Populazzi (40 page)

I wondered if I'd caught more.

I kept watching, but I wasn't dragging myself through the mud now. I was fascinated.

I didn't see anything else between Eddie and the Genius, but a while later I'd caught part of a conversation between Kristie and her new boyfriend, Tyler.

"
Why can't we leave?
"Tyler asked.

"
Trista wouldn't like it,
" Kristie said.

"
So what? She's your friend She'll get over it.
"

"
She's not my friend! She's the social police—I hate it!
"

Oh my God—this was amazing! I was dying to hear more, but the camera lurched to four guys stuffing peanuts up their noses, then seeing how far they could snort them across the room.

What had I been thinking? The Kristie conversation was gold!

I turned the sound all the way up to see if I could hear more in the background, but I couldn't.

The tape continued to roll. Soon I saw myself in a super-unflattering mega-close-up whispering, "
Mystery footage!
" A little bit later, the screen went dark and I heard weird noises that I knew now were Trista and Seth Minkoff.

The footage was going to end too soon, and it killed me. If I'd had any clue about what would happen later that night, I never would have listened to Trista and turned off my phone. Footage of Trista Camello with Seth Minkoff would be priceless.

"
Boo! Say cheese!
" I said on the computer. I had flicked on the lights, but the camera was unfocused.

Now it zoomed in on Trista's angry face. I hadn't gotten Seth in the shot. I could've kicked myself.

"
OFF! TURN THATCAMERA OFF!
" Trista raged.

The image went wild as I lowered the phone. Was it showing the carpet? My leg? I couldn't tell. It kept moving around.

Wait a minute—why was it still moving around? It should have been off. When Trista had told me to turn it off, I had turned it off.

Hadn't I?

"
Oh my God!
" I screamed on the screen.

"
Shhhhh! Turn out the lights!
"

The image went dark, but the sound didn't stop.

It didn't stop!

I hadn't turned off the phone at all. I thought I had, but I was still taping! My heart raced as I kept listening.

"
Trista, were you having sex with Seth Minkoff?
"

"
Um, I can answer that. Yes. Yes, she was.
"

"
Shut up!
"

"
What? I'm proud.
"

"
Trista! Brett's right in the next room!
"

"
And I'd like him to
stay
there, so get the hell out and shut the hell up!
"

A minute later, the screen wasn't dark anymore. I couldn't make out what I was seeing, but I heard clapping. Then the image went dark and still. I heard my own voice say, "
Hook me up, barkeep,
" then Ree-Ree saying, "
Ladies and gentlemen...
" and I hit stop. I remembered finding my phone on the bar the next day and realized I must have put it down then and it had kept recording until the charge ran out.

I knew what came next, and I didn't want to hear it—especially not when I was on a giddy high from what I'd discovered.

I had proof that Trista was cheating on Brett. With Seth Minkoff.

I could ruin her. Just like she ruined me.

And why stop there? I could bring down Eddie, too. And there would definitely be drama in Populazzi-land if everyone saw Kristie's conversation about Trista.

This was awesome. I had everything I needed to get the ultimate revenge—but what was the best way to use it? I could post it on Facebook, maybe under a new group named Real Stories of the Populazzi. Or even under Cara Leonard Is a Great Big Whore, since the group was already so big.

The only problem with posting the clips was that they'd have to stand alone, and there was so much more I wanted to share. If I could somehow show the video myself at school, I'd have an audience. I could spill everything: Trista's rules, the fake IDs, Eddie's sexuality, Trista's eating disorder, everything.

It didn't matter how many people heard me. Even if there were just a few, word would spread. Within a day, everyone would know.

What would happen then? The junior class Populazzi would implode. As a group, they would cease to exist. And then what? What happened when the entire top of the Tower ceased to exist? Would another tier move up, or would the mantel of ultimate popularity pass to someone else? Someone who had done something bold and dramatic enough to change the social fabric of the entire school?

Someone like me.

