Another teammate, Madison Price, tried to stay neutral.
Neutrality became harder.
Lauren started asking whether people thought Naomi was “scary.” Madison laughed the first time because the idea seemed absurd.
Naomi was five-foot-six, carried books everywhere, and apologized to chairs when she bumped into them.
Lauren did not laugh.
“I’m serious.”
Madison asked why.
“You can tell she wants to hit somebody.”
Madison stared. “She’s never fought anybody.”
“Exactly.”
“That makes no sense.”
Lauren changed the subject.
Madison remembered the conversation later.
March brought an incident inside the girls’ restroom near the gym. The bathroom had pale turquoise tile, several sinks along one wall, tan stall doors, and fluorescent lighting that made everyone look tired.
Cheerleaders often used it before home games because it was close to the auxiliary gym. Over time, some members started acting as though the room unofficially belonged to the team during preparation.
Naomi walked in one afternoon to wash ink from her hands after helping the newspaper staff print posters. Lauren, Kara, and two other cheerleaders were fixing hair and makeup.
Kara looked toward Naomi. “We’re getting ready in here.”
Naomi turned on the sink. “Okay.”
Lauren stared at her through the mirror.
“We need the space.”
“There are six sinks.”
“You can use the bathroom by the library.”
Naomi looked over.
“This is a school bathroom.”
Lauren smiled. “Nobody said it wasn’t.”
“Then what are we talking about?”
Lauren said the cheer team needed room before the game.
Naomi dried her hands.
“You do not get to reserve a bathroom.”
The room went quiet.
Lauren muttered, “Always has to make a point.”
Naomi turned. “You started the conversation.”
Kara laughed nervously.
Naomi left.
The next day, somebody taped a handwritten sign to the bathroom door:
CHEER ONLY 3:00–5:00.
There was no official logo.
Assistant Principal Webb removed it.
He asked Coach Ross whether she had authorized anything. She had not.
Ross confronted the team.
Nobody admitted making the sign.
Lauren said people were turning a joke into a federal case.
Naomi had not reported the sign.
A custodian did.
Still, Lauren told friends Naomi had complained.
That false claim mattered.
Each time the school acted independently, Lauren inserted Naomi as the cause.
By early April, students had begun calling the conflict the Naomi-Lauren thing, a phrase Naomi hated because it implied two equal participants generating drama.
She told Ariana that she wanted one month of school where nobody connected her name to Lauren’s.
Ariana said graduation was eight weeks away.
“We can survive eight weeks.”
Naomi looked at her.
“That is a terrible standard.”
Ariana nodded.
“You’re right.”
The next escalation involved a missing phone.
Cheer practice had ended. Kara could not find her iPhone.
Someone remembered Naomi had entered the gym hallway to deliver newspaper proofs to Coach Ross.
Lauren immediately said, “Are we seriously doing this again?”
Kara looked confused. “Doing what?”
Lauren said maybe people should check who had been around.
Emily snapped.