' Kelly coughed as she slumped against the wall opposite.

Gretchen paused and realized that she still had the VHS camera hanging by her side. Its cumbersome weight had evaporated to nothing with the terror coursing through her veins.

'The camera?' Gretchen replied.

'We need to film something,' Kelly moaned. 'Turn it on quickly.'

'We've just got to get out of here! There's no time for this!' Ginger wheezed, her breath lost from running down the stairs.

Gretchen threw the camera on her shoulder, snapped off the lens cap, and pushed up against the eyepiece. The little red record light popped on above the lens.

'Y-you have to see this,' Kelly said, almost doubling over, holding her stomach.

'What!' Gretchen cried, the camera shaking in her hands.

'This,' Kelly said. All signs of pain vaporized as an evil screwed-up glare set on her face. Kelly swung an arm around her back, yanked something from beneath her cheer sweater, and plugged it into the camera lens. Gretchen had no time to see the blurred shape that Kelly had butted to the glass she was staring through, but Ginger did.

'What are yo–'

Ginger didn't finish her sentence.

Kelly pulled the trigger of the .45, and the loudest explosion they had ever heard erupted. The camera's lens exploded; the ruined reels of tape she was recording on shot out in spools and rolled down the stairs. The entire body of the VHS camera erupted in a huge flurry of sparks and obliterated plastic. As did Gretchen's head. The front of her face imploded with the bullet's impact. Skull, brain, flesh, and blood sprayed out the back with the close-range shot. Everything inside her head splattered against the wall behind her, a hot and steamy mess now outside. A disgusting wet coppery smell hit the air to mingle with the cordite of the bullet. Gretchen's body fell to the floor, instantly twitching as the reaper scooped out any last wisps of life and whisked her away. The blast blew back Kelly's pigtails with fresh blood to cover her caked visage.

'That's what happens when you get snoopy-snoopy with your camera,' Kelly grinned. 'You get edited out of existence – permanently!'

'Y-you f-fucking lunatic,' Ginger said, trembling all over.

'Potty mouth in the house!' Kelly cried. 'Time to put a sock in it!' She plugged the .45 into Ginger's lips and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 30

The .45's chamber only clicked.

It was empty.

Christie's voice snapped over Kelly's shoulder. 'You're out of rounds, dork breath!'

'Oh, Smurf Berry Crunch!' Kelly groaned.

Ginger, whose face was scrunched up, ready to have her brains blown out, opened her eyes in disbelief. A feeling like a new second run at life surged through her body. Then her expression curled to absolute anger. A hot, primal jungle rage turned Ginger from a cocky cheerleader to a vengeance-filled vixen, fiery and feral.

'Any chance of a time out?' Kelly shrugged.

Ginger pounced like a wild cat, tearing her fingernails down Kelly's face and turning her skin into ragged ribbons. Kelly screamed and turned rabid. 'Not the face! Not the fucking face!' But Ginger wasn't going to listen or give pity. 'I always knew you were a class-A head case!' Ginger cried, giving Kelly a quick left-right in the kisser. Kelly flew backward from the blows, crashed through the doorway into the second-floor hallway, and went ass over teakettle. The few marbles she had left in the upstairs department rolled around like broken pool balls as she cracked her head on the tiled floor. Ginger prowled around Kelly, fingers curled to claws. 'I told the other girls something was wrong with you; something had snapped long ago in that pigtailed melon you call a head!' Kelly tried to crawl to a sitting position, but Ginger struck out with a wild kick into Kelly's lips. Immediately Kelly could taste blood. 'They all thought I was the fruitcake 'cause I like to party! Cause I'm not your usual milk-toast cheerleader! But I knew all along you were just a kook-cake!'

Kelly's eyes sprung open wide, all grogginess from Ginger's blows already gone as anger re-wired her fractured mind. 'Kook-cake! You filthy face-sitting slut!'

The K word – the same K word used by the slutty secretary that gave her the news Saved by the Bell had been canceled – bolted through her body like lightning, rejuvenating her rage. Kelly shot up, screaming like a lost soul trying to escape hell. She grabbed Ginger's hair and pushed her backward, spittle shooting in her face as Kelly wailed in rage. She slammed Ginger so hard into the door behind them that they broke the lock, snapped the frame, and the hinges gave out, sprawling them into the room beyond – shop class.

On the fourth floor, hearing the gunshot below, both boys were distracted in their fight. Danny took advantage and slammed Jake against the row of windows, shattering a pane with the back of his head.

'Why don't you just fuck off, Jake! What's your problem?'