It wasn't impossible. And if it happened, I would be Supreme Populazzi. A very different Supreme Populazzi than I'd imagined before the party, but Supreme Populazzi nonetheless. And for the final nail in Trista's coffin, I could ask Brett Seward to take me to the prom. It would be a dark, twisted version of what Claudia had dreamed for me when she'd first told me about the Ladder.

I liked it.

I surfed to Facebook, to the page for Cara Leonard Is a Great Big Whore. I posted, "
Trista, let's talk face-to-face. Friday at The Heap, 8 a.m. Everyone is invited.
" In the spirit of the group, I ended with "
Cara Leonard is a great big whore.
"

Now
everything would change.

The next day was Tuesday, and the whole school was buzzing about my post and what it might mean. I heard it all: some hoped for a catfight, some thought I'd break down sobbing, some worried I might go Columbine. A few people came right out and asked me what I planned to do, but I wouldn't answer.

Only the Populazzi seemed completely disinterested. I wondered if they'd even show up Friday morning. Not that it mattered: the result would be the same either way.

I spent the week preparing. I'd have loved a lecture hall with an IMAX screen, but The Heap and my laptop would have to do. Edited together, my three favorite clips were barely two minutes long, so I'd have plenty of time to talk before the bell rang, even if I showed the video more than once. After I'd had my say, I'd post the footage online, so everyone could enjoy.

Thursday night I ran through my spiel one last time. It was solid and it was devastating. I felt strong, powerful, and righteous. I couldn't wait until morning. Just before bed, I hopped on to Cara Leonard Is a Great Big Whore to see what people were saying. Most sounded as excited about tomorrow as I was. I bet I'd have a great turnout.

As I was about to log off, a new post appeared. It was from Robert Schwarner. "
'Anger, fear, aggression. The dark side are they. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.'
"

It was a Yoda quote.

Robert, with whom I hadn't spoken since I'd sent him away from The Heap, was sending me a Yoda quote through a site called Cara Leonard Is a Great Big Whore.

He could have been sending it to the group, of course—there was certainly a lot of anger and aggression there—but I got the feeling he'd meant it for me.

So why post to the group?

I looked to see if he was online so we could chat. He wasn't.

I read the quote again. What was his problem? Was he seriously telling me not to be angry? I
deserved
to be angry! As for fear, I thought I was showing a pretty spectacular
lack
of fear by standing up for myself in front of the entire school. Aggression? The Populazzi had been
plenty
aggressive. Wasn't it about time someone gave it right back to them?

Stupid green Muppet.

I turned off my computer and went to bed.

I kept thinking about the quote.

Worse, I
saw
it: Robert Schwarner, sitting in a swamp on a log, his face green, saying the quote in his squeaky Yoda voice.

The quote was crap. That's all it was. Happy Hopeless fan-boy crap.

I tossed and turned all night.

***

Eventually it was morning. I sighed. It was time.

I put on a very special outfit, grabbed everything I needed, and drove to school, making a quick stop on the way. By the time I got to Chrysella, the hall outside The Heap was crammed with people, but the crowd parted to let me inside.

This could have been because of my date with Trista.

Or it could have been because I was dressed like Princess Leia.

Not
exactly
like her. I hadn't had time this morning to go to an actual costume store. I wore my puffy white robe, with my curls pinned up in makeshift buns on the sides of my head. Instead of a blaster, I held a Ping-Pong paddle.

Trista was waiting in The Heap, along with the rest of the Populazzi. Once I entered, it was like I'd broken the seal keeping non-Populazzi out. Spectators started to creep inside to get a better view.

Trista rose to meet me in the middle of the room. It was a standoff at high noon—or eight a.m. She looked me up and down.

"What are you wearing?"

I pulled a thumb drive out of my bathrobe pocket.

"Trista, on this drive, I have a very interesting video. One I guarantee you don't want people to see. It's from a party. Stuff that happened after the word 'boo.'"

Everyone started to murmur. Trista's smug smile faded a moment, but she forced it back into place. "You don't have
anything,
," she spat. "You're lying just to get attention. That's all you want. You'll make up anything for it."

