Pretenders (7 page)

I digress… the point is, everything was great until dinner, when A.J. announced he got fired.

Again.

He hacked into his boss’s computer and changed the wallpaper from a family picture in Nantucket to a naked girl lying on a gondola in Venice. The boss’s wife and kids stopped by to bring him lunch and were the first ones to notice it.

Everyone knew A.J. did it because he’s a genius with computers. So that was it. The fourth job he lost this year.

Mom blamed Dad for teaching A.J. how to hack. Dad blamed Mom for blaming him instead of A.J., and A.J. blamed his boss for not paying him on rain days. My skin blamed me for not putting myself up for adoption. I don’t blame it one bit.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Blake wanted to go to the mall today but I couldn’t. He really wanted an excuse to visit Mike, so I don’t feel guilty. Mike is the crazy-jealous guy Blake has been “hanging with” since July. He works at J.Crew and, with the help of his employee discount, dresses Blake like Amelia Earhart.

“It’s all leather bomber jackets and scarves this fall,” he claims.

I want to say, “Really, Mike? Get a J.Clue. Blake is a skater, not a Tuskegee Airman!” But I don’t. I once referred to him as Trike because he’s a third wheel. Blake went radio silent on me for an entire day. I’m glad Trike doesn’t live in our district or he’d be at Noble. And I’d become Lily, party of one.

Anyway, Mom and Dad wanted to go to ground zero to see the 9/11 memorial pools so we did that. I started crying when I saw the names of all the people who died. Which is weird because I was only five when it happened and I didn’t know any of them. Maybe I was born with the unique ability to love people I’ve never met. This would explain my deep feelings for Duffy.

Epiphany! This trait must run in our family. Aunt Iris has an entire basement full of Elvis memorabilia and she’s never met him either. She must have the same gene as I do. The one that makes me collect things Duffy has touched.

This is what I have so far:

• Crushed Mountain Dew can.
  
• Glow-in-the-dark Frisbee.
  
• Mud-covered Nike Air Max basketball shoes with the swooshes covered in silver duct tape.
  
• Reusable water bottle (blue).
  
• 3 used sparklers.
  
• Nerf water pistol.
  
• Purple-stained Popsicle stick.
  
• Basketball.
  

9.10.12

INT. BATHROOM STALL—LAST PERIOD.

SHERIDAN had a choice to make: yawn through the last fifteen minutes of Algebra or put quill to paper and record her feelings while they were still raw. And ehmagawd, if you could smell what she’s smelling, you’d know what she chose. SHERIDAN inhales the expired Chanel No. 19 on her wrist and begins…

Today started off ah-mazing.

FLASHBACK.

Audri got in the back of the BMW, took one look at me, and gasped. I was wearing a purple scarf side-tied around my neck,
yellow cami, Max’s gray church blazer, a pleated skirt, argyle knee socks, and sling-back wedges. My hair was reflective; my lips, glossed & found. She could not take her four eyes off me.

Um, Audri, are you an escalator?
(Me.)

No, why?

Because you keep stair-ing. Now rate me.

Nine point five.

Why not a ten?

Because tens are reserved for special occasions!

Ahhhhhhhhh!
(That was both of us screaming at the same time because she was so right there with me on the
Clique
stuff.)

Ehmagawd, you’re channeling Massie Block!
(Audri.)

Dad turned up the volume on CNN Radio.

I think Isaac is getting annoyed.
(Me.)

Audri cracked up so hard her entire face turned my favorite color. Hint: the color of royalty. Hint: Massie Block’s favorite color. Anyway, Isaac was the Blocks’ driver before (
SPOILER ALERT
) they went broke and had to fire him. Which, o’course, Audri knew because we were ob-suh-essed with that series in middle school.

I gave Audri a huge hug for naming my character so quickly. She pulled away fast.

Ew, what is that?
(Audri fanning the air, ah-gain!)
Did you burp hand sanitizer?

Puh-lease.
(Me.)
It’s Chanel No. 19. I found a sample in my mom’s makeup cabinet. It’s older than the feather hair-extension trend, but Massie wore it so…

When Isaac dropped us at the Pick and Flick, I hooked my arm through Audri’s and summoned “Don’t Cha (Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me)” on my inner iPod. Chins up, lips pursed, eyes knowing, we catwalked toward the school’s arched entrance.