Jake, who was playing possum, pretending to be limp in Danny's grasp, struck out, grabbed Danny, swung and slammed him into the next window along, and smashed it. 'It ain't fucking right, Shaffer,' Jake growled. It just ain't fucking right! It makes me sick you and the cheer twink like to sink each other's submarines. But offing my friends, offing the cheer team! All for some homo-cidle queer pact! It ain't righhhttt!'

Danny slugged Jake hard and knocked him silly, but Jake still staggered up. Danny looked around, left and right; what could he do to put Jake away? Then he looked up to the roof access hatch above and the pull-down ladder beside it. He had no idea if going down meant getting out; he could only pray the girls had escaped. But going up and out was his quickest way to escape Jake. He could cry from the school roof for help, scream until his tonsils bled. Someone had to hear! Danny shot at Jake and went to lash out with a high kick, but Jake caught his leg, swung, and smashed him against the wall.

'You're little cheer dear is a bloodthirsty lunatic!' Jake cried as Danny slid to the floor. 'Grow a brain, Shaffer! He's a killer! A maniac! Listen to me! He locked you all in here and slayed them all!'

'No!' Danny cried, but a sick feeling bled through him. He knew Freddie better than anybody. They had both confided in each other over their mutual love. But there was something raw, desperate, and real to Jake. Something that made the trust he had held so dearly to Freddie shudder as if someone had walked across his grave.

'You're lying!' Danny cried. The statement shouted to Jake and to the part of himself that doubted.

Jake reached down and was about to yank Danny up for further punishment, but Danny slammed a right hook into Jake's balls. Jake's eyes almost popped from his head with pain. He doubled over and held his stomach in agony. Danny got to his feet, jumped up, and pulled down the ladder to the roof hatch. Quickly, he ascended the aluminum steps, pushed the hatch open, and escaped into the cool night air.

'I'm 'gonna get you, you faggot!' Jake wheezed, getting to his feet and jerkily following Danny up.

The heavy stench of gas grasped Freddie's throat like a constricting adder. He didn't know how the boiler room hadn't blown yet, but time was running out fast. He had managed to drag Richie's body in front of him; his punctured foot was a numb gory mess. The blade had almost split his entire foot into two; the gaping hole there gushed blood. Tears, sweat, and agony held on Freddie's face without signs of slipping. Gritting his teeth, coughing and groaning, he yanked his foot free of the blade.

'Yaaaaarrrrrhhhhh!'

It slid easily through his ruined flesh; another spray of blood shot up. His entire right leg had become numb with pain. It was heavy and dead; he had to ignore the agony. Taking a deep breath, he began to use his left foot to stomp down on Richie's wrist to try and free the knife from his solid grip. The knife didn't come free. Rigor mortis or the fire had stiffened the body. Bobby kicked harder, feeling his sneaker slip off Richie's sizzled skin with each failed attempt. Then, giving it everything he had, he kicked hard. There was a sickening snap; bile filled Freddie's throat with the thought of what he had done. Bobbie's hand was broken off at the wrist, still gripping the knife. Boiled blood oozed from the end and mingled with his own spilled fluid. Spew burst from Freddie's lips at the sickening sight. He couldn't allow the privilege of feeling ill at the gory mess; his survival depended on it. Reaching out with his good left foot, he scooted the snapped appendage closer. The coagulating pool of crimson slicked the movement. His stabbed right foot was dull and cumbersome, but with great pain, he cupped both feet around the crudely amputated hand. Holding onto the handcuffs that bound him, Freddie grasped the hand between his feet as tight as possible. He tensed his muscles, took a wheezing breath, and raised both feet upwards with the hand in their grip. His flexibility as a cheerleader was an added asset in his attempt to escape. But the pain of his ravaged foot was too much. It slipped from his grasp and splattered into the pool of blood before him.

'Nooooo!'

Freddie sobbed, but he couldn't give up, wouldn't give up. Roaring with agony and anger, he defied the pain that coursed through his body. He grasped the appendage between his sneakers and, this time, raised both legs vertically in a quick sharp motion. The pain was astronomical, but before he knew it, he was folded in half, his feet above his head, holding Richie's snapped hand and the knife. Quickly he reached out and took the hand from his feet. Dropping his legs back down, the pain lessened but didn't go away. The hand felt crispy and gooey, but that was the least of his problems. Savagely, he systematically snapped Richie's burnt fingers to release the knife. The sounds and texture reminded him of tearing up a rotten Thanksgiving turkey. A warped smile trembled across his lips as he watched torn-off fingers fall past his face to the floor. Eventually, the entire hand fell and hit the floor: the knife was in his grasp.

