The bell rang for lunch, and I groaned. It’s time for torture, I thought. As usual, I was going to have to sit alone while the mean girls swarmed around me like bees, making rude comments about my hair, clothes, and any other minor details they have noticed about me recently. Sometimes, I just wish I could eat lunch in the science classroom, talking to Ms. Ralise about Newton’s laws of motion all period. Of course, I could try to muster my minimal amount of courage and stand up to Alice, but the chances are that I will just stutter and she and her group of so-called friends will laugh at me even more. Why couldn’t there be an easier solution to all of this?
“Hey, look at those clothes Lauren is wearing! They make her look like someone from the early 1700s!” I was sitting in the cafeteria while Alice and her posse stared at me and looked my favorite outfit, a cream-colored floor-length dress with frills on the long sleeves and a pleated skirt. I thought it looked nice, but obviously I was the only one who liked that style of clothing. I sighed and reached around my head to pull my light brown hair to one side. I started to comb it with my fingers, the same way I always do when I am nervous. I bit my tongue to keep myself from starting to sob. Why did they always pick on me?
Thankfully, my math teacher, Mrs. Sevalis, spotted me surrounded by all of them. She hurried over. “Girls, I think that’s enough. Can’t you see that Lauren is trying to eat in peace?” She glared at the girls until they finally walked away and Mrs. Sevalis talked to me. “I know their comments can be hurtful, but just try to ignore them. Whenever you start feeling like you will cry, just think about the formula for the area of various two-dimensional shapes. It helps me, and I hope it will help you.”

At dinner, I asked my mother, “How can I stop Alice, Chloe, and Trisha from bullying me? It really hurts me and I want to stop it, but I don’t know how to start.” I looked up from my food. My mother was looking into a mirror and applying more lipstick. She looks even more like Barbie than usual, I thought. Unfortunately, the makeup company that my mother works for gives her free samples of all of their products. This somehow gives her a reason to care more about her makeup than her daughter’s problems at school.
My brother, Adam, was munching on his pasta. He swallowed and said, “Just tell them that they have no right whatsoever to push you around. I can’t see why you have such a problem with them. Standing up to someone who bullies you can’t be all that hard.”
“Because you were never in my situation, you don’t seem to understand what I am going through. You and your group of friends are too scary to bully, anyway,” I shot a response in his direction. “Although you are Mr. Brave, some people are not!” I stood up and left the table, slamming down my knife and fork for good measure. Shaking with the effort to hold back the flood of tears, I ran to my room. I flung myself onto my bed and started weeping until I fell asleep.
The next day was Saturday. I always looked forward to weekends, not only because of the welcome change from the mean girls, but also because I could spend time with my grandmother, Katherine Halasta. She always came to look after us on weekends when our parents ran errands for two hours. She seemed to be my only family member who understood what happened to me at school. Grandma Katherine was bullied at school, and her visits were full of tips on how to get rid of Alice. I have tried all of them, but they have not worked.
While I waited for my grandma to arrive, I started my social studies homework. After a minute, I realized that it was impossible to concentrate on my work. My mind kept going back to Alice’s words. Was my dress really old fashioned? I liked it, so I didn’t understand why she cared.
“Hello,” I heard the front door open and ran downstairs. As usual, my grandma was smiling. “Paul, Gwen, you can go out now!”
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the living room of my house with Grandma Katherine. I was telling her about the girls’ latest taunts. She nodded when I told her how it made me feel. “When I was at school, people told me that I should not wear my hair down. All of the other girls at my school wore theirs in braids. I did not know why they had such a problem with my hair. It just made me feel like I was doing something wrong by wearing my hair loose. I can imagine that you feel very much the same way when they tell you that you look like someone from colonial times. It is not true. Just ignore them and keep wearing those clothes. They look nice on you,” my grandmother told me her stories about her childhood a lot. Today was no exception.

On Monday, I walked into the lunchroom with my head held high. Today, I was determined not to let the girls get to me. I planned to ignore them until they went away.
That just shows how much easier it was to say that I was going to ignore them than to actually do that. As soon as I sat down, Alice came over and started making comments on my hair while the other two laughed behind their hands as usual. Typically, I struggled to hold back tears. “You look hideous in that outfit! Couldn’t your parents get you better clothes, Colonist? What about that hairstyle? It looks too modern to go with your awful skirt!”
That was enough. They had told me I looked like someone from colonial times before, but being called a colonist was too much to bear. I tried to hold back the wave of saltwater building up in my eyes, but, like before, I was unsuccessful. Then, of course, Alice started up again. “Cat got your tongue? Naturally, any cat would want to bite you once it saw your awful, mismatched skirt and clothes!”

I burst into tears right then and there. Gasping with sobs, I sprinted from the lunchroom to the bathroom. Once there, I tried to wash the streaks off my face and took deep breaths to calm down.