Everyone stared. I glared.

Duffy, the heart-drawing guy, side-eyed me again in English. So I thought:

Um, Sheridan, are you a hammer?

No, why?

’Cause you’re nailing it!

I looked Duffy straight on and said,
Hey
.

His buddy Owen Cooper flicked him on the shoulder and they started laughing. I wanted someone to laugh with too. Instead, I rolled my eyes like they were so immature.

Attention up here, Miss Spencer
, said Ms. Silver.

My blush blushed.

Science was next and I was determined to find a lab partner worthy of a place in my Pretty Committee.

I zeroed in on the girl with wavy hair and green eyes. She could be the exotic one, like Alicia. Together, we’d find a financially challenged athlete to play Kristen, and Audri would play Dylan. She wasn’t big-boned or a redhead, but she thought burps were funny and was probably ready for a change after a three-year run as my Beta.

“Alicia” was so into taking notes she didn’t notice me watching her. Thank Gawd! I didn’t want to look desperate. But the second Mr. Larsen told us to choose a partner I pounced.

Her name was Vanessa. Which is kind of funny because she looks like Vanessa Williams from that show
Ugly Betty
, only younger.

Anyway, the assignment was to pick three substances and determine their effect on the boiling point of water. I asked Vanessa why this matters when we have microwaves. She didn’t even smile. All she said was:
I’ll choose the substances, work the Bunsen burner, and record our findings. You hold the beakers so they don’t tip.

Um, Vanessa, are you a designer named Hugo?

No.

Then why so Bossy?

Vanessa scratched her arms and then sat on her hands.
Sorry. What did you have in mind? You know, other than a microwave?

I want to Bunsen.

Vanessa scratched again when Mr. Larsen came over and told us how well we were collaborating. So Vanessa, being the type who cares if science teachers like her, let it go.

First I lit the salt.

Then the sugar.

Then my scarf.

I screamed. Everyone screamed. Mr. Larsen blasted me with a fire extinguisher. Vanessa asked if she could start over with a different partner. I smelled like burnt stuffed animal. I looked like a marshmallow. That’s what you get for wearing expired perfume.

It took most of Spanish to clean myself up and then it was lunch. I pulled Audri’s secret note out from under the salad bar and squeezed it like a first Oscar.

It was all about the conversation she had with Jagger during lunch. I think she wants to lip-kiss him. Anyway, she went on and on about how he’s being followed by a seal (whatever that means). Everyone at the table asked, what if this seal shows up at school? (What’s the deal with this guy and animals?) Anyway, I started to panic. Did she really write “Everyone at the table”? EVERYONE? How many friends has Audri made? Two? Five? Seven? More than ten?

I lost my appetite (unusual for a “pear,” I know) and have been light-headed and heavyhearted ever since.

Which brings me to now: last period, Algebra. And the part that’s even more embarrassing than being publicly extinguished.

FLASHBACK. TEN MINUTES AGO.

I was in class, peeling off my purple nail polish, when the door opened.

Enter: California blonde; cut-off jean shorts, navy PUMA warm-up jacket, and knee-high glitter Converse.

Hello, Kristen!
(Massie thinking that.)

Have a seat beside Sheridan.
(Mr. Baskin.)

A few guys (and even some girls) turned to watch this tanned latecomer crop-dust our row with citrus-scented perfume.

They wanted in. I had to act fast.

What would Massie do? Smile? No, too wimpy. Pass a note? Too middle school. Impress her with a comeback? Ehmagawd, yes.

Are you pregnant?
(Me, whisper-asking.)

She put a hand on her flat tummy and shook her head no.

So why did you miss so many periods?

Her lips curled into a grin. She leaned closer.
Are you a violent toddler?

I giggled with anticipation.
No.

Then why are you throwing Blocks?

Huh?
Was she playing along or calling me out?

Silly Sheridan, cliques are for kids.

Mr. Baskin asked if he was interrupting her conversation. She said
no
. And then:
This girl beside me thinks she’s Massie Block and I told her she should try to be herself instead. Or at least pick someone more current to copy.

Everyone laughed. I grabbed my books and bolted for the bathroom. The bell just rang. I’m still here. I’m going to text Audri and tell her to go home without me.

Um, Sheridan, are you Green Giant Niblets?

No.

Then why do you live in the can?

To Be Continued…

END SCENE.