Freddie let out a wheezing laugh.

He had no idea how to pick a lock; cutting through the handcuff's chains wasn't an option.

If he was going to live, a sacrifice had to be made, a decision to save his life from the oncoming explosion.

His shivering smile became a pain-drenched wail.

The decision was made.

… No pain  … No gain …

Blindly, he started to hack his left thumb off.

His cries stopped as a new pain took hold.

The boiler room looked like it started to rain red as blood sprayed down his catatonic face.

… No pain  … No gain …

Chapter 31

Ginger and Kelly dragged each other by the hair into shop class. Everything was darkened and seeped in shadow, but immediately Ginger grabbed a lathe-turned chair leg and used it to club Kelly across the back.

'Fudge-cicles!' Kelly cried as the blow met its mark. The empty .45 flew from her hands and slid along the floor. She buckled over, grabbed her spine in pain, and limped towards a tool bench.

Ginger screamed, 'Like that, you crazy bitc-'

But suddenly, Kelly came screaming at Ginger with a long screwdriver snatched from the tool bench. Ginger swung wildly again with the chair leg, catching the screwdriver and flinging it from her grasp.

'Pop-Tarts!' Kelly cried again, quickly backing up from Ginger. Ginger had gone full hellcat and had embraced that primal instinct that pulsed at her core. In the moonlit classroom, her eyes almost took on an iridescent quality with the rage that glowed behind them. A quick stirring of terror whisked through Kelly. Ginger was the only cheerleader who could match her anger; momentarily, it scared Kelly. Not that Kelly would give her the satisfaction; she stood her ground and bared her teeth as they circled one another.

'You think you’re something special, Ginger, but you're just a red-headed floozy!' Kelly cried. 'You're the school's favorite slut! Catting around like a stray! Always rubbing up against guys' legs for attention!' Kelly reached under her cheer skirt and plunged her right hand into her panties. 'I found a box of spare shells,' Kelly cried, bringing out a handful of bullets. 'I thought I'd keep them for safe keeping in my moo moo!' Kelly pulled three new slugs from her pussy and leaped to where the .45 had fallen. She found it and plugged the chamber with the new bullets.

Ginger pounced, kicked the gun from Kelly's grasp, and rolled on the floor to grab it; Kelly almost had her hand on it, but Ginger tossed and dunked it into the big fish tank near the classroom window.

'No fair!' Kelly cried.

Ginger ran back towards a workbench opposite and grabbed one of the battery-operated power tools that hung on the wall. Kelly could have kicked herself for not noticing the power tools sooner in the limited light. A whirring electric motor started, and Ginger wielded a hand-held planer before her like a weapon. 'You always thought you were something special, Kelly,' Ginger grinned. 'Now, I'm going to make you a real plain Jane!'

'Hey! I make the zingers for the audience, bitch!' Kelly cried.

Ginger swiped at Kelly, catching her left-hand shoulder with the dangerous power tool.

'Holy macaroni! No fair!' Kelly cried in agony.

Danny ran to the side of the roof overlooking the front of the school. Below, on the other side of the street, the silhouettes of a teen couple walking hand in hand passed under a streetlight. 'Hey!' Danny shouted. The couple stopped dead in their tracks and looked up. 'Go get help! There's a–' he paused, trying to think of what he would say, '–we're trapped here! Someone's gone nuts and attacked some of the students!'  The girl stayed fixed on the spot, looking up; the guy rolled his eyes and pulled a mocking face. 'Yeah. Sure, buddy,' he yelled back. 'If you think I'm falling for some kind of gag, you got something com–'

The guy stopped yelling. His face fell into a mask of shock.

Immediately, an electrical cord swung out and wrapped around Danny's throat.

'There ain't no getting out of this one, Shaffer!' Jake hissed, yanking Danny gasping for air, back towards the center of the roof.

The couple below ran off into the night to find help.

Kelly pressed her hand to the gaping wound Ginger had torn into her with the hand-held planer. It was the first time a drop of her blood had been spilled all night, even though she was covered in so many others. 'My shoulder was perfect! That's going to leave a scar!' 

'You're going to need a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon to fix your face when I'm done, you kook!' Ginger cried.

'Kook! Stop saying that!' Kelly exclaimed. Her face wrinkled in horror. 'Not perfect!'

