Speed Dating (16 page)

Sebastiano stayed seated on the floor. “It’s kind of funny, if you think about it,” he said. “Don’t step on my hand.” Holly
was pacing furiously back and forth in front of the lockers.

“He’s going to pay,” Holly said. “I am going to go over there to his
ranch house
where he lives with his
dentist father
and tell him off like he’s never been told off before. I’ll let him know what I think of his Mexican soap opera. And then
I’m going to dump him and never speak to him again, no matter how pathetically he begs.” Assuming he would beg. Holly dearly
hoped he would, so she could hang up the phone on him and let his e-mails go unanswered as the situation warranted.

She turned to Sebastiano and practically spat, “I’m leaving now. You coming? You enjoy the sight of blood, don’t you?”

Sebastiano jumped up. “Wait, wait, wait a second here.”

“I don’t want to wait. I want to go this minute while my rage is good and hot. I’ll make him look at the clock and tell me
what time it is—before I dump him. Another priceless moment he’ll never forget.”

“Stop,” Sebastiano said. “Let’s think this through.”

“What’s there to think about?” Holly said. “I understand that Eli is a jerk. Therefore, I will break up with him. Period.”

He grabbed Holly’s arm and tried to calm her down. “You can do that, but then you’ll miss all the fun.”

“What fun? I see nothing fun about this.”

“Think about it,” Sebastiano said. “Don’t you get it? The tables have turned. You know his secret. And he doesn’t know you
know.”

“So?”

“So now
you
have the power,” Sebastiano said. “This is a dream come true! He’s following that soap opera like it’s a script for his life.
All you have to do is watch the show, and you can predict everything he’s going to say and do. Don’t you see? You can do more
than just dump
his ass. You can totally mess with his head.”

Holly’s mind instantly cleared. The idea was very appealing. “It will be like being able to read his thoughts,” she said. “If
I watch the show, I’ll know exactly what Eli’s going to do next. I’ll be prepared for everything.”

“You’ll be able to have a little fun with him,” Sebastiano said. “Torture him a little. Make him pay for what he’s done to
you.”

“Yeah.” Holly’s mood brightened. “I’ve got a great source of information here. Why waste it? Why not put it to good use?”

“Exactly.”

“Thank god I take Spanish, or I’d never be able to follow the show.” She’d been taking Spanish since seventh grade. She wasn’t
fluent, but she had a decent grasp of it.

“He won’t know that you’re onto him,” Sebastiano said. “But you’ll always know what he’s up to. You’ll be able to predict his
every move. Holly, come to my house after school this afternoon! We’ll watch the show together. You’ve got to let me be a
part of this—you’ve just got to!”

“Calm down,” Holly said. “All right. Let’s watch the show this afternoon. I’ll be TiVo’ing it every day from now on, believe
me.”

“Excellent,” Sebastiano said. “This is so exciting.
A real, live soap opera come to life!”

Holly wasn’t nearly as thrilled as Sebastiano was. But her curiosity got the best of her.
What will happen next?
she wondered.
Stay tuned for the next episode of
Holly’s Increasingly Weird Life.

To:     mad4u

From: your daily horoscope

HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: Something embarrassing will happen to you today. No, even more embarrassing than usual.

L
oosen up your shoulders,” Mads shouted over the music. “Like this.” She took Stephen by the shoulders and shook him, trying
to unstiffen him. As she shook him she felt her new thong ride up on her hips. She wiggled her hips, trying to get the thong
to slip back down, but that didn’t work. She had no choice
but to reach down and adjust it—again.

“Like this?” Stephen waggled his shoulders and pumped his legs up and down. He looked like a robot on speed.

“Kind of, but don’t jerk your head. More relaxed.” Mads showed him a smooth, easy, side-to-side step. She wished
she
could be more relaxed. It was Saturday night, and she and Stephen were out at the Rutgers Roadhouse, dancing to a post-punk
band called Go Dog Go. The band was great, and Stephen, in spite of congenitally dorky dancing, looked good. She wore her
sexy new camisole peeking out from under a white stretch button-down shirt, and her thong under her blue suede mini. The camisole
was fine, but the thong was driving her crazy. It kept riding up and getting into places where she didn’t want it to be. She
was constantly adjusting it, which did not make her feel the least bit sexy.

