Authors: Elisa Ludwig
I poked at my salad with my fork and watched Nikki emerge from the cashier line with her lunch. Dread boiled up inside me like a carbonated cocktail of poison.
But she was walking toward us jauntily in her patterned tights and tweed skirt.
And was she … smiling?
“S’up, ladies?” She sat down next to Cherise, and I noticed she was carrying a new purse, which she set down beside her on the floor, careless as ever. “Cherise, are you actually eating that yellowtail? It looked weird to me.”
“You need to get over this mercury obsession,” Cherise said. “Where’s K?”
“She’s still in line with Aidan and Drew. I think they
were coming from gym or something. And it’s not an obsession. I just don’t want to pollute my body.” Nikki shivered at the thought of it.
“You can’t see it, though.” Cherise held up a piece of fish on her fork. “This looks perfectly fine.”
“So you’re basically killing yourself and you don’t even know it.”
Cherise popped the piece into her mouth. “But it’s yum.”
Nikki turned to me. “Willa, where were you this weekend? I tried calling you.”
“Nowhere,” I said, looking up and making eye contact with her for the first time. The whole time they’d been chatting I’d been focusing on my tray. “I mean, I was just home.”
“I felt like you were avoiding me and I really needed to talk to you…”
I swallowed hard, a piece of tomato going down my esophagus like a marble.
Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say right now
.
“… about the French homework. Did you do it?”
Was that it? It couldn’t be, could it?
“Yeah,” I said, trying to mask my disbelief with casual detachment. “It took a while.”
“I hate that book. I’m so over Camus. I really needed your help.”
Stop staring at her like you’re waiting for her to jam her fork into your neck
.
“I’m sorry, Nikki. I wasn’t trying to blow you off,” I said, though that was exactly what I had been doing.
She started forking lettuce into her mouth and I studied her face for any sign of recognition. But there was none. If she’d had any clue whatsoever that she’d lost four hundred dollars—or that I had taken it out of her bag—she didn’t show it.
As I saw it, there were four possible scenarios: (a) She knew but she was a brilliant actress; (b) She was completely oblivious; (c) She was so loaded her wallet had refreshed itself; or (d) Some combination of B and C.
When I looked at her again, Nikki was picking the lobster chunks out of her salad and flicking them onto the floor.
D. It was definitely D.
Kellie approached with her tray, Drew and Aidan close behind her.
“I saved you a seat,” Nikki said, patting the chair next to her.
“Yay. This is the best side of the table for people-watching,” Kellie said. She planted her tray. “And outfit-rating.”
Once I would have found this Kellieism cute, but now I knew what she was really up to. Looking for ways to humiliate people. Pathetic.
Drew sat down across from her. “Is there room for both of us?”
“Sure,” I said generously. I was relieved that more
people were here because more people made me feel less crazy—even if one of them was Aidan, who I was sure was about to make me feel crazy in some other, completely different way. I scooted over, making room for him while smiling broadly in his direction. Like I was truly happy to see him. Which I was. It had been about six days since I’d seen him last. Not that I was really counting. See? Crazy.
“How’s it going?”
He scowled at me, clearly not trusting my welcoming greeting. “What’s up with you, Colorado? You drink the friendly juice today?”
“I did,” I said, sipping on my freshly squeezed grapefruit. “It sure tastes good.”
“Take it easy there. It’s potent stuff.”
He plopped himself down and started attacking his burger aggressively. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes and he was wearing a plaid button-down with short sleeves. I relaxed a little. The presence of boys took the heat off me, as all conversation was now focused on them.
I went back to my lunch, too, and our elbows brushed against each other in the business of eating. I glanced over and noticed that Aidan’s biceps were more defined than I might have expected. My eyes traced the wiry ligaments that ran down his arms to his wide wrists. Had he always been cut like that? My own muscles went whoosh.
“Aidan, you
never
sit here. What did we do to deserve this?” Kellie cooed.
Ugh, gimme a break
.
He shrugged. “I wanted to watch you rate outfits.”
“Shut up.” She giggled.
“That, and I needed a change of scenery.” His eyes darted in my direction.