Using her cheerleading speed, Kelly vaulted over the desks in the classroom. She headed for a wall of mounted power tools, grabbed the hand-held drill from it, and squeezed the trigger. It made a satisfying, grinding whirr. A grotesque smile grew over Kelly's face. 'Music to my ears, Ginger! Now it's time to help you graduate to a prime plot at Corpus rigor mortis!'

The live studio audience in her head all laughed at the groaner.

Kelly pulled the drill's trigger; its fifteen-inch bit twirled in the moonlight. She took three steps forward, and the battery died. 'Fish sticks! Those shop class dweeber-naughts didn't charge their batteries!' Kelly quickly looked at the fish tank where the gun sat submerged at the bottom. Was there time to make a run for it?

Ginger charged at her, the blades on the hand plainer, swirling like a hungry mouth looking for fresh flesh.

Kelly yelped, darted to one side, grabbed a two-by-four leaning next to a pillar drill, and swung it at Ginger. She pounded into the planer's blades, and a flurry of chewed wood sprayed in the air like early Christmas snow. The two girls' teeth were gritted, determination to dominate the other etched into their faces. Kelly swung the length of wood again; this time, its gnawed end caught into the planer's blades and jammed it dead.

'Ha!' Kelly cried, wrenching the power tool from Ginger's grasp, leaning into plant a right across her lips.

'Bitch!' Ginger cried. She reeled from the blow and then pounced forward. The catfight was back on. The two girls lashed out and tore into one another.

'You can't be perfect, Ginger!' Kelly cried. 'You never could! You're not a Silver Lake Lakers cheerleader! You're too dirty! You're a dirty girl!'

Ginger put Kelly into a headlock; Kelly twisted out of it and turned Ginger's wrist behind her back into an arm bar.

'What did you ever offer the school tramping around with sleazy guys? All you were good for is being the founding member of the disease of the month club!'

'Shut up!' Ginger hissed. She threw her head back and head-butted Kelly right in the nose. There was a mighty crack, and blood burst from Kelly's nostrils.

'Not the schnoz!' Kelly cried tears in her eyes. 'No fair! It'll never be perfect again!'

Freddie had given up groaning in pain. He hung lifelessly from the handcuffs hacking the last flap of flesh that connected his thumb to his palm. The skin and sinew had been bad, but sawing through the bone was an agony that had no description. No one should have to feel that pain. It had sent Freddie into a drooling state of shock as the blade ground deeper. The way it snapped made him realize he had a skeleton inside his skin, a frail, thin skeleton always grinning. Slack-faced and riddled with pain, he felt his flesh face would never grin again. The last string of skin was cut through with a wet twang; the thumb fell to the floor with a dull splat. His head was swimming with pain, and the leaking gas had polluted his lungs and smogged his brain. His entire top half was dripping red from blood loss. Slowly, he rubbed the spilled viscous fluid all over his thumb-less hand as a lubricant and then yanked the hand free of the cuffs. Immediately, he crumpled to the floor in a bloody heap. There was no celebration or burst of life with his freedom. All he could do was slump forward and weakly crawl towards the door on his hands and knees.

Got to make it out the door … got to save Danny … tell him the truth …

Kelly put her hands to her nose and then looked at the red that flowed there. 'My nose!' she cried. Ginger swung around and went to plow Kelly with another blow to the face. Kelly reached for a worktop; there was a tool concealed in shadow. As she grabbed it, a sick smile drew over her face again. Kelly swung the crowbar with all her force, planting it across Ginger's cheek, pulverizing the bone beneath. Ginger whirled around, almost knocked out, and landed bent over a desk with her ass in the air. Kelly saw her chance to teach the cheap ginger tramp a lesson she'd never forget. Kelly reached back to the power tools on the wall and grabbed the industrial power drill that was still corded into the wall. She pulled the trigger and watched as the thirty-inch long, three-inch wide bit spun angrily.

'You sat on Coach Conners' face and got him fired!' Kelly cried, blood spraying from her lips. 'Why don't you sit and spin on this big rod!'

Kelly rushed forward, Ginger's rump her target. The giant drill bit had no problem plowing Ginger's pussy lips. It mutilated any bone and flesh in its way as it tunneled up her tubes and ripped both holes into one. Ginger shot up in shock and pain, hands reaching out instinctively in agony, unable to scream. Kelly bored deeper and turned the drill bit left and right while pushing with all her might so it would stir Ginger's guts like soup. Ginger sprawled out over the desk, a hot load of blood spraying from her lips. Then she was quivering over the desk, twitching as the last dips of life quivered from her body. Kelly let go of the drill; it stayed stuck inside Ginger's ruined orifice.

