Revenge of the Cheerleaders (13 page)

He took a step toward me. "Well, you pretty much took care of that, didn't you?"

"No,
you
did. You're the one who wouldn't apologize."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh. Okay then. I'm sorry."

"Are you still going to sing 'Dangerously Blonde' for
High School Idol?"

"Yeah," he said. Only he used several adjectives too. Well, at least I think they're adjectives. I've never actually diagrammed a sentence with swear words in it so I'm not sure.

I smiled back at Rick. "Maybe if your grandmother won't finance your band, she'll want to finance mine. After all, she thinks I'm going places."

He took another step closer to me. "I can think of a few places where you could go."

"And the only place you're going is Juilliard. Have fun learning classical guitar."

Rick took one more step, but I never found out what he was going to say because Tanner walked back in. He looked at the two of us and I saw him note how close Rick stood to me. A flash of annoyance crossed Tanner's features and he came and stood on the other side of me. Possessively near.

Did he actually think that Rick was putting the moves on me? It was almost funny. Tanner spoke to his brother, and his voice had an edge to it. "Did you bring in all the silverware?"

Rick didn't move away from me. "Yeah."

"Why don't you go check and make sure you got it all."

"Because I know I got it all."

"Then take the tablecloth to the laundry room."

"Who made you kitchen dictator?" Rick asked, but he turned and stalked out of the room.

Once he was gone, Tanner looked at me questioningly, perhaps still trying to figure out what had happened between Rick and me. I knew I couldn't wait any longer. It had to be right now. "Um Tanner, I have something to tell you. A confession really. I should have told you before but I liked you, and I really wanted you to like me too."

His expression clouded and I knew he was expecting me to say something horrible.

"I'm only seventeen. I don't turn eighteen until April."

His expression remained clouded, like he was still waiting for the horrible part. When I didn't say anything else he said, "Right. You're seventeen. I saw that on your driver's license."

"You knew? All along you knew I wasn't in college?"

His eyes widened. "You're not in college?"

"No, I'm only a senior in high school."

"Oh—I thought you'd skipped a grade or something. You're still in high school?" I couldn't judge how bad he considered this to be, because immediately recognition filled his features. "You know Richard from school, don't you?"

"Yeah, although we're not . . . friends." I said this because I was stalling, because I still didn't want to come right out and tell him we were enemies. It was more than I wanted to discuss right now, but since I knew Rick would say things about me after I left. I added, "I guess I should warn you that he doesn't like me."

"Really?" I didn't imagine it, relief drained into Tanner's expression. "Sorry about that. But don't take it personally. He doesn't like most people. He doesn't like me."

He said this so cheerfully that I laughed. And it was nice not to have worry about the truth exploding on me anymore. Still, it didn't mean that Tanner would overlook this turn of events. I took a deep breath. "Does it bother you that I'm so much younger than you?"

Tanner stepped closer to me and took a hold of one of my hands. "You're not that much younger. I'm only a freshman. I'm eighteen."

How could that be? "But Rick is a senior—"

"Richard skipped a grade and we're two years apart." Tanner took my other hand and smiled as though an idea had just occurred to him. "You know, if I'd moved here with the rest of my family, I would have gone to PHS, and we probably would have dated."

I leaned closer to him. "Then we're just making up for lost time."

"Right." He bent down to kiss me. His lips had just touched mine when Rick came back in.

"Oh great," Rick said. "My kitchen is no longer safe to walk into."

Tanner stepped away and smiled at me apologetically. "Don't mind Richard. He's just in a bad mood because his girlfriend didn't come tonight." Then to Rick he said, "Where is she anyway?"

Rick brought his Grandmother's teacup to the dishwasher and put it in. As he did, he glanced at me. "She broke up with me."

"Really?" Tanner's voice was surprised, and then turned sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"A while ago. Her older sister didn't think I was good enough for her."

I came so close to saying, "And her older sister was right," but I bit down on my lip instead. I didn't want to appear petty and vicious in front of Tanner. I just glared back at Rick instead.

"You're kidding," Tanner said. "Adrian let her older sister dictate who she went out with?"

"Apparently," Rick said.

Not true. And I would explain the whole thing to Tanner once Rick wasn't standing there glaring at me.

"Well it's a good thing you found out now what kind of girl she is. Otherwise you'd have to remake yourself every time she didn't like something."

This about a guy who thought his hair color should match his outfit.

Rick leaned up against the counter and looked down at the floor sadly. "Yeah, I know. But it still sucks."

Tanner shook his head and a hard edge crept into his voice. "And what kind of judgmental shrew says you're not good enough for Adrian? I'll tell you what; Adrian wasn't good enough for you."

Rick didn't look up. "Nah, I always knew Adrian outclassed me."

"Only in detention appearances," Tanner said. "Come on, if Adrian hadn't worn so much hairspray her head would have flown off long ago. Forget about her—no, I take that back; remember that she was nothing but white trash in black leather. She probably only saw you in terms of dollar signs and a nice ride. You're better off without her." It was only then that Tanner turned to me. "Don't you think Rick could do better?"

