Quinn's Code (Daria AU) 12: Stacy the Brain - Part 1

[fardell24]

Quinn's Code 12: Stacy the Brain
Thursday, March 9, 2006
Lawndale
Lawndale High
Mr. Timothy O'Neil was handing out graded essays. “Now, as I'm handing back your essays, you may have strong feelings about the competitive and discouraging aspects of grading,” he said. He gave reassuring looks to each of the students.

Once he finished he went back to his desk and said. “I care about what you have to say. Who would like to start?”

Jamie White raised his hand. “Is an F+ the same as a D-?” he asked, wondering what the answer would be.

“I don't believe I've ever heard of an F+, Jordan, but we can talk about it,” O'Neil said. He wanted to reassure him.

“OK,” Jamie said.

“I think you failed,” his friend Jeffy Brown said.


“Eggplant! I thought he said eggshell!” Stacy said to the girl beside her.

“That must have been confusing,” the girl said.

Stacy nodded.

The teacher then said, “Stacy? Was there something you wanted to say?”

Stacy looked at her table and the tables nearby to ensure that she wasn't mistaken. “Um, I didn't get my essay back,” she said, her heart racing.

“That's true, Stacy. I'm afraid I need to see you after class.”

“That's true, Stacy. I'm afraid I need to see you after class,”

“Oh, OK,” Stacy said, breathing heavily, and her heart beating faster.

“Relax!” the girl beside her said, reassuringly.

Stacy closed her eyes and breathed deep breaths.

“Oh, dear!” Mr. O'Neill said.

“I'm fine,” Stacy said.


After class Stacy walked up to the front of the classroom with trepidation.

“Stacy, I'm so sorry, but we need to talk about your performance,” Mr. O'Neil said.
“OK...” Stacy said in a slight panic, although slightly less than earlier.

“Let's go over our last assignment, "How I feel about polyculturalism." You wrote, a few lines about various clothing that people wear around the world.”

“I didn't copy it! I know plagiarism is bad.”

“No, no, I believe you. The thing is... now I don't want to panic or upset you -- please, take this in a constructive spirit -- but I'm afraid you're not doing well in Language Arts.”

“I'm not!” Stacy started breathing harder. “How badly?”

“Well... You're going to have to get an A on your next essay to maintain a passing grade!” the teacher said in concern.

“Oh, G. Oh G.!” Stacy then broke down in tears.

“I'm a failure! And now I'll have to repeat freshman year!”

“You can do it, Stacy! You know, when I was in high school, I wanted more than anything to be on the high school gymnastic team, but I just couldn't master the high bar. So I practiced every day...” Mr. O'Neill said, before being intrrupted.


Stacy didn't want to hear about Mr. O'Neil's story in her distress (or at all, but especially in her distress.)

“No! Mr. O'Neill!” Stacy said as she ran off.

“Stacy, Wait!”

But Stacy left the classroom.

“Oh dear!” He went back to his desk. 'She didn't take that too well,' he thought. He took a notepad out of his desk and began to draft a letter to her parents.



Friday, March 10, 2006
Stacy arrived home from school, on time, as usual for a Friday.

“Anastasia! Is that you?” her mother called from the kitchen.

“Eep!”

“Come here.”

Stacy went to the kitchen. Her mother showed her a letter. “This came from school. Your teacher says that you're failing Language Arts. Why didn't you tell me?” Her expression was such that Stacy saw that she wanted an answer, pronto.

“I didn't know that it was so bad! Mr. O'Neil didn't tell me anything until yesterday,” Stacy answered, her head lowered.

“I see. That Ms. Li has too much security fever on her brain to see that her teachers are incompetent.”

“I'm a failure!” Stacy cried. “I'm not going to get anywhere in life!”

Her mother didn't like that! “Anastasia! Don't say that. Stop putting yourself down. You will complete that essay, hand it in and get an A. No dates, tonight or this weekend. And no phone calls to that Sandi. It appears that she's a bad influence.”

Yes, Mom,” Stacy said as she tried to put on a brave face.