“Is this better?” Stephen was pogo’ing now, a dance move even a boy couldn’t mess up. Mads nodded. That song segued into another
fast tune. Stephen took her hands so they could hop up and down together. She put her arms around his neck and jumped up on
his back, wrapping her legs around his waist. He laughed and tried to pogo while piggybacking her.

That’s when it happened.

Mads felt a tiny
pingi
on the side of her hip. A snap,
as if somebody had flicked her with a fingernail. She quickly unhooked her legs and jumped off Stephen’s back. He kept pogo’ing,
but she didn’t. He stopped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Mads didn’t answer at first. She could feel something hanging off her left leg. A swatch of fabric against her thigh. She
reached to her right hip to tug the thong strap up. But it wasn’t there.

Oh, my god.

She glanced down and spotted a thin blue string peeking out from under her skirt.

“Gotta go—bathroom emergency!” she shouted over the music. She ran to the ladies’ room before Stephen could ask what the problem
was. She couldn’t think of a nonembarrassing answer.

She locked herself in a stall and inspected the damage. One thong strap had snapped. Her panties were hanging by the other
strap—a thread—from her left leg. Completely useless.

She had two choices: 1. Try to mend the broken thong as best she could and carry on; or 2. Toss the stupid thong in the trash.

She opted for #1. She tied together the broken ends of the thong strap. The knot made a little lump under her skirt. Real
sexy. She just hoped it would hold.

She returned to Stephen, who immediately grabbed her and flung her across the dance floor. Normally she was a wild dancer,
but this was a touchy situation. Her hand involuntarily touched the knot at the side of her hip to make sure it was holding.
She found herself checking the status of her thong every three minutes for the rest of the night. She couldn’t let loose if
she had to worry about things falling out from under her skirt.

Stephen playfully shook her shoulders. “Relax!” he teased, imitating her. “Don’t be such a stiff boy dancer.”

She smiled and shimmied, then checked her underwear again. Still holding… whoops. As she touched it, the knot came undone.

“Um, I have to go to the bathroom again,” she said.

Stephen looked concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “But when I get back, can we leave?”

“Whatever you want.”

She returned to the bathroom and tossed the useless string into the trash. Mads knew lots of ways to ruin a night out: talking
too much, not talking enough, saying something stupid, bursting into tears… She’d been guilty of date-busters before. But
rogue lingerie? This was a new one.

So much for the thong experiment—it was back to granny pants for her.

To:     linaonme

From: your daily horoscope

HERE IS TODAY’S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: Your life feels like horror film and you’re the babysitter.

O
w!” Lina felt a sharp tug on the back of her hair. She turned around. Karl Levine, a dopey guy in her Interpersonal Human Development
class, laughed and ran away to the safety of his lunchroom table full of geeks. “What did you do that for?” Lina called after
him.

“That was weird,” Holly said.

“Karl’s
weird,” Mads said. “Tell us more about the show.”

They were having lunch while Holly explained the Eli situation to them. She and Sebastiano had watched the first episode of
Los Días del Corazón
the day before.

“Otavio is this hunky guy who’s always taking his shirt off,” Holly said.

“Does he look like Eli?” Lina asked.

“No,” Holly said. “Then there’s Marisol, a beautiful brunette who lives in a bikini.”

“Does she look like you?” Mads asked.

“No,” Holly said. “But listen to this: Yesterday Otavio sent Marisol roses with this incredible note saying how passionate
he was for her. And a few hours later I got roses from Eli!”

“What did the note say?” Lina asked.

“It said, ‘Thinking of you at 3:17.’“

“Wow,” Mads said.

“What else happened?” Lina asked.

“Otavio threatened Marisol’s ex-boyfriend,” Holly said. “He said he’d kill him if he ever came near Marisol again.”

