siobhan vivian - not that kind of girl (8 page)

"Look, I don't do things I'm not comfortable with. I am always in control. And anyway, what right is it for anyone else to tell me what I can and can't do with my body? I won't be villainized because I happen to like being sexual. I'm not going to be embarrassed. It seems that this school has a real problem with that sort of thing." Spencer gave a pointed look at Autumn, which everyone noticed. "Forcing girls to be ashamed for doing the things that come natural to them--it's a ridiculous double standard, and we should all, frankly, tell anyone who judges us to screw off." A couple of girls nodded, including Marci Cooperstein, who was sitting directly behind Autumn. I watched as Marci reached out and gave Autumn's shoulder a little squeeze. Autumn turned around, surprised. The two girls smiled at each other. And I wanted to throw up. Melissa Sanchez raised her hand and Spencer called on her. "My brother found out I gave a hand job to one of his friends, and now he won't even look at me." Her chin started to quiver.

"See what I mean?" Spencer said. "That's horrible! Because I bet your brother wishes a girl would give him a hand job. But because you're his sister, you're dirty." I caught Autumn's eye and mouthed help. After all, she was sitting next to Spencer. If she could grab her hand and pull her down...do something. Autumn saw me. I knew she did. But all she did was look up at Spencer and smile. My control was slipping away. I quickly announced, "Now that we've got that out of the way...let's start tonight off by breaking out into groups. I've put some women's magazines out on the tables. I'd like everyone to tear out any positive female images and negative female images they see." Everyone broke into groups. Spencer marched over to me. "Why do you shut me down every time I open my mouth? I was making good points out there." I dragged her near the doors, out of earshot. "Listen, I'm sorry if you felt I cut you off. It's just we have a lot of things planned for tonight and a pretty tight schedule. I do want you to feel like you've got a say. But I need you to follow my lead, okay?" Spencer narrowed her eyes. "Aren't we supposed to be doing this together?" "Yes, but you need to voice your opinions in a way that's beneficial to the group. No one wants to see the two of us arguing." Spencer threw her hands up. "Fine, Natalie. Whatever you want. You call the shots. And I'll just stand here and be your bad-girl prop." "That's not what's going on." I folded my arms. Why was Spencer making this so difficult? It wasn't all about her. "Well, it sure feels that way," she snapped. "Look, you can lead the next discussion." "Whatever," she said, then stormed off. I couldn't believe it. How was it that Spencer didn't see the enormous olive branch I'd just handed to her? "What's happening?" Autumn asked. "Why are you being mean to Spencer?" "I'm not!" I ran my fingers through my hair. "Spencer's making a mess of everything. I could have used your help out there, except you were too busy making up with Marci to notice. Seriously. What was that about?" "Honestly, I have no idea." Autumn sounded genuine. "But I thought this was what you wanted tonight to be." I sighed, because Autumn couldn't understand. She didn't have Ms. Bee breathing down her neck. After a few minutes, Spencer called everyone back to the bleachers. I stood right next to her, so I could intervene easily if she got out of line. "Let's start with this picture." Spencer held up part of a back-to-school pictorial, where a sexed-up vamp of a teacher stood on her desk in fishnets and stilettos, with schoolboys cowering in a pile on the floor. "Does anyone have any thoughts?" No one raised their hand, so I stepped up. "I find this picture pretty sexist." "Really?" Spencer asked. "Umm, yes. This woman is clearly being objectified." "But don't you think she has the power in this situation? The boys are literally throwing themselves at her feet, groveling for her attention." I stared at the picture. Maybe Spencer had a point, but I still said, "Not really." "See--that's exactly what I mean. Any woman who dares show her sexual power--well, we automatically assume she's being victimized, taken advantage of. When really, we're the ones in charge." I pressed my lips together tight. When did the topic of the night become how Spencer had the right to slut it up? Autumn raised her hand. "What do you mean, exactly?" Spencer smiled wryly and began to offer advice to the girls. "It's about confidence," she said. "You have to know who you are, what you want, and then use your feminine powers to make boys give it to you." I groaned. "Come on, Natalie. Haven't you ever felt wanted? Had a guy stare at you so hard, he forgets to blink?" I shrugged my shoulders, even though I had. With Connor. But it wasn't something I felt in control of. It was something I tried to ignore. Spencer went on, talking about how great it is to be in control of your sexuality, and to use that power to make guys worship you. Michelle Heller told everyone how she'd gotten a guy to buy her a prom dress because he wanted her to be his date that badly. Spencer had the rest of the girls give Michelle a rousing round of applause. I found a seat in the bleachers and pretended to read some article in one of the magazines no