Freddie tried to crawl faster. The door to exit the boiler room was so near but so far. It was like trying to drag a cruise ship's anchor behind him with all the pain that paralyzed his body. His breathing was slow and gasping; black loomed around the edges of his vision and pressed in.

The hiss of the gas pipe grew and grew.

SSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH

The crackling fire in the boiler sounded like the bones beneath his flesh disintegrating.

He wheezed quick and fast. Death was upon him and squeezing him for everything he was worth.

The door to freedom was so close! His hands slid along the floor, leaving bloody prints.

He reached out, ready to push the door open. He stumbled forward with one hand outstretched. All he had to do was open the door and let the air fill his lungs. He had to escape, for the girls, for Danny, the first boy he'd ever loved who loved him back. Red was the color of love, but it was also the color of meat, blood, and torn flesh.

He wanted to be with Danny. Had to be with him.

The door was so close … so close …

Tears dripped from his bloody face, leaving clean trails on his skin.

'Dannyyyyyy…' he murmured.

The choking gas strangled him harder.

He reached out.

So close …

Kelly began to cheer: 'Ginger Ginger, it's hard luck. You got killed by the ultimate fuck! You liked it deep, you liked it fast, and I gave it to you up the as–'

The explosion from the boiler room rocked the entire building. The deafening noise reverberated up every heating duct, followed by lapping flames that pushed from the grills on every floor and ignited everything around them. The school was on fire. All evidence of Kelly's dirty deeds caught alight and began to go up in smoke. They were Freddie's chargrilled deeds now. Black and devastated, just like his bound body.

Freddie was dead. She could feel it. Burning in hell where he belonged.

Kelly shook her head from side to side; stars twinkled in her eyes. Life felt soooo perfect at that moment. A euphoria like nothing she'd experienced before wrapped her in its arms. It was like being cradled by the angel of death. Kelly began to cheer: 'Kelly Kennedy is number one! Now it's time for more fun! The girls are toast, and Freddie is a killer, and he'll be blamed for being a pussy driller!'

'Ding-dong!' Christie's bloody ghost appeared beside her, yanking her right-hand pigtail.

'Ow!'

'No celebrating yet, dweeb breath. You need to save lover boy from Jake – then you'll be home free.'

'Then I'll be perfect! I stopped a killer; I saved the man I love. I'll make him love me.'

'I'm proud of you, Kelly,' Christie said. She nodded dully in approval. 'Now get the job done.'

Kelly looked around at the armory of power tools and remembered the gun soaked at the bottom of the fish tank.

'I will, mama. I will.'

Chapter 32

Kelly picked her weapons of choice and took off as fast as possible to the fourth floor. Running down the corridor, there was no sign of Jake or Danny. She skidded to a stop; her head reeled in pain from the pasting Ginger had given her in shop class. The ladder to the roof was just in front of her; she could hear Danny and Jake up top, rolling around on the loose shingle as they brawled.

'It's your big moment – The finale,' she told herself.

There was no time to draft a screenplay in her head; whatever happened on the roof was a hundred percent improvisation. Kelly composed herself and caught her breath. This was it. Her plan had finally hit fruition. She reached out and grabbed hold of the ladder's rungs. Christie's bloody face appeared through them.

'This is it. The final furlong,' Christie said with seriousness in her eyes. 'You did better than your dear old mom. They tried to make a fool of me, but they never came close to you. You really are perfect, Kelly.'

'I know, Mama!' Kelly grinned dreamy-eyed. 'I know!'

Kelly took off up to the roof. She scrambled onto the moonlit shingle, looked around, and found Danny and Jake rolling around on top of one another by the building's edge. Quickly she ran towards them.

'You make me fucking sick, Shaffer,' Jake sneered, clambering onto Danny and strangling him. 'Even after your backdoor beaner has slaughtered everyone, you're still trying to fight me.'

'That's bullshit,' Danny coughed, trying to reach up and scratch at Jake's eyes, pull his hair, or grab anything he could get ahold of.

'Bull-fucking true!' Jake roared, squeezing Danny's throat tighter. 'He's nailed the cheer team. He's nailed my boys – our football team. He's even been nailing you! And you loved it, you fucking pervert! He's nailed everyone, and you still won't believe me. You're as bad as he is!' Jake leaned close to Danny, whispered, 'Time to die,' and squeezed Danny's throat with all his might. Danny gasped, lashed out, but it was no good. Jake wasn't going to let up for anyth–

'Hey!'