I walked to the nurse’s office and said I felt sick. It was not a lie - my head was spinning and I was sure I would not be able to concentrate in any of my classes. She took my temperature, and I saw that I actually did have a fever. She called my grandma to pick me up at once, as she was the only one of my family members that had nothing to do during weekdays at noon.

That night, I slept at Grandma Katherine’s house. I still felt sick and really did not want to go home to questions about why I left school early. She had understood what happened as soon as I told her, and told me to rest and not go to school the next day. I tried to banish Alice from my mind as I slipped away from the real world into sleep.

I woke up and checked the clock. Despite yesterday’s problems, I had managed to dream about something else, and I felt great.

As soon as I fell asleep, I had been transported into a strange house that was dark except for the light above me and a light all the way across the house. I was looking for keys, and it was a scavenger hunt against two men. Grandma Katherine thought they were criminals, so she told me that if I won, we might be able to catch them. Everything worked, and I won. The police caught the criminals. I had bravery that I never would have had in real life. I was willing to stand up to criminals, and when I thought about the fact that I could not even stand up to school bullies, I laughed out loud. I decided that I would try to be the same Lauren Halasta in real life as I had been in the dream. I told my grandmother about this and she helped me figure out how to get rid of the girls.

The next day, I was in fit shape to go back to school again. I had planned how I was going to stand up to them over the course of a week, and I consulted the schedule I had made. Today’s goal was to stop combing through my hair and to sit straight no matter what they said. Alice came over and the usual barrage of snide remarks began. However, today was different. I held my ground and resisted the urge to slouch in my chair and tug my hair. Alice walked away, surprised that I had not seemed to react.

On Thursday, it was time for Phase Two of Operation Bully-Away, as Grandma Katherine and I called it. I needed to start making comebacks when Alice commented on everything. Today, Alice’s focus was on the fact that I never talked back to her. If the plan worked, that would soon change. Alice started pelting me with things like, “Why don’t you ever respond? Are you deaf or are you simply not intelligent enough to talk?”

“Alice, I wouldn’t talk about that if I were you! How about you ask your friends the same question? They never talk. They just snicker behind their hands. They are the dumb ones around here!” My face burned, and if I could see it, it would no doubt be bright red. I did not know what had come over me, but it had worked.

Apparently, Alice did not understand where this sudden burst of courage came from either, because she retreated almost immediately. She muttered to Chloe and Trisha that I was not worth the trouble, and the three of them walked back. I felt like screaming to the world that I had finally gotten rid of them, but I managed to contain my excitement.

On Friday, I was slightly nervous about what I had to do. The plan was going better than my grandmother and I expected it to be. According to her, I might be done with them once and for all if I succeeded today. All that was needed was one big, nasty comment on my part.

Today’s subject was the fact that I had no friends. “Why does no one like you, dork? Is it because the other kids think you spend too much time with boring books and not enough time having fun?” Alice knew that kind of comment was the one that affected me most, and she had obviously tried to use one that I could not ignore because of yesterday’s failed attempt to aggravate me. That would not happen today. I was determined not to let my plan fail.

“Oh, Alice, why do you tease me? You are no better yourself, with your pack of ‘friends’ that only follow you around so that you don’t bully them!”

“What?! Who said that?” Alice turned to Trisha and Chloe. “You don’t follow me around so I won't bully you, do you? Don’t you actually like me?”

For the first time since Alice started teasing me, Trisha spoke up. “It is true. I thought you were nice when I moved here in fifth grade, and when I saw what you did to others, I was afraid to leave because I thought I would be your next target if I did.” Trisha said all of that in one breath, and gasped for air while Alice turned to her. “I’m sorry, Alice,” she murmured. “Please don’t bully me!”

Trisha turned to me. She gulped and said, “Alice was my friend in fifth grade, but she isn’t now. I saw how well you handled her just now, and I would like to be your friend. I think I can speak for Chloe as well when I say that I’m sorry.”

I turned to Chloe to see how she reacted to Trisha’s speech. She was nodding so hard that her face was turning pink. I figured that this meant she agreed with Trisha.

Next, I looked to Alice. Like Chloe, her face was bright red, but her expression was stormy. She turned on her heel and stomped off.

On Monday, I walked over to Trisha and Chloe’s table, and, to my relief, Alice was absent from it. When I asked about it, Chloe told me that she had spoken to Alice over the weekend and Alice had said that she did not want to be friends with them. She pointed across the cafeteria. There, I saw Alice sitting alone, and I almost felt bad for her. Then I remembered the way she had tormented me, and the sympathy was gone.

Everyone got what they deserved. Trisha and Chloe were much nicer to me now, and they became my good friends. Alice continued sitting alone, and I predicted that she would stay that way until she learned to be nicer. School continued to be fun for me, but lunch was no longer torture. From that day on, I had a great time at school.