one had bothered to pick up. I was so mad, I couldn't see any of the words. Just the white space in between the lines. I realized there was no changing Spencer. I was stupid to try. CHAPTER SIXTEEN Someone shook me awake. "Natalie?" I opened my eyes and saw Susan Choi kneeling over me. "Yeah?" I asked in a sleepy voice. I wasn't sure what time I fell asleep, but it didn't matter. Technically, it was my job to make sure at least one girl stayed awake through the night, so we'd earn the donations for our all-nighter. Except Spencer had basically railroaded my entire evening. She DJed the dance party, while I cleaned up the food. She organized a makeover session with everyone's collective makeup, leaving me to pick up used cotton balls and Q-tips. And she held an impromptu photo shoot of girls in their pajamas, for which I was not invited to pose, but to juggle fifteen different cell-phone cameras. I tried my best to maintain some semblance of control when Ms. Bee came back into the gym, but once she went to lie down, I climbed into my sleeping bag out of protest. Not because the girls' night wasn't a rousing success--it was. But I shared no part in it. "I think Spencer let some of the football boys in the school," Susan whispered. I shot up, fully awake. Other sleeping bodies lay around me, including Autumn, who shared my pillow. "What? When?" Susan made the shhhh sign. "Just a few minutes ago. I saw Spencer leave first, and then more girls slipped out of the gym one by one." "Where's Ms. Bee?" "She's asleep on the couch in the gym office. You'd better get them out of here before she wakes up, Natalie. We'll all be expelled!" I wanted to roll over and let Spencer get in trouble. But I knew I couldn't. If Ms. Bee found out about this, she'd never respect me again. Not to mention Principal Hurley. If I screwed this up, there was a real chance I'd get suspended right along with Spencer. The hallways were dark, save for some emergency lights mounted near the stairwells and the blue glow of computer monitors and television screens not turned off for the weekend. It felt scary and dangerous, like a horror movie. I passed through the math wing, moving as carefully and quietly as I could in my slippers, following the laughter and playful screams from the science labs around the bend. Shadows flickered across bulletin boards and rows of lockers, silhouettes of people running around. I turned the corner. A bunch of kids disappeared down the stairs. One large figure, definitely a boy, ducked into the girls' bathroom halfway down the hall. Three girls chased after him. I kicked off my slippers and sprinted toward them as fast as I could, my bare feet smacking the floor. The sound of my pursuit only made them laugh and scream louder. I grabbed one girl by the straps of her cami and pulled her to a stop, even though I feared the whole thing might tear away in my hands. "Hey! Careful!" she squealed, all excited and flushed at having been caught. Her face fell when she turned and saw me. "Go back to the gym," I told her as sternly as I could. "Right now." I prayed she would actually listen to me. The other two girls stopped and gave me sour looks. They were all Rosstitutes. One opened her mouth to say something, but I stared her down until it snapped shut. "Do you really want to get in any more trouble than you already are?" I asked. The three of them walked dejectedly back toward the gym. I turned back and pulled the bathroom door open. The moon shone brightly through a window, and it gave off just enough light to see Connor Hughes perched up on the radiator in jeans, a worn flannel shirt, and a dark green canvas jacket. He did not expect me to be the one who followed him inside, and he actually looked a little bit scared. "What are you doing here?" I hissed. Connor jumped down. "I forgot a book I needed." "Save your ridiculous excuses. You guys need to leave right now, before we all get expelled." "Come on, Sterling. We're just having some fun." I watched him work his moves. The way he stood, so relaxed and casual, the way he smiled at me out of the corners of his mouth. He was confident, completely sure of himself. In that moment, I understood the true power of being a guy like Connor. He could probably talk a girl into anything. Except there was no way he could talk me into not throwing him out. "Connor, I'm serious. You either leave now, or I'm getting Ms. Bee." "You wouldn't do that," he said, stepping toward me. I laughed. Did he expect me to faint or something? I took a step toward him, folded my arms, and leaned in. "Oh, yeah? Try me." We stared each other down like that for a second, and a strange feeling came over me, starting warm at my toes and spreading up through my body. "I like your PJs," he said. "Shut up," I said. He grinned. It made one dimple appear on his left cheek, which looked sandy with stubble. "You're pretty tough, aren't you, Sterling?" I liked that Connor called me by my last name. Some girls might have been insulted, because that was more how boys talked to each other, but to me, it was a compliment. And so was the word tough. I wanted to believe that he meant it. He'd said it before, that time on the football bench. But I couldn't figure out why he was telling me now, except to sweet talk me out of waking Ms. Bee. I needed to show Connor that I wasn't going