Plastic Polly (15 page)

True Confession: Every day I stand in front of my closet door and ask myself, “What would a popular girl wear today?”

E
VERY MIDDLE SCHOOL HAS A DRESS CODE
. S
URE, SOME
schools have official dress codes and make you wear gross uniforms, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean, there can be several different unofficial dress codes at one school.

Like at Winston Academy if you're a Court girl, you probably wear strappy sandals and flippy skirts. Down in the Dungeon, I've noticed the girls have a dress code of their own: long, flowing skirts, peasant blouses, and brightly colored scarfs.

I think about this as I stand in front of my closet one
morning, trying to decide what to wear. For the past few days—ever since tryouts for Groove It Up finished—I've been avoiding the Court and eating lunch with Alyssa in the Dungeon.

Kate Newport served as the third judge—you should've seen the look on her face when I asked her—and overall, tryouts went really well. Kai and Aidan, the Shakespeare Twins, and Betsy the gymnast all showed up and were voted onto the Talent Team. Alyssa and I mostly voted the same way. Kate usually waited to cast her vote until after Alyssa and I voted. She didn't seem to care all that much who made the cut. She just seemed happy to be included.

The only people not happy with the tryouts were Melinda and Jenna, and they started giving me the silent treatment at the Court. Since listening to Melinda and Jenna ignore me gets annoying (and Lindsey seems nervous every time she talks to me), I've started eating lunch with Alyssa in the Dungeon.

I pull a blue skirt from my closet. I feel out of place wearing my clothes in the Dungeon. No one else down there dresses like me. Plus, it's hard sitting on the floor of Mrs. Marsden's classroom in a shorter skirt. I decide against the skirt and put it back in my closet.

The first day that Alyssa and I ate lunch together, we
mostly talked about Groove It Up (and we ignored the weird looks from everyone else in Mrs. Marsden's room). But slowly we've started talking about other stuff too. We discuss the novels we're reading—something I can't talk to Kelsey about, since she thinks reading is a waste of her time. (Right now I'm reading
Little Wome
n for the book report in Mr. Fish's class.) Alyssa also told me she's trying out for the lead in the school play this spring, and that last year she had a huge crush on Derek Tanner, but he never noticed her, even though she sat next to him in three classes.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that Derek—who barely speaks to me now that he's made it onto the Talent Team—isn't all that interesting, so instead I said, “Are you serious? You should have told me. I could have introduced you.”

Alyssa fell silent, suddenly seeming absorbed in her peanut butter and banana sandwich, and I realized how rude I probably sounded. Because for one thing, last year Alyssa and I weren't even speaking to each other. And second, things that seem normal to me, like hanging out with the cheerleaders and the football players, are out of reach for Alyssa.

Sometimes it feels like Winston Academy is made up of several small countries (the Court, the Dungeon, and many other cliques) with strict rules in place to keep outsiders
from breaching the boundaries. I wonder if it's like that at other middle schools.

While I'm hunting through my closet, my fingers brush against a white flowing blouse I forgot I had. I pull it out and find the long skirt Mom made me buy last month for Grandma Pierce's birthday party. After I put them on, I rustle through my dresser for the one scarf I own—a sparkly light green one Alyssa and I found at a thrift shop two years ago.

I dig through my jewelry box and put on the dangly silver earrings that Kate insisted I borrow last week after I told her I thought they were cute. Then I stare at myself again in the mirror. I look almost exactly like some of Alyssa's friends.

It occurs to me that if I really want to be like the girls in the Dungeon, I could ask Mom to take me to see a few musicals. I think I could also—

My eyes fall on the picture of me, Alyssa, and Kelsey. The one from Alyssa's room I forgot to stick back on her corkboard. It's been sitting on my dresser ever since. I'm still standing in between Alyssa and Kelsey, with my ponytail and my T-shirt and cutoffs. Then I flick my eyes back to the mirror.

Who am I kidding? I hate musicals. And the flowing
blouses and skirts may look cute on the girls in the Dungeon, but right now I personally feel like I'm wearing bed sheets. If I wear this outfit today, I'll be itching and sweating before the first bell rings.

But if I wanted to, I could do it. I could turn myself into a clone of the Dungeon girls. I'm great at making myself over. I look back at the picture. I've done it once already, haven't I? And if I did it again, what would people call me then? Broadway Polly? It doesn't have quite the same ring as Plastic Polly.

I stare at the picture a while longer, then decide to change into something that's more “me.” Whatever that is.

Actually, Plastic Polly is the perfect nickname,
I think as I unwind the scarf from around my neck.

Because I
am
fake.

When I get to school, the hallways are festive. Tonight is Halloween, and a few students are wearing their costumes, even though it's against the rules. A group of boys are wearing silver tuxedos—Shattered Stars' trademark look—and singing. A boy dressed as Dracula comes screaming down the hall, scaring a girl so badly
she
screams and drops her textbooks. Another girl is passing out candy to anyone who stops by her locker.

I'm spinning my combination lock when I hear Alyssa come up behind me and say hi. When I turn around, I see she looks a little nervous. “Tasha, Dominique, and I are going to a harvest festival at the community center tonight. Want to join us?”

Alyssa smiles shyly, and I know she's offering me something. A friendship outside of Groove It Up and a few lunches in the Dungeon. A chance to start over.