“Do you think Eli will threaten Rob?” Mads lowered her voice—even though the lunchroom was so noisy, Rob wouldn’t have heard
her if she’d shouted. He was sitting with his swim team buddies. One of them was trying to keep a potato chip in the air as
long as he could by
blowing at it through a straw. Rob wore a T-shirt that said,
GOT RID OF THE KIDS—THE CAT WAS ALLERGIC.

Holly shrugged. “Who knows? I hope not. Rob hasn’t done anything to bother me. We haven’t even spoken.”

Lina felt another tweak at the back of her head. She whipped her head around. Claire Kessler stood sheepishly behind her.

“Stop it!” Lina snapped. “Why did you do that?”

“I just wanted to see if it’s true,” Claire said.

“If what’s true?” Lina asked.

“Nothing.” Claire hurried away.

“What is with these people?” Lina asked.

Holly glanced at the cafeteria line and said, “Look out, Lina. Here comes trouble.”

Lina looked up. Autumn exited the line with her tray. She started toward her usual table, where her friends Rebecca, Claire,
and Ingrid were sitting. But she changed course and detoured to Lina’s table. “Hi, Lina,” she said. “Read my blog lately?”

Lina stiffened. Now what? What had Autumn done to her this time? Lina hadn’t even had a chance to try to retaliate for the
last one yet.

“No,” Lina said. “Should I?”

“I think so,” Autumn said. “It’s always good reading. But the latest posting will mean a lot to you.” She smiled
and walked away with her chin jutting out.

“I’m afraid to look,” Lina said.

“We might as well get it over with,” Mads said. “Let’s hit the library.”

I’ll come right to the point. You want your news and you want it now. So here it is: Many people admire our dear, sweet friend
Tess’s tresses. Some girls would kill for smooth, straight, shiny black hair like hers. But guess what: it’s a wig! And if
you want proof, just try tugging on it. I promise you it will come right off. Go ahead, pull her hair. It won’t hurt her,
because it’s a wig. Don’t be shy. She’s a good sport. She’ll think it’s funny

“Oh, my god.” Lina’s hands flew to her head as if she were about to be attacked by vicious hair-pullers right then and there.
“No wonder everyone’s been acting so weird. She’s telling people to pull my hair!”

“The way her mind works is absolutely diabolical,” Mads said.

Lina glanced around the library, afraid that someone might sneak up behind her.

“Don’t let her make you paranoid,” Mads said.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Holly took Lina by the arm. “I think I’ve got a hat in my locker. You can wear it to fend
off the advancing hordes of hair-pullers.”

“One sec,” Lina said, typing something into the computer. “I’ve got something to do first.” Autumn was going to get it now.
That morning Ramona had written a sample anti-Autumn smear for Lina to post. Lina had thought it was too mean. But that was
then, and this was now. Lina posted Ramona’s fake story without changing a word.

Maybe you’ve heard—or maybe you haven’t (I think the school is trying to cover it up) of the recent rash of thefts from the
boys’ locker room? Someone has been stealing the boys’ shoes while they’re busy at gym or sports practice. It looks like an
inside job. School officials are baffled.

I think I can help them out. If you want to know where the stolen shoes are, check a certain girl’s locker. You all know her.
Let’s call her “Summer.”

Summer is very secretive about her locker. She doesn’t like people to see inside. For good reason: She’s hiding the stolen
shoes in there. She is the shoe thief. Not only that, the back wall of her
locker is plastered with pictures of men’s feet. Snapshots, pictures cut from magazines, Odor-Eaters ads…

Why does she do it? Some people are just weird, I guess. You might call it a foot fetish. Normally this would be none of my
business, but since there’s a crime involved, and scores of innocent, unsuspecting boys are missing their favorite shoes,
I thought it my duty to go public with this information. Summer, if you know what’s good for you, turn yourself in. Otherwise,
I’ll have to.

As for all you boys, if you want to get Summer’s attention, try waving your bare feet at her. The smellier the better. She
won’t be able to resist!

“How can you believe anything on that stupid Mood Swing?” Autumn