Jake turned quickly to where the voice had come from. Bloody, bruised, and broken, Kelly stood ten feet away, legs drawn apart with a weapon pointed straight at him.

'What the–' was all Jake could say before Kelly interrupted him and had her big moment. 

'You forgot, Jake. To a hammer, everything is a nail.'

'I thought you were dea–'

Jake never finished his sentence; Kelly pulled the trigger of the nail gun. Her aim was dead on. A nail fired from its end with a high-powered 'Psssssussshhhh!' and shot straight between Jake's open lips, slipped between his teeth, and embedded itself at the back of his throat.

Jake gasped in shock, eyes bulging, as he let go of Danny and reached to the blood squirting from the back of his neck. The nail had punctured straight through.

Jake made a gurgling, gasping sound and tried to stagger away. Kelly opened up with more bursts from the nail gun.

'Psssssussshhhh! Psssssussshhhh! Psssssussshhhh!'

Three more nails flew from the nail gun, two puncturing Jake's throat, one bursting his right eye. Ocular fluid and blood flooded down his features as he staggered to a metallic flue that chugged smoke from the fire below. Kelly kept her finger on the trigger and unloaded everything the nail gun had.

Psssssussshhhh! Psssssussshhhh! Psssssussshhhh!'

Psssssussshhhh! Psssssussshhhh! Psssssussshhhh!'

Nails struck Jake's midsection, chest, and limbs, entering his body and pushing out the back, pinning him to the flue in small bursts of blood. He tried to say something but only mouthed, gurgling pain. Death wrapped its leathery bat wings around him and swept him to his special corner of hell.

Jake was dead.

Anyone who witnessed anything she might have done was dead, too. No more Ally, Julie, Gretchen, and Ginger. And especially no more Freddie.

Danny was all hers now.

She felt like cheering and acknowledging the live studio audience in her head as they went berserk. Their cheers were louder when Zack cruised through the classroom door on Saved by the Bell.

She had done it. She'd won!

Kelly gave a look over her shoulder. On the other side of the building, the sinister specter of her mother nodded with approval. Kelly was so happy she could explode into a flurry of bursting fireworks.

I've done it! I've really done it!

She ran over to Danny on the floor, knelt by him, and wrapped her arms around him.

'It's all over, Danny. It's all over!' she said dramatically.

'The others,' Danny gasped, catching his breath.

Kelly forced tears to sit in the side of her eyes. 'They're dead, Danny! They're all dead! The girls, the principal…' She sucked back fake tears; her lips quivered. 'He got my parents, Danny! He got 'em both!'

'W-what?'

'It's true what Jake said,' she sobbed.

'N-No,' Danny coughed. 'No, it can't be.'

'It's true! Freddie did it!' Kelly wailed. 'Our friend, Freddie!'

'No … he wouldn't do that …'

'It's just like Jake said. He nailed everyone! He killed them all. He was sick for you, Danny! He was obsessed! He wanted you all to himself! But that's not how it was supposed to be, so he tried to get rid of us all! Look at my face! Look at my injuries! He tried to kill me! But I stopped him, just like I stopped Jake!'

'Stopped him? H-how?'

He got Gretchen and Ginger, then chased me to the boiler room. I managed to incapacitate him – stop him. He kicked out a gas pipe during the fight, and the entire place went up. Kabluey!'

'You killed him?' Danny gasped.

'I had to! It was either him or me! I was going to be his next victim! But I got him, Danny! I got him for us!'

'No … that can't be right … it makes no sense.'

'That's how it happened!' Kelly blubbed. 'I did it … I did it because I love you, Danny!'

'No … No! I loved Freddie; he wouldn't do that!'

Kelly shook her head as tears welled in Danny's eyes.

'It's all true, Danny. It's all true!'

'No …' a pained voice behind Kelly groaned. 'It's not.'

A sick feeling dropped straight through Kelly. She knew that voice.

Freddie.

Kelly turned to look at the invisible camera crew she envisioned filming her every move and broke the fourth wall to her own life.

'He's alive, isn't he? Oh, fudge sticks!'

Chapter 33

Freddie had managed to escape the boiler room, but not before the explosion had caught him with its clawing flames. His clothes were black from burning; half his hair was singed to nubs. But he'd managed to slam the boiler room door shut as the gas caught, causing the awesome blast. He'd been thrown backward, the door splitting from its hinges like a makeshift shield. As he landed on his back and flames shot overhead, he held the door over him and crawled backward from the lashing heat. Energy low from the blood loss, he pulled forward, not wanting to lose – not wanting to give up. Not wanting Kelly to win. Wanting to be with Danny again. The door had become hotter and hotter, igniting on the other side as he tried to escape. He'd reached the first-floor door that led to the stairs and stumbled through them to make it to the roof. And here he was, bloody, burnt, missing a thumb. Ready to let the truth be known.