"No," I said. "Actually I don't." And I had to ungrit my teeth to get that much out.

That's when Rick started laughing.

I stepped away from Tanner. "Look, thanks for dinner, but I think you should take me home now."

Tanner looked from me to Rick and back again. "What's going on?"

Rick held his hand up, his thumb and finger almost touching. "Buddy, you were this close to having that trophy girlfriend you always wanted."

"What are you talking about?" Tanner asked.

Rick shook his head, still enjoying himself more than he should have. "Apparently Chels never got around to telling you, but Adrian is her little sister."

Chapter 13

T
he ride home was painful, but thankfully short. Tanner apologized as he walked me to the car, but I barely heard it. His words had sliced into me and I didn't even want to look at him.

After we drove for a few moments in silence, Tanner said, "Really, I'm sorry, but you should have told me."

"I would have, but I couldn't find a way to casually fit that in between the judgmental-shrew remark and the hairspray comment."

He gripped the steering wheel harder than was necessary. "I was just trying to make my brother feel better after a breakup. Can't you understand that? How was I supposed to know Adrian was your sister?" Then he shook his head and let out a groan. "I should have figured it out. That's why you looked so familiar. Your smile, your voice, your mannerisms—you reminded me of Adrian."

I folded my arms tightly across my chest. "The girl you think is a gold-digging idiot? Am I supposed to feel complimented or insulted by the resemblance?"

"It's not an insult—I just—oh, nothing I say now is going to be right, is it?"

I looked out the window. "Do you know the way to my house? We, of course, live in the white trash part of town."

He didn't answer but drove in the general direction of my neighborhood so I didn't give him more directions.

"You know, it's not like you've been praising Richard," Tanner said. "Last Tuesday you told me your sister broke up with her loser boyfriend. That was my brother you were talking about."

"Yeah, and he deserved the title. Your brother is a jerk. Adrian is just . . . misguided."

"Misguided?" Tanner let out a cough. "You're the one who said she dresses like the bride of Satan."

"And I'm allowed to say that because she's my sister. But I never said she was stupid, or white trash, because she's not. Oh, and also I'm not a judgmental shrew. I didn't break Adrian and Rick up. That was your jerk-of-a-brother's fault."

"My-jerk-of-a-brother? So you're allowed to insult Richard, but I can't say anything bad about Adrian?"

"You can insult Adrian right after she writes horrible songs about you and sings them to everyone you know."

His eyebrows drew together. He had no idea what I was talking about. It was very possible that he'd never actually listened to any of the words of Rick's songs.

"Just ask him why I think he's a jerk. Eventually he'll get to the right answer."

We approached Jefferson Elementary School and Tanner slowed down. With his jaw clenched tightly he said, "I know you live around here, but I don't know which street."

I gave him directions, calmly, all the time wishing that we lived in a house half as nice as his. He pulled up in front of our small one story, and I noticed that our bushes were overgrown again and a pair of Adrian's muddy tennis shoes lay scattered across the front porch. She was supposed to have taken care of those days ago.

Tanner put the car in park and turned to me. His blue eyes flashed with anger and I suddenly realized who he reminded me of. Rick. I'd seen that look on his face a hundred times. "Hey, I'm sorry I called you a judgmental shrew," he said, "when clearly you're not judgmental at all."

I flung open the car door and stepped outside. "No problem. And by the way, Adrian
is
too good for Rick." I slammed the door and stomped across the lawn to my front door.

Once I got inside I noticed Adrian sprawled out on the couch by the living room window. "Was that Tanner Debrock's car?" she asked.

I walked past her without answering. Then I went into my room, leaned against the door, and cried.

I drove to PHS the next day. Usually I walk because it's only fifteen minutes away, but I wanted to get to school early to talk to my friends. I needed to talk to someone and Adrian, sitting beside me in the car with her MP3 player blaring and her eyes shut, was not a good candidate.

I hooked up with my friends at our usual meeting place and told them all about my dinner at the Debrocks'. There was a lot of gasping and Aubrie held onto my arm and made a several, "Oh . . . oh no . . . oh
nooool"
comments.

Rachel shook her head slowly. "What are the chances of you meeting up with Rick's older brother?"

"I guess I increased my odds by going to two places where Rick's band was playing, but really, who would have guessed Rick had such a normal and good-looking brother?"

Aubrie joined in the head shaking. We probably looked like a row of cheerleading bobble head dolls. "It's so ironic. If you hadn't made Adrian break up with Rick, then Tanner wouldn't have said those things about Adrian—and you and Tanner would still be together. This is just like one of those Greek tragedies."

"I didn't make Adrian break up with Rick," I said. "So it isn't ironic, it's just Rick's fault." I'd never made the connection Aubrie had, and it immediately bothered me. I was already in a lousy mood, and this only made things worse.

Samantha folded her arms. "I'm with Chelsea on this one. She's better off without Tanner. Guys will break your hearts if you let them. That's just what they do."

Which I supposed meant she was still upset with Logan.