“But right now, you're going to help me make dinner...”

“Sure,” Stacy said, as her mother opened one of the kitchen cupboards. “What are we making?” she asked.

“Some bolognaise.”

Stacy nodded.


Later that night. Stacy began to write her essay. “Now, what does Mr. O'Neil want for this essay?” Stacy's mother asked.

Stacy read from the top of the paper. “Express your feelings about school.”

“OK, start with what school is supposed to be like, and then write down your feelings in a way that O'Neill would like.”

“Okay.”

Stacy began by writing the title and her name.

Academic Imprisonment
By Anastasia 'Stacy' Rowe

“Academic Imprisonment?”

“It does feel like a prison!” Stacy said.

'I guess that impression would be accurate in this time of stress,' Elizabeth Rowe thought.

As Stacy began writing the essay she placed a few dots at the beginning.

We...

“Well?” her mother asked.

“I've started!” Stacy retorted.

“Well?” her mother asked.
…


By the end of the night, with repeated encouragement from her mother, Stacy had finished the introduction.



Monday, March 13, 2006
Stacy approached the Language Arts classroom with a great deal of trepidation. 'What if it's not good enough,' she thought, not for the first time.

She paused at the door. After a few seconds she had gathered up the confidence to enter. “Mr. O'Neill?”

“Stacy?”

“Here's the essay,” she said as she handed it in and avoiding eye contact with him.

“Thanks, Stacy,” the teacher said, but she was already on her way to the back of the class. 'I hope this is good enough!' he thought.


For the rest of the day, Stacy worried about weather it was good enough. As soon as school let out, she did something she didn't usually do. She took the bus home, knowing that it would be quicker than if she had walked, or ran.


Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Once again the Freshman Language Arts class was in session. “I have a special surprise everyone. One of our students has so improved since last week's essay, I'm going to share her work with the class,” Mr. O'Neill said.

Stacy didn't take much notice, until Mr. O'Neill said her name. “Stacy?”

“I didn't get my essay back,” she said in trepidation. She wondered if Mr. O'Neill was going to say the words she had dreaded since last Friday.

“That's right, Stacy, because I'm going to read it aloud!”

“Oh no!”

“Academic Imprisonment, by Anastasia Rowe...”

Stacy slid down in her seat as far as she could go.


After class... “Sta-cy! I am shocked and dismayed, for a member of the Fashion Club to have a such a high mark...”

“But, Sandi...”

Sandi interrupted. “No buts,”

“...I needed the high mark to maintain a passing grade for freshman year!” She hoped that Sandi would believe her.

Her hopes failed; “I doubt that, Stacy. You're on sabbatical”

“No, Sandi!”

“Yes, you are, until you get your priorities straight.”


Unknown to Sandi, she was overheard, down the hall by three other freshmen, Quinn Morgendorffer, Cindy Brolsma and Kristen Leung-Bell.


“Did you hear that, Quinn?” Cindy asked.

“Yes,” Quinn answered. “It doesn't sound good!”

“How does Sandi think she could get away with that?” Kristen asked, shaking her head.

“I don't know, but Stacy sounds like she's nearly had enough of it!” Quinn added.

“So, we should keep an eye on the situation?” Cindy asked.

“I agree,” Quinn said.

Kristen nodded.



Wednesday, March 15, 2006
In Homeroom, Quinn grabbed a copy of the Lawndale Lowdown, the School Paper. She was surprised to see Stacy's essay in it. 'Why would Mr. O'Neil put it in the School Paper?' she wondered. She knew that something was going to come of it, but she wasn't sure what.


In her own Homeroom, Stacy opened the Lawndale Lowdown and almost fainted to see her essay in there. 'Why, Mr. O'Niell, why?' She started breathing heavily. Soon she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She jumped. She turned and saw that it was Kristen.

“Are you OK?” Kristen asked. Her voice showed concern.

“Yes,” Stacy answered.

Kristen gave a look of sympathy.
“No!” Stacy said, changing her answer.

“What's wrong?”