'She did it, Danny,' Freddie coughed. 'She's crazy. She killed them all.'

Freddie fell to his knees, exhausted, then dropped onto his side with a gasp.

'Freddie!' Danny cried and pushed Kelly to one side.

Kelly's face fell in disgust. 'Don't believe him, Danny! Get away from him! He's the crazy one! He killed them all! I'm a Silver Lake Lakers cheerleader! I wouldn't hurt a fly! I couldn't kill anyone!'

Jake jerked to life – still pinned to the flue – and, with a death shudder, spewed a burst of blood from his lips before withering away.

'Well,' Kelly shrugged, 'no one that didn't deserve it.'

Danny cradled Freddie, tears in his eyes. He grimaced at his hand with the sawn-off thumb. 'She did this?' Danny said.

'N-no,' Freddie replied weakly. 'She handcuffed me … I did it; I had to escape.'

'He's delirious!' Kelly cried as Danny stood and gave Kelly a death glare. The cogs in Kelly's mind visibly turned; she was a rat in a maze with nowhere else to turn. 'It was Jake! Jake must have done it!' she cried. 'Yeah! That makes sense! Freddie's been sleeping with Jake! They were both in on it!'

Kelly stepped backward from Danny's fixed gaze. Christie appeared next to her. 'Not good, dweeb breath. I think a get well soon card from an undertaker would be more believable.'

'You gotta believe me!' Kelly cried. 'I love you, Danny! We're supposed to be together! That's how it works! I'm the head cheerleader! You're the head of the football team! That's how things work in reality! Just like Saved by the Bell!'

'I love him,' Danny said, pointing down at Freddie. 'I love him. Not you. Him.'

'That ain't right! It ain't natural! It's not the way it's supposed to be! It's not perfect!'

'It is perfect, Kelly.' Rage was coursing through Danny, and he slowly stepped closer.

'It's all wrong!' Kelly wailed. 'You're just trying to make me feel like some homophobe because I don't think two guys should be together!'

'You are a homophobe!' Danny shouted.

Tears started to fall down her cheeks, and she wailed, 'That's not perfect!' Kelly started to twitch as she balled, the crossed wires in her brain short-circuiting. 'What would Kapowski think of me! What would Mr. B think! If Danny didn't want me, what chance would I have with Zack!'

'Kelly …' Danny stepped close to Kelly. 'I think you need help …'

'No! I killed them all to keep your secret! So I could straighten you out. So I could make you all man again!'

'It's not a secret anymore!' Danny cried. 'I don't need straightening out! I'm gay! Gay! What don't you understand!'

'Ding-dong!'

Christie pulled her right pigtail.

Kelly pulled her right pigtail.

'You've been rumbled, kid. It's the end of the line. The best you can do is self-preservation,' Christie hissed. 'Do what I couldn't do, Kelly! Get away with it! Live! Livveeeee!'

Kelly reached around her back and pulled the .45 from the waistband of her cheer skirt.

'I love you, Danny. You big gay clod!' She pointed the gun at Danny, who stopped dead in his tracks. 'If I can't have you, then no one can! The only thing left is my reputation as being perfect, and I won't lose that.' Spittle flew from Kelly's mouth with every crazed word. 'My mamma told me it's the most important thing in the world, and I'm not going to lose that because your burned-up boyfriend called me a killer!'

'Don't,' Danny said, raising his hands. A galaxy of embers floated up around Kelly as the school burnt below. In the distance, sirens came racing closer. Kelly became panicked, twitchy.

'Do it!' Christie's bloody ghost demanded.

Kelly put a hand to her aching head. 'I loved you when you were straight, Danny, now you're a gay … that's just not perfect …' She cocked the gun and took aim.

'I was always gay, Kelly. Nothing ever changed.' Danny said.

Freddie stirred at Danny's feet and weakly reached out in a feeble attempt to make everything stop happening the way it was. Kelly's face crumpled at Freddie. 'It was all his fault …' she mumbled. Her mouth fell open wide, teeth exposed in a hellish gaping grin. She began to moan in a deep demonic voice. 'His fault … his fault … he was the one who wasn't perfect!'  Kelly swung the gun from Danny to Freddie.