to fall at his feet like the other girls at school. So I took another step forward and put my hands on my hips. "You have no idea how tough I am," I said. He took another step. A big step, closing the gap of air between us. And then he kissed me. He grabbed me and kissed me, and his whole body tensed up. It was a bold move, kissing me without asking first. I couldn't let him get away with it. So when I felt him pull away, I leaned forward and kissed him harder, camouflaging my inexperience with enthusiasm. This kiss had heat behind it. There was no need to ask for permission. It absolutely had to happen. When we pulled apart, my heart was beating insanely fast. I wanted to kiss him again. But instead I summoned up the words and said, as sternly as I could, "Now, do what I say. Get out of here." That's when he finally took a step back. I relished the space and felt my body temperature go down. "Okay," he said. Then he walked out. It took me a few seconds to move. When I left the bathroom, Connor was at the end of the hall, rounding up the other guys, telling them, "Let's go. We're out of here." Behind me, I heard a door open. I spun and saw Mike Domski slip out of the science lab and run to catch up with the boys. He had a big dumb smile on his face. "See you later, Natalie," he called, mocking. I took one last lap around the school and made sure all the hallways were clear. When I came back into the gym, I saw Spencer lying in her sleeping bag with her eyes closed. She was faking, but I didn't say anything. One moment filled up my whole mind, my whole body: I, Natalie Sterling, had just kissed, and dismissed, Connor Hughes. I felt a strange peace carrying this humongous secret, because I knew that nobody in the gym would believe it. I couldn't even believe it myself. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN "Can I talk to you for a second?" Spencer practically accosted me at my locker on Monday morning. "I want you to know that I didn't invite those guys to the school. They just showed up. I was trying to get them out. I wouldn't do anything to get you in trouble, Natalie." She put her hand over the Ross Academy crest on her sweater vest. "Swearsies." I kept my eye on Spencer. She seemed to be telling the truth. "Did Ms. Bee say anything to you?" "No. Why? Do you think she knows?" I had my suspicions. Ms. Bee had been a little cold to me the morning after the sleepover. She seemed way more interested in finding hot water for her tea than in talking to me. Hopefully, her crabbiness had been because she had a bad night's sleep on the gym office couch. "I don't think so." "Good. Then everything's okay." Spencer smiled. "It was kind of exciting, right?" It was. Kind of.

I began to see Connor way more often. Or maybe I just noticed him more. But after that night in the bathroom, we tended to run into each other a lot. It turned into a game we'd play, in the halls, at the office, in the cafeteria. Connor would look at me and grin, this knowing grin full of mischievousness and secrets, and I'd flat out ignore him. One time, we bumped into each other in the parking lot after school. His frame bulged with his football pads, since he'd just finished up with practice. I had stayed late, working on the Halloween dance decorations and waiting for Autumn, who'd left a book in her locker. Most of the cars that had parked between ours that morning had pulled away, leaving just him and me. "Hey, Sterling," Connor said. He sat on his bumper and poured Gatorade down his throat, past the lips I had kissed. Despite the grass stains and sweat and dirt, he still looked good. I didn't respond. I could have gotten in my car, but that wouldn't have been fun. So instead I put my books, one by one, in my trunk. "You coming to the game this Friday?" I turned to face him and had to shield my eyes from the setting sun. "Why would I do that?" "Because I'm playing," he said, puffing out his chest. "And anyway, isn't that part of being student council president? You know, to support the athletic teams?" He smiled, thinking he was well on his way to making a convincing argument. It was kind of adorable, really. Because Connor obviously had no clue that I was one of the top debaters at Ross Academy. No matter how he tried to argue his point of view, I was always, always going to have a comeback. "That doesn't fall under my job description. Sorry." I said it real sarcastic. "We're four and one this year. We've really got a shot at the playoffs." "Good luck with that," I deadpanned. He stood up and walked a few steps toward me. "Come on. Come to the game." I slammed my trunk. "I'm sure you have enough adoring fangirls in the stands." I tried to be smooth, only I dropped my keys on the ground. When I straightened back up, Connor stood practically on top of me. "But I don't like them." His eyes held mine and his voice had a funny sound to it, as if he were talking and groaning at the same time. I couldn't exactly tell if he was teasing me, or if he was embarrassed by what he'd just admitted. Either way, I burned. I burned a thousand degrees. I heard one of the heavy metal school doors swing open. Autumn. My heart caught in my chest. "I have to go," I said fast, and ducked under Connor's arm. He must have seen Autumn, too, because he didn't say anything more. He just walked back toward his car.