Plastic Polly (14 page)

I'm quiet, because I don't know how to answer that. Melinda is the third most popular girl at Winston, right after Kelsey and me. So on the outside, I guess it does look like she's one of my best friends. But how can I explain that Melinda, someone I've hung out with every day for the past year, isn't someone I would consider a best friend? That most of the time I don't even like her?

“Well,” I say slowly, “we're both popular. We both hang out at the Court.” I wince, because I know I probably sound shallow.

Principal Allen surprises me by smiling, and for just a second she seems a lot younger. “I get it. Winston Academy is full of traditions. When I was your age, I used to hang out at the Court. Your mother, too.”

“My mom was part of the Court?” I have a hard time picturing this. Mom always seems so serious. Even on Saturdays she usually wears her hair in a bun, just in case she has to throw on work clothes and go into the office.

Principal Allen grins. “People change a lot over the years. You'd be surprised.” She seems to catch herself and stops smiling, resuming her usual firm voice. “All right,
Polly. It sounds like everything here is in order, so I won't interfere. But I would advise you to be cautious. More incidents like this, and people will begin to doubt your leadership.”

After Principal Allen releases me from her office, Alyssa and I pay a visit to my locker so I can drop off my backpack. Then I start toward the staircase leading down to the Dungeon, but Alyssa stops me.

“Not yet. There's something I want to show you.” Alyssa walks to the end of the hall, shoves the door open with her hip, and heads outside.

“Where are we going?” I ask when she walks around Winston's auditorium instead of stepping inside.

“You'll see.”

Behind the auditorium there's nothing but a bunch of stinky Dumpsters. Standing beside them are two boys, who look like they could both use a long shower, playing hacky sack.

“Why are we back here?”

“Just watch,” Alyssa whispers.

Sighing, I cross my arms and watch the hacky sackers. Ten minutes before the bell rings and I'm stuck in a smelly no-man's-land with two grungy boys who have nothing
better to do with their lives than haphazardly kick a small ball with their feet.

Except as I watch them, I realize there's nothing haphazard about it at all. The two boys are bouncing and bopping their hacky sack back and forth in a routine. After a few minutes they add in another ball. In perfect unison the two of them are kicking, jumping, spinning—keeping the hacky sacks from touching the ground with choreography so clean I think even Kristy Palmer would be impressed.

“Wow.”

Alyssa nods. “I know.”

“How did you know they'd be back here?”

“Most people know they're back here. You need to get out around campus more.”

I start to protest but stop. The truth is, I spend most of my time, when I'm not in class, at the Court, or hanging out in the English hall by my locker. I rarely have to leave my locker to go find someone. People come to me. That probably sounds like I'm bragging, but I'm really not. That's just how it is.

I clear my throat, and one of the boys turns around. Then he nudges the other boy, who also turns around.

“Oh, dude!” the second boy says. “It's Plastic— I mean, shoot, it's Polly Pierce!” He turns red. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” I say. “What's your name?”

“Kai, and this is Aidan.”

“Nice to meet you guys. Do you know I'm the PlanMaster for Groove It Up this year?”

Kai and Aidan look at me strangely. “Everyone knows that,” Aidan says.

“Then you also probably know that tryouts are in a few days.”

Kai shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

“So, I want you two to try out. I think you're really talented.”

Kai and Aidan stare at each other like they're not sure they should believe me.

“I mean it. Tryouts are on Thursday, and I'd really like it if you could come.” In my head I imagine myself whipping out a business card that reads
POLLY PIERCE, PROFESSIONAL PLANMASTER
, and saying, “Call me anytime, dahling!”

“I heard tryouts this year were a sham,” Kai says, “that unless you were in with the Court, not to bother.”

“Well, it's not like that,” I say. “At least, not anymore.”

“So you're saying there's, like, a new sheriff in town?” Kai grins at me.

“Yeah.” I grin back. “I guess there is.”

True confession: I've never hung out in the Dungeon. I've never had any reason to. I'm not involved with the choir or drama club, and I'm not friends with anyone who is—so I feel a little nervous at lunch when Alyssa and I meet at the top of the staircase leading into the Dungeon.

“One thing before we go,” Alyssa says.

“Shoot.”

Alyssa looks uncomfortable. “I know that the Court and you and Kelsey and all your friends are a big deal and everything, but people in the Dungeon don't really care. It's different down there.”

We walk down the stairs, and I'm struck by how different it really is. I'm not sure what I expected—a sad, cold, and gray place? But instead, the air is warm and musty. The walls are painted a cheery yellow, and clumps of students are relaxing in the hallway, eating lunch and laughing with their friends. I can even hear a few students singing in one of the practice rooms.

“Do people practice at lunchtime?” I ask.

Alyssa nods. “Any time they can. A lot of times I join them.”

