"You know why you're here, Jenny," Wendy squeaked, not looking up. "The list. You had a hand in it".
As school let out, the mountain air turned biting. Jenny began the walk home, passing the local cemetery where the "Goth Kids" sat, drinking coffee and smoking, complaining about the inherent "pain" of existence. Normally, she ignored them, but today their nihilism felt almost refreshing compared to the petty drama of the popularity polls. jenny simons
Jenny sighed. "The List" had become the town’s latest obsession—a ranking of every boy in class from most to least attractive. She had been part of the committee, sitting in the back of the room with Bebe and Lola, nodding along as they debated the merits of various fourth-graders. At the time, it felt like a game. Now, seeing Kyle Broflovski standing near the lockers, looking like he’d just been told his favorite video game was canceled, the "game" felt a lot heavier. "You know why you're here, Jenny," Wendy squeaked,