She sounded strong, but her eyes were frightened, and in them I could see her mind searching for a solution that would help her save face.

"The video is real," I said, "but you're right—I do want attention. At least I did. School sucks when you're invisible. You feel like you don't even exist. I always thought if someone like you noticed me, everything would change. And it did. When I started hanging out with you, the whole school knew who I was. It was amazing. It made me feel like I mattered. I loved it so much, I didn't even care that the person everyone knew wasn't me at all."

More people had pushed into the room, and the crowd was getting antsy.

"Hey," called a guy I'd last seen passed out on my father's floor. "When are you showing us the video?"

"I'm not," I said.

No one seemed to believe me. Some people laughed; others shouted, "Shut up!" "Come on!" "Just do it!" One of the Computer Dorks pushed to the front to offer his laptop, as if that's what was stopping me.

"No, I'm serious. I'm not."

"So why the hell are we all here?" another guy shouted.

"I don't know.
I'm
here to try to be me again. That's why I'm dressed this way. It's for the two people at this school who liked me for me. They saw a girl I can't even find anymore, but I know she's someone who won't hurt another person just because she can."

Silence. Then Ree-Ree called out, "
Looo-serrr!
"

The crowd seemed to agree with her. They groaned and groused and even cursed as they filed away. Several started singing Nate's "Succubus" song. Others made peeing noises.

Trista moved closer to me. She kept her voice low.

"No one believes you really have anything on that drive ... but you do."

I nodded.

"Why wouldn't you use it? I would."

"I know."

Trista looked at me like I was speaking another language she was struggling to understand. She gave up. "Suit yourself."

She walked to the other side of the room, where Brett was waiting. She folded herself into his arms for a long kiss, then the two walked out, arm-in-arm. The still-thick crowd streaming out parted to let them pass.

"You do know Princess Leia wore a white dress and not a furry white robe, right?"

I turned. Robert Schwarner was behind me.

"I didn't have a white dress. And I only changed my plan this morning, so I didn't have time to get one."

"Hmm."

"Come on, can't you be a little impressed? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get corkscrew curls into buns?"

"They're really supposed to be more braids."

"You know, you're awfully judgmental for a guy who runs around in a
BeastSlayer
cloak all the time."

"'I cannot teach him,'" Robert/Yoda said to no one in particular. "'The boy has no patience.'"

"That one doesn't work. I'm not a boy. And Yoda
does
teach Luke after he says that."

Robert sighed, shaking his head with the resignation of an old Jedi master who'd seen it all.

"Robert, I'm really sorry. I hate myself for the way I treated you ... enough to impale my skull with the better part of fifty bobby pins and a full can of hairspray to look as much like Princess Leia as possible—if Princess Leia had a penchant for fuzzy bathrobes."

"You know, there are places where you can get real Princess Leia costumes. I could take you."

"You sure you'd want to? It's not easy to be my friend right now. I'm a bit of a social liability."

"'Stay and help you I will,'" Robert Yoda'd.

The crowd had now cleared enough that we could leave The Heap. We walked the hall together in an easy silence.

"Hey, Robert," I said before I ducked into English class. "They're great movies. Not overrated at all."

"Apology accepted."

I walked to my island of a seat. For a second I thought I'd mess with people and sit someplace new, then watch everyone scatter. If I really didn't care what anyone thought, it would have been funny.

The minute class ended, I beelined for the door, pausing only slightly to set my Ping-Pong paddle in front of Archer. I didn't want to embarrass him by having an actual conversation with him, but it was a gift and I wanted him to have it. The paddle was brand-new, and on its handle I had written a short message in permanent ink:
I hate horror movies.

I saw him frown as he read it, but I didn't let myself linger. I wanted to get through this day as soon as possible. The less time I spent at Chrysella the better ... plus I had plans.

It took a while after school to get everything ready, but I finally made it to Yardley. I rang the doorbell, then ducked behind the bushes. If Claudia was home, I knew she'd be the one to answer. Lenore had a phobia about people coming to the house unexpectedly.