As we walk down the hall past several more practice
rooms, I notice a classroom where orange twinkle lights hang from the ceiling. In the corner a stuffed scarecrow sits on a bale of hay next to a pile of pumpkins.

“That's Mrs. Marsden's room,” Alyssa says, following my gaze. “She always decorates according to the season. You should see it in December.” Alyssa glances at me and quickly stops talking. Is she wondering—like I am—if we'll still be speaking after Groove It Up is over? Or will we go back to pretending like the other one doesn't exist?

We continue down the hall, and several students say hi to Alyssa. Their eyes flick over to me, and then they give Alyssa a questioning look as if to say,
What are you doing with
her
?
Which is funny, because upstairs it was the exact opposite. As we walked the halls, people looked at me like they couldn't figure out why I was bothering to talk to Alyssa.

We stop, and Alyssa knocks on the door of a practice room. “Hold on a minute,” comes a voice from inside.

While we wait, a girl walks up to us. “Hey, Alyssa, can you tell me again about that warm-up technique your new voice coach taught you?” She stops when she finally notices me. “Oh, hey. I didn't realize you were friends with Polly.”

Alyssa and I both glance at each other. I don't think either of us knows how to answer that. Winston has a huge middle school section, so there are a lot of kids here who
probably don't realize Alyssa and I were ever friends. For some reason this makes me sad.

Alyssa promises the girl that she'll talk to her later, and after she's gone, I ask, “You have a new voice coach?”

“Yeah. I got tired of Lady Onion Breath.”

We laugh. Then my cell phone pings with a text message from Kelsey:

You fired Melinda and Jenna? Are you out of your mind?

I'm surprised it took Kelsey this long to text me. I figured Melinda would tattle text on me the minute I left the Court yesterday.

I text back:

Possibly. I'll call you after school.

“Who was that?” Alyssa asks after I stick my phone into my pocket.

“Kelsey.”

“How's she doing?” She looks genuinely concerned.

“Good. She's home from the hospital. I'm going over there after school today. Want to—” I stop. For one second I had forgotten that Kelsey and I aren't friends with Alyssa
anymore. I was going to invite Alyssa to come along.

Alyssa stops smiling. I know from her perspective it probably feels like I chose Kelsey over her, but that wasn't it. That day, I was choosing the Court, and popularity, and everything I wanted.

Or at least, everything I thought I wanted.

The door opens, and a boy walks out. “Go on in,” he tells Alyssa. “They're almost finished.”

Inside the practice room two twin girls with long black dreadlocked hair are standing on a small stage, singing. But they're not singing in the diva-like way that Alyssa sings. They're rapping. I keep trying to catch the words, because they sound familiar.

“Wait . . . is that—are they rapping to
Hamlet
?”

Alyssa nods. “That's Tasha and Dominique. They call themselves the Shakespeare Twins. Brilliant, right?”

“Totally brilliant.” I stare at the girls. Tasha and Dominique. I'm pretty sure their names were originally on the sign-up list and were crossed off yesterday.

“Hey, Alyssa,” calls one of the girls. “No outsiders allowed.” Her gaze flicks over to me, then back to Alyssa like I'm not even there. Or like I'm someone she can't stand, even though I'm pretty sure we've never met.

“I know, Tasha,” Alyssa says, “but I wanted Polly to see
you guys. We'd like you to come try out for Groove It Up.”

Tasha crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I heard no one from drama had a chance of making it into Groove It Up this year.”

“Things are different now,” I say, stepping closer to the stage, “and I'd really like you to try out.”

Tasha looks at me and seems to consider this. “Is it true you fired Melinda Drake and Jenna Huff as judges?”

I feel something in my stomach tighten. “You heard about that?”

“Oh yeah. The whole school is talking about it. Man, there are a lot of people not happy with you right now.”

“Great,” I say. Then I add, “Yeah, it's true. I fired them.”

Tasha turns to Dominique, and a silent look passes between them. “Then we'll definitely be there,” Dominique finally answers.

Alyssa and I leave—she says there's a gymnast named Betsy she wants me to meet. We get sidetracked, though, because people keep stopping to talk to Alyssa. One girl wants to know how Alyssa did on her math test. A boy hanging out in Mrs. Marsden's room wants Alyssa to give a message to someone named Angelica. A couple girls sitting in the hallway ask if Alyssa has plans for Halloween next week.

I stand silently next to her as she answers each question, and I feel strange. All this time I guess I imagined Alyssa down here in the Dungeon by herself, a loner starved for friendship. I think back to all those photos Alyssa has tacked to her corkboard. I'm ashamed to admit this, but I guess a part of me assumed Alyssa hasn't been happy this past year, not without me and Kelsey. But as I watch her talk and laugh with everyone down here, I can see that's not the case.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Alyssa is happy. But if she's had such a great year, I can't help but wonder, has she missed me at all?