Free The Yearbook Committee by Sarah Ayoub

something that’s not going to make me happy will haunt me ,’ I tell him. ‘I want to be like you; please just accept that.’
    â€˜I don’t have to accept anything,’ he tells me, rising from his chair. ‘I’m your father, and there’s no way that I will support you in this. And if you’re going to fight and threaten me, I’m going to remind you what you’re dealing with.’
    â€˜What’s that supposed to mean?’ I ask.
    â€˜It means that the policing world is a small one. All it takes is the drop of a name to fast-track an application, or send it to the bottom of the pile.’
    â€˜You wouldn’t do that,’ I whisper, stunned. ‘It goes against all your principles.’
    â€˜Every cop out there who has seen what I’ve seen will agree with me, Tamara,’ he says. ‘Even with their principles.’
    I glare at him. ‘I can’t believe you would do this to me. I have no other options.’
    â€˜Yes, you do — lots of them,’ he says. ‘Just not policing.’
    â€˜Fine! I’ll take up prostitution,’ I yell, walking out of the room.
    â€˜Great,’ he yells back. ‘I can put you in touch with a few madams who own premises on my beat!’
    I slam my bedroom door angrily, my eyes filling up with tears.
    David, Lauren, Dad . . . Why do I keep letting everyone walk all over me? And why am I so powerless to stop them?

Gillian
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Gillian Cummings When you see your best friend in a shoot with Karlie Kloss on Insta #bowdown #SylvanaDarrar #yougogirl
    â€˜I showed Charlie how to use the stupid camera,’ Matty tells me in Maths. ‘Do you want to know what she said?’
    I bite my lip, not sure if I’m supposed to answer.
    â€˜She said, “Great, now I have no excuse for getting out of this crap.” The chick’s messed up.’
    My face reddens.
    He gives me a look that says ‘I told you so’, then opens up his textbook.
    I don’t know what to say, so I open mine too and wonder why algebra makes more sense than my own life.

    I decide to corner Charlie at lunch. She’s sitting under a tree, her head buried in a laptop.
    I stand in front of her for a few minutes, and she finally rollsher eyes, pulls her headphones out of her ears and gives me a look that is all attitude.
    â€˜Matty says he showed you how to use the camera,’ I say.
    She nods, then turns her laptop towards me. ‘Do you mind? I really want to watch this.’
    I fold my arms, purse my lips and try to match her, attitude for attitude.
    â€˜Nothing exciting happens. It goes into some convoluted storyline and someone comes back from the dead. In three more episodes you’ll start to wonder why you’re watching it.’
    She death-stares me. ‘Did you come here to ruin it for me?’
    I shrug. ‘No, I came to ask if you need help taking photos. I can go with you to events and stuff.’
    â€˜I don’t need friends,’ she says to me, as if she’s doing me a favour by freeing up my time.
    â€˜This isn’t about friendship; this is about our yearbook.’
    She looks at me as if I’m the biggest loser that ever walked the earth. I start to feel like maybe I am.
    â€˜Why are you so keen to work on this stupid yearbook?’ she asks. ‘You heard Matty. No one else even cares.’
    â€˜I think I’ll like it,’ I admit. ‘Maybe I’ll remember the good times.’
    â€˜Can I give you some advice?’ she says. ‘You’re at this school because you have to be. You didn’t choose this. What comes after — that’s what you choose, that’s when the real good times will begin. This is all fake, forced . . . for show.’
    I swallow, and look across the playground.
    She closes her laptop. ‘Fine,’ she says, after a moment. ‘Maybe I could use some help.