Since eighth grade started, Navya, Ashley, and Bea have been my closest friends. They’re not in honors either, but Navya is the best lacrosse player on the team, Bea is so talented at art she gets fifty dollars a day face-painting at birthday parties, and Ashley has a pool and a hot tub. They like hanging out with me because I’m funny.
That’s pretty much all anyone needs to know about what my life was like before I saw Olivia getting dress coded in the Kindness Garden while Pearl stood there holding a pair of Pink sweatpants.
Oh, I did want to mention my brother, Danny, has been sucking up all my parents’ energy, because he’s addicted to vaping. In their free time, my parents enjoy searching Danny’s room and backpack, hiding their cash so Danny can’t take it to buy pods, and calling doctors to ask how long it will be before Danny gets popcorn lung and dies.
I know at least twenty kids in the eighth grade who have gotten vaping pods from Danny.
That’s how he gets his cash.
He doesn’t need Mom and Dad’s money.
LETTER TO PARENTS
Dear FMS Parents:
It is with deep regret that I write to inform you our camping trip to Strawberry Hill State Park has been canceled. As you will recall, I sent out a letter on February 25 promising a wonderful trip if our eighth graders simply followed the dress code outlined in the student handbook. For the better part of the semester, your children have done a fantastic job. Recently, however, a student violated the dress code and after we gave her ample opportunity to comply, she refused. Unfortunately, rules are rules.
In an effort to provide a safe, distraction-free learning environment, we encourage your children to continue following the policy stated in our FMS handbook. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused your family.
Sincerely,
Jim Couchman, EdD
WILL’S TEXTS
My best friend Will texts me: I hate camping, but that was messed up. I thought Olivia was normal.
Will is my neighbor. Our backyards touch, and our dads built the tree house when we were eight and inseparable. I barely see him anymore because he’s addicted to some video game I’ve never heard of and because our parents don’t hang out as much since my mom is stressed-out about Danny.
Our moms always say, “If you two don’t manage to get prom dates, you can always go together.” They’ve been saying this since back when Will and I routinely wrestled each other to the ground over a sippy cup full of Goldfish.
“It’s not like when you went to the prom,” I tell my mom. “Nobody cares. I may go with a boy, or a girl, or a group.”
That’s when she tilts her head a little and rests her hand on my leg and says, “Are you bisexual, Molly? Because that’s totally and completely fine.”
“Where did you get ‘Are you bisexual?’ from ‘I may or may not have a date to the prom’?” I ask.
We’ve had this conversation at least five times.
I text Will back. What is that supposed to mean? How is Olivia not normal?
Will replies, If she were normal she wouldn’t be trying to get attention.
I’m too angry to reply.
DRESS CODED: A PODCAST
EPISODE ONE (TAKE TWO)
“Why don’t we try a different approach this time? I’ll give a little background, and then I’ll ask you questions and you can just answer them.”
“That works,” Olivia says, leaning back against the exposed tree trunk.
ME: Hello, Fisher Middle School and beyond. My name is Molly Frost, and this is Dress Coded: A Podcast. I’m here with Olivia. She was recently yelled at for wearing a tank top at school. As many of you know, back in February, Fisher Middle School administrators made an agreement with the eighth grade. If we could go the rest of the school year without anyone getting dress coded, Dr. Couchman would take us on a camping trip to Strawberry Hill State Park. So after he humiliated Olivia, Dr. Couchman announced that the camping trip was canceled because a young lady had decided to selfishly violate the dress code. One of our classmates (you know who you are, Jack Reese) overheard Dr. Couchman talking to Mrs. Peabody about it and told the whole school Olivia was the one who ruined our camping trip.
I pause the recorder and look at Olivia. She gives me a thumbs-up.
ME: I am here to tell you there are two sides to every story, and I, as a witness to the event, believe Olivia should be able to tell hers. So I have invited her to join me here today.
We hear a creaking noise, and I pause the recorder again. It’s Pearl pushing on the hatch door of the tree house. “Where were you?” I ask.
“Tennis,” she says. She takes a seat next to Olivia and picks up a ginger cookie. I wanted to make Olivia comfortable for the second take, so I cleaned the tree house, put a few more pillows around to warm it up, and brought up some cookies and glasses of lemonade with our new stainless-steel straws.
I press my finger to my lips, because I can tell Pearl is about to start talking.
ME: Olivia, welcome and thank you for agreeing to take part in Dress Coded: A Podcast. Before you tell us what happened, maybe you could give us a little background. Have you ever been dress coded before?
OLIVIA: Yes. Fingertip has given me a bunch of warnings, and Miss Wells dress coded me last year because my gym shorts were too short.
ME: Not surprising. And what happened?
OLIVIA: She pulled me over and told me to go to the office, and I asked if I could just go change into my regular shorts, and she said fine but told me not to wear those gym shorts again.
ME: And how did that make you feel?
OLIVIA: Annoyed, because it started pouring when we were running on the track and I had to walk around the rest of the day in soggy shorts.
ME: That’s the worst. I’m sorry you had to deal with that. So other than dealing with dress coding, how do you feel about school?
OLIVIA: Pretty neutral. I’m trying to focus on science, because I’m going to a STEM camp this summer.
ME: Oh, that’s cool. Okay, let’s get right to it. I’ve invited another witness to join us. Say hi, Pearl.
PEARL: Hi.
ME: Pearl will comment later in the podcast. But first, would you like to tell us what happened, Olivia?
Olivia takes a deep breath and pulls a cookie apart, dropping crumbs all over the pink plastic table my cousin Shannon gave us after Dad built the tree house.