Stacy sighed. “It's Sandi! She didn't like that I got an A for the essay, notwithstanding that I needed it to maintain a passing grade! But now...” she trailed off.

“You're afraid that she's going to yell at you?” Kristen asked.

“It's not just that, but what she might be yelling.”

“I see,” Kristen responded.She knew what Stacy meant.

“I don't know what to do!” Stacy said.

“We have the same class next. I'll come with you to there,” Kristen offered.

“That would be great! Thanks!” Stacy then gave Kristen a hug.

“Um, don't mention it...”


Stacy's fears were well founded. Sandi had also seen the essay in the paper. Bad enough that Quinn, despite her Geek status, was still as popular as ever, but now Stacy's popularity was in the ascendancy (not that she would ever admitt to anyone that she knew that word)!
The first person from the Fashion Club she met after leaving Homeroom in a huff was Tori. “You have seen the Lowdown,” she stated.

“Yes!”

“It's not her fault!” Tori said.

“Oh, really?”

“I'm sure Mr. O'Neil is the one who actually put it in the paper.”

“I don't care!”

“Please, don't be too rough on Stacy!” Tori said, with a slight begging tone. Sandi just continued walking towards class.


The first class of the day for the freshmen was Math. The teacher was not yet in attendence when Stacy arrived with Kristen, with Cindy and Quinn close behind. Nor was Sandi.

But not for long, Sandi, Tori and Tiffany approached the classroom from the opposite direction. Sandi brandished a copy of the Lowdown that she had taken off an unfortunate member of the football team. She marched up to Stacy, opened the paper to the poem and asked; “Sta-cy! What is the meaning of this?”

Stacy stammered. “Mr Mr. O'Neil put it in. I didn't!”
“School isn't a prison! It's an opportunity!”

“What kind of opportunity? To drag others down?” Quinn asked.

“Stay out of this Geekendorffer!” Sandi said.

“It depends on one's point of view,” Stacy said quietly.

“I see. However, you failed, like, to stop Mr. O'Neill putting the essay in the paper. I'm putting you on sabbatical from the Fashion Club!”

“No, Sandi, no!” Stacy begged.
Sandi pushed her away, roughly.

“Leave her alone!” Quinn called. She stepped next to Stacy and helped her out.

“Stay out of this, Geekendorffer!” Sandi said glaring in Quinn's eyes.

“No!”

Sandi stepped forwards, and pushed Quinn away. Quinn pushed back. It was then that Sandi pulled a punch, and sent Quinn spawling.

'Uh oh!' Tori thought, as Quinn stood up again. She got ready to pull Sandi back if need be.
Quinn then rushed at Sandi. “How dare you!” She said, as she slapped Sandi across the face, using less force than was used against her.

Sandi then lost it. She lunged at Quinn.. The two tusselled, stratching (Sandi more than Quinn, wanting to marr those looks) and pulling hair (moreso Quinn pulling.Sandi's rather than the other way around, due to the extreme shortness of Quinn's hair).

This didn't last long before Tori pulled Sandi away from Quinn, and Kristen pulled Quinn away from Sandi.

“Well, well, what is this about?” Somehow Mr. Anthony DeMartino, head history teacher, had been passing by.

“Sandi attacked Quinn!” Cindy said.

“Not true!” Sandi said, struggling against Tori's hold.

“So, true!” Quinn said, relaxing. “She attacked me! I was defending myself!”

“That's not quite true,” Cindy said.

“Cindy?” Quinn asked.

“You didn't need to slap her back,” Cindy said, quietly.

“I guess so,” Quinn said, equally as quietly. She turned to DeMartino. “Sandi has it in for me!” she said.
“And also for Stacy, due to her essay,” Kristen added.

Stacy nodded.

DeMartino glared at Sandi using his right eye. “Yes! I have observed Sandi disliking Quinn! I also remember the debate at the Coffee House.”

Kristen spoke up again, telling Mr. DeMartino the sequence of events that lead to the fight.

“Thank you, Ms. Leung-Bell. That was quite illuminating.”

“What now?” Quinn asked quietly.

“Ms. Li has to know about this!”