“I'd really like to, but I can't,” I tell Alyssa truthfully. “But could you come with me somewhere? Kelsey and I were supposed to go to Kristy Palmer's Halloween party—”

“I am
not
hanging out with a bunch of cheerleaders.”

“You didn't let me finish,” I say.

Kelsey and I
were
supposed to go to Kristy's Halloween party, but Mrs. Taylor said Kelsey can't go because of her injuries. Kelsey sent me a ton of livid texts last night, so I texted her back that I'd skip the party and hang out with her at her house and pass out candy. I'm bummed, because I worked really hard on my costume, but I'd rather be with Kelsey.

After I tell Alyssa all that, I add, “And Kristy isn't that bad.” Because she's really not. She doesn't join in with Melinda and Jenna when they ignore me. And yesterday in history class she leaned over and said she was glad I'd fired Melinda and Jenna. “I want to win,” she whispered
fiercely. “American River can suck my snobby private school toenails.”

“Yeah, right,” Alyssa says now. “I'm sure Kristy and all your stuck-up Court friends are just a bundle of fun.”

I ignore that and say, “You could come with me to Kelsey's house.” I don't actually know if that's true or not. I don't know how Kelsey would react to seeing Alyssa. Not well, I guess. I deliberately haven't mentioned that I've been hanging out with Alyssa whenever Kelsey and I have talked or texted this week. But I want Alyssa to know her invitation means something to me.

“I don't think so.” Alyssa turns like she's going to walk away.

“Okay,” I say quickly, “but maybe we could hang out tomorrow after school?”

“Um, I can't,” Alyssa says. “I have a history test I have to study for.”

“Okay.” I decide not to remind Alyssa that we have the same history teacher, just during different periods, so I know that test isn't until next week. “Maybe another time?”

“Sure, yeah,” Alyssa says, and walks away.

I turn and angrily stuff my backpack into my locker, ignoring Kate Newport when she approaches and offers me a handful of candy corn. Same old Alyssa. She expects
me to drop everything for her, but she won't change her plans for me, probably because she thinks her friends are better—and less shallow—than mine.

And she thinks
I'm
the stuck-up one?

Halloween is my favorite holiday. Not because of the candy, or because I like spiders and blood and guts and stuff. (Gross!) Nope, I like Halloween because it's the one night in the year when I can pretend to be anyone I want and no one can call me fake.

Last year I dressed up as a butterfly. I had shiny, sparkly wings and a glittery face mask. Everyone liked my costume, except for Brooklyn Jones, who said it was “pretty but kind of immature.” So this year I wanted to pick out a costume that said,
Now here's a girl who's mature and sophisticated. Here's a girl who's in control and worth talking to.
So I decided to be Cleopatra. Besides my costume, which came with a really cool black wig, Mom let me buy chunky gold jewelry and gold strappy sandals.

When Mom and I pull up at Kelsey's house, I see candlelit pumpkins lining the walkway, and spiderwebs hanging from the roof. I tell Mom I'll see her in a few hours, straighten my wig, and hop out of the car. A couple of boys dressed as Jedi Knights from
Star Wars
stand outside the front
door while Kelsey and her little sister, Molly, drop candy into their outstretched pillowcases.

After they've left and I'm inside, Kelsey slams the door. She's got a murderous look in her eyes, and she's holding up her hot-pink cast like she'd like to smack someone with it. “Why did you bother dressing up?” Kelsey raises her voice and calls out, “It's not like we get to
go
anywhere.”

“I heard that,” comes Mrs. Taylor's voice from upstairs. “And I'm not discussing it any further. You're not leaving this house until you're well enough to go back to school.”

Kelsey rolls her eyes and leads me and Molly into the kitchen. “Want some pizza?”

“Do you have pepperoni?”

“No, and what do you care?” Kelsey hands me a slice of plain cheese. “You'd just pick them off anyway.” She slams the pizza box shut and checks her cell phone. While I silently watch, she sends off a couple of texts and mutters to herself.

“Text me back,” she commands her phone.

We stare at her cell. Nothing happens.

“Who's supposed to text you back?” I ask.

“Melinda. Kristy. Lindsey. Kate Newport. Someone, anyone.” Kelsey plunks down in front of the breakfast bar. “It's the most important party of the fall, and I want to
know what's going on.” She frowns at her phone. “I can't
believe
no one's texting me back.”

“Maybe they can't hear you over the music,” I say, and Kelsey scowls in response.

The doorbell rings, and I offer to get it since Kelsey's in such a rotten mood. When I open the door, I'm greeted by a little girl dressed as a ladybug. Her mom stands behind her.

“Trick or treat!”

“Happy Halloween!” I hand her a couple pieces of candy. After that several other groups of trick-or-treaters arrive and I'm busy passing out candy. Once the coast is clear, I head back inside and find Kelsey and Molly in the kitchen. Molly's standing still while Kelsey is attempting to zip up Molly's pirate princess costume with one hand.

“Need help?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

Once I've zipped up the costume, Kelsey says, “Molly's telling me about a boy in her class.” She turns back to her sister. “Okay, go on.”

“And then he called me a poopy head,” Molly says in a teary voice. “And then he pushed me down into a puddle.”

“Did you tell the teacher?”

Molly nodded. “But she said she didn't see it, and that he was probably just teasing me because he likes me.”