“We’re like a drive through the countryside over here on this side of the dining hall,” I said.
Hold on—am I flirting? Yes, I think I am. Imagine that
. Aidan chuckled. “More like a road off a mountain cliff.”
“But you seem to like the altitude.”
Wow. Still flirting
.
“When it doesn’t make me sick.”
“I didn’t know you had such a weak constitution. I’ll have to find you a Dramamine.”
I looked up and saw that Kellie was staring at us with a pinched face. “Are you guys gonna do this routine all day?”
“I’m actually running out of material,” Aidan said. “How about you?”
I smiled, not knowing where this confidence was coming from and not really caring, either. “I was just getting started.”
“Whoa, you guys. Look at
that
,” Cherise said, gesturing with her head.
I turned to look behind me. Mary was standing with
Alicia Gomez at the condiments bar, wearing the gold dress.
“It’s amazing,” Cherise said. “She looks like a different person.”
I drew in a breath and craned my neck to get a better look. This was the moment of truth. As exposed as I felt in front of everyone, I couldn’t wait to see how she looked. And Cherise was right. She glowed from across the room.
I wanted to stand up and applaud. She was killing it.
“That necklace is fab,” Nikki whispered.
“What happened?” Kellie whispered back. “Where’d she get that stuff? That’s a heritage Halston. I saw it at Neiman Marcus the other day.”
“I don’t know,” Nikki said. “She must have bought it at Neiman’s.”
“There’s no way.” Kellie choked out a laugh. “Are you kidding me? She must have stolen it. I mean, the girl has always looked so trashy.”
Stolen it? Wait wait wait
. Worry rang through me. This was supposed to be about raising Mary’s profile, not setting her up for my crime. Why couldn’t Kellie just give her some credit?
“Maybe she just had a style revelation,” Nikki said. “I had one of those. In eighth grade, remember? I woke up after that terrible nightmare about shopping and decided I was no longer going to buy anything from Banana Republic or J. Crew.”
“Why do you just assume she stole it, Kellie? Someone else could have bought it for her,” Cherise said, and though she was trying to sound carefree, I recognized her pointed tone from that day at the mall.
Bingo
, I thought.
That’s more like it
. Then I noticed she was looking at me, waiting for a reaction.
“It doesn’t matter how she got it. She looks really good,” I said out loud, hoping my voice wouldn’t falter or otherwise give me away.
“She looks hot,” Drew said. “I’d hit it.”
Nikki poked him with a bony, manicured finger. “You’re so rude.”
“What? I didn’t say I would date her.” He snorted to himself.
“And why’s that?” Aidan said, raising an eyebrow. “She too smart for you? The girl is number one in the form right now. I think she’d make you look dumb, dude. Especially to your Harvard dad.”
Aidan was standing up for her? I wanted to hug him. Long and hard.
Nikki and Kellie laughed as Drew’s face darkened. Apparently Drew’s dad was really domineering and Drew was forever trying to live up to his father’s expectations. “Shut the hell up, man. All I was saying is she’s not my type.”
“And all
I’m
saying is money doesn’t make you classy,” Aidan shot back. “Class does.”
“I think she looks great,” Cherise said dreamily. “And
she knows it. You can tell. Don’t you think, Willa?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to burst with pride. “It’s really flattering, like it was just made for her, you know?”
“Well, as much as I love scoping out new outfits, I think I’m going back for a soda,” Aidan announced, standing up. “Does anyone want one?”
“I’ll take one, dude.” Drew, apparently already forgiving Aidan, reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a fat black wallet. I watched him slip out a twenty-dollar bill. I caught Aidan looking at me. Our eyes locked for a moment and I was mesmerized. Then I realized he probably thought I was staring at him the whole time so I pretended to be busy dissecting my salad, cutting up ribbons of romaine.
So. Not. Cool.
“I just can’t believe it,” Kellie said. “This is so not what I was expecting. Up is down. Black is white. Next thing you know Sierra will be wearing Stella McCartney. I feel like the world is coming to an end.”
“Get a grip, girl,” Cherise said.