'No!' Danny cried, falling to his knees, covering Freddie, and using his body as a shield.

'Not perfecttttttt!' Kelly cried.

The gun went off.

The explosion echoed out.

No bullet punctured Danny or Freddie.

The ammo got wet when Ginger tossed the gun in the fish tank.

The gun had fired.

Backfired.

'Agggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!'

Kelly's right hand had been blown to smithereens. Bone and pulpy gore sprayed in the air as all five of her digits erupted from her palm. The gun hit the shingled roof with a dull blat.

'You stupid girl!' Christie's bloody ghost screamed.

Quivering in pain, Kelly cried. 'Stumps aren't perfect! I'm a lousy cripple!'

Kelly held her newly amputated wrist forward, backing away from it as if she could avoid her missing appendage.

'No! No!' she cried. 'Not perfect! Not perfectttttt!'

Kelly kept stumbling backward, Christie screaming over and over. 'I told you what to do! You should have listened to me! I told you the way to do it! No mercy! No surrender! You dumbbell, dweeb breath!'

Kelly stumbled until there was no more roof to stumble upon, only the plunge to the ground below.

Kelly let out a blood-curdling scream as she fell from the roof.

'Kelly!' Danny cried. Tears welled in his eyes from the whole horrible experience.

Kelly fell, arms and legs sprawling out for something to save her. Something did break her fall: the school flagpole. As the thick metal pole skewed her stomach with a foul crunch, blood spewed from Kelly's lips. A gory lump of meat flew out as she was impaled on its tip. Her blood dripped down and lubed the pole, and with the help of gravity, she began to slide. But she didn't just slide; she spun. Faster and faster, around and around. The world became a blurred carousel of police, fire truck sirens, and the burning school, all tumbling over and over. It was her last big cheer routine, her last moment in the spotlight as the cops and firefighters watched her skewered body corkscrew to the ground. In her mind, the live studio audience's applause became deafening. What an ending! What a finale! Gored out and gliding down, pigtails flung out like devil horns. Finally, Kelly hit the ground with a cold thud, the flagpole erected from within her.

'Corn nuts …' she said in a gargle of blood.

Suddenly, sparks erupted from the electric winch mechanism that controlled the flag. Old Glory pulled through Kelly's guts; she gasped in pain as the flag rose up the flagpole. The stars and stripes covered in Kelly's bright red blood flapped and unfurled. The cops and firefighters watched as it rose with a background of moonlight and lapping flames. Danny helped Freddie limp to the edge of the school roof to look down. The stars and stripes flapped, blood-soaked and dripping in the night wind.

Kelly raised her head and stared at the sight. She brought her one good hand up to her brow and saluted it. It was only then, impaled and dying, as death's skeletal hands squeezed any life left from her, that her brain correctly connected, and she understood everything. Her words from earlier echoed in her mind:

'American is about being accepted for who and what you are. That's why America is the most perfect country in the world! You can be anyone and anything. God bless America!'

She was the one who wasn't perfect.

Danny and Freddie could be in love. Danny and Freddie could do whatever they damn wanted.

Her hand fell from the salute, and Kelly looked to one side.

Her dead mom's ghost stood watching her, still and silent.

'You were wrong, mamma,' Kelly said. 'We were both so wrong.'

Christie's ghost slowly faded away.

Kelly went limp as death had its way with her.

Ding-dong! The bitch is dead.

Freddie and Danny cried from above, holding each other.

'I love you,' Danny told Freddie. 'Everything will be all right.'

Freddie coughed and hugged Danny.

'I love you too.' He told Danny back.

Their lips met as the blood-stained flag flapped and flipped in front of them.

THE END.

David Irons was the kid who went to his room to watch and read horror when his relatives came around. It paid off. When he left his room, he became an award-winning filmmaker and writer living on the south coast of England. His films, colorful and stylish in design, have won awards at the Cambridge Film Festival, Las Vegas VIFF Festival, and LA Independent Festival for cinematography, editing, writing, and directing. '7 Winters Alone' - a sci-fi, horror short - was a winner in David Lynch's 2014 Short Film Competition.

In 2019, David published his first novel, Night Waves, followed by Night Creepers, Polybius, and The Bloody Tracks of Bigfoot in 2020 - 2021 from Severed Press. Since then, David has become a Splatterpunk award-nominated writer for his '80s summer camp slasher, 'Don't Go To Wheelchair Camp.'

The moral of this story is to be weird and stay in your room. It pays off in the end.

Read more of David's work here:

www.davidironswriter.com/books

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