Aubrie patted me on the shoulder. "At least this way you won't have to worry about getting Rick as a brother-in-law. I mean, wouldn't that have been ironic—just as you get rid of Rick in your sister's life, you pick him up in your relationship with Tanner?"

Yeah, ironic, apparently no matter what I did my life was doomed.

Aubrie gave a shudder and her eyes grew distant as though contemplating a new truth. "It's almost like you and Rick are destined to be together somehow."

"Never say those words to me again," I said.

"Don't worry about it," Rachel said with a shrug. "Once you win the auditions you'll have your pick of hot Hollywood guys. Rick and Tanner will be a distant memory."

But I couldn't imagine it. I couldn't imagine Tanner's face fading into the recesses of my mind. I would probably never see him again, and just the thought of that hurt.

Logan found me as I walked to my first class. He strode up next to me as I navigated my way through the hallways and with barely a "Hi Chelsea" for a greeting, said, "So, do you know why Samantha is mad at me?"

"Yeah. But it's not a big deal. She just followed Rachel's dating advice and it backfired on her."

He cast me a confused glance. "What?"

I realized too late that I shouldn't have mentioned Rachel or her techniques. She would not appreciate it if the guys at PHS got wind of her methods. It was better to let them all think that yes, she really was fascinated by everything they had to say.

"Look, you just need to ask Samantha some questions about herself," I told Logan. "That's all she wants."

"What?"

I held my hand out to him as though this would help with the explanation. "She's mad at you because even though she's been asking you nonstop questions about yourself, she still wants to talk about herself once in a while."

Now his eyebrows drew together in consternation.
"What?"

"Logan, why do you keep saying that?"

"Because women make no sense." He put one hand on his chest. "She's mad at me because she wants to talk about herself? Does she need my permission to do that? Why has she been asking all those questions about me if she wanted to talk about herself?"

"Because she wants you to adore her."

Logan raked his hand across his hair. "My head is going to explode. It can only take so much illogic."

"But Samantha also wants you to care about her opinion, which is why all you need to do ask her what she thinks about a few issues. Casually. Without her knowing that you're doing it on purpose or that you talked to me about it."

Logan stared at me for a moment and then looked off into space, shaking his head. "It's amazing we've survived as a species. Truly amazing."

"Oh, like guys make sense."

"Guys make perfect sense," Logan said. "But you need a degree in psychology to understand women."

No, you didn't. You just needed to talk to their friends every once in a while—thus ensuring the survival of the species. I might have pointed this out but we had to go our separate ways in the hallway so I just yelled out, "Good luck."

In history class Samantha was in a better mood. I supposed this meant that Logan had accomplished his mission. But I didn't ask because my mood had gotten worse as the day went on. At my voice lessons Mr. Metzerol told me I breathed too much. How can a person breathe too much?

When I walked by Jock's Landing, Mike and a bunch of the other football players were all laughing about something. As I got near they suddenly stopped and watched me in silence.

So subtle. Like I couldn't tell they were talking about me. I would have rather heard what they said because now I just conjured up all sorts of ugly things.

Sure there were still people who were nice to me, and my friends tried to cheer me up and tell me it would all blow over, but it only takes a couple of mean people to make you feel awful.

In history class Molly and Polly told me to look on the bright side. There were only 216 more days of school left until we graduated. They'd kept a running total since they moved in. They used to have calculations for the hours, minutes, and seconds too, but had lost track of those since their makeovers. I considered this a good sign. To their credit, each girl had kept up with her hair, makeup, and wardrobe improvements. Or as Molly put it, "Now it takes me forever to get ready for school."

Polly told me that she was picking up her contacts after school, and that she'd started jogging in the evening. "Maybe if I slim down, Joe will talk to me."

"Or maybe he'd talk to you if you talked to him first," I said. But no, she didn't want to try that.

After school, as I took books out of my locker, Rick strolled up. He wore mirrored sunglasses and a gangster-looking trench coat.

"Hey Chelsea, I just came by to tell you sorry for dinner last night."

I glanced at him suspiciously. "What are you sorry for?"

He gazed away from me, like he was too cool to make eye contact. "Whatever you want. Tanner told me to apologize and I said I would. So now I have."

He turned as though leaving, but I didn't want him to go. Just hearing Tanner's name made me want to pull more information out of Rick. "Hey, apologies don't count if you don't say what you're sorry for."

He tilted his head and grunted at me. It was then that I noticed a red mark running along Rick's cheek and disappearing under his glasses. "Is something wrong with your eye?" I asked.

"No." He leaned away from me, obviously hiding something.

"Yes, there is." I reached up and snatched the glasses off his face. A red welt surrounded by a bruise went from the corner of his eye to his cheek bone.

I let out a gasp. "Did Tanner hit you?"

Rick grabbed the sunglasses out of my hand and put them back on his face. "No, Tanner didn't hit me. It was the ceiling fan."

"The ceiling fan hit you?"

"Yes."

"You were bothering the ceiling fan's girlfriend too?"

Rick scowled to let me know I wasn't funny. "I was standing on top of the coffee table to get my car keys off the entertainment center and the ceiling fan hit me."