I felt a huge smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, but I bent over my lunch so no one would see. Kellie was on the defensive, which meant that things were changing already. I could feel the social order of Valley Prep tilting ever so slightly.
Everything was going exactly to plan, down to the appalled look on Kellie’s face. So much so that all of my reservations had evaporated like steam from the
hot-entrée line. So much so that I was ready to try it again. And I had a pretty good idea of who would be my next mark.
It was President’s Challenge day in PE, where we had to be tested in sit-ups, pull-ups, sit-and-reach, and of course, my nemesis, running. Mary was already rifling through her gym bag by the time I got to the locker room. Since the night at the bonfire, we hadn’t spoken much, and I knew I wasn’t high on her list, but all day I’d seen her twirling around and looking confident from afar and I guess I just wanted to see how she was doing up close.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked.
“As ready as I’m gonna be,” she said, stuffing her gym bag in her locker. She’d worn her hair down today, and it was falling around her heart-shaped face in dark puffs. “Torture.”
“I love your dress, by the way,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said, blushing. “You would not believe how many compliments I’ve gotten on this thing today. I’m almost afraid to take it off.”
A delicious warmth spread over me, like melting Nutella on a banana sandwich. She was so happy, and I was kind of proud to be the reason behind it.
“She thinks she’s all that,” Sierra said, ribbing her. She was speaking in third person, but more to Mary than to me. She still largely ignored me, but I ignored
her ignoring. One of these days, she would see that I wasn’t as bad as she thought.
Mary gave her a friendly shove. “You’re just jealous,
muchacha
.”
“About that dress? That skimpy thing wouldn’t look good on me.”
Mary rolled her eyes in my direction, and I could see that they were sparkling and light. “Whatever.”
We changed into our gym clothes, so that we all looked the same, and headed out for the track, our feet crunching on the dry gravel walkway as we strolled out to the farthest edges of school property. The sun followed us overhead like a metallic eye. Never mind that we were about to be publicly humiliated in the name of fitness standards—everything was just fine, as far as I was concerned. I felt a little bounce slip into my step.
At home, I got online and Googled Sierra. For one thing, I needed her address. But I was looking for other information, too: She was still a mystery to me, and I wanted to know more about her, especially if I was going to go picking out clothes for her. Skimpy was out, apparently.
I found her Facebook page and clicked on it. There were some photos of her with Mary and Alicia, arms around one another, flashing peace signs; and some of what looked like her family, a sister and a brother, maybe. I guess she was religious because she’d posted a quote by St. Francis of Assisi: “For it is in giving that we
receive.” Under “interests” she had “St. Mary’s Mission for Homeless lunch truck, Habitat for Humanity, and the Mesa Children’s Shelter volunteer corps.”
So her dad was out of work, she could barely afford VP, and she was spending her free time volunteering at three different organizations? Unbelievable. I felt like a total chump. If she was at all grouchy, it was no wonder. The girl was so busy taking care of the planet that she probably wasn’t getting any sleep.
Well, one good turn deserves another
, I thought as I clicked out of the screen. I opened up Excel and started making a spreadsheet with rows and columns for possible marks and possible gives. There was more work to be done, and I started by making a column for Sierra.
IN THE HALLWAY I could hear the faint sounds of piano music drifting out from the auditorium. It was a special assembly, presented by the VP Nightingales, who were previewing songs from their fall concert. Out here I was singing a completely different tune, and it sounded like breaking into Drew Miller’s locker.
The job demanded the right tool, and I just so happened to be carrying it in my pocket. Tre had shown me how to pop off a soda-can top and cut and fold it into the right shape to make a shim. I’d practiced a few times with Typhoon Dew and Diet Coke cans we took out of the park’s recycling receptacles.
“I feel guilty about this,” I’d said to him, as we pilfered more aluminum from the green bins. I was thinking about my mom and her strict recycle-everything policy.
“Why?” he’d said, shrugging. “This is recycling.”
Now I just needed to slide the shim into the
combination lock, like so … and get the right angle on it … not like that, no. It just had to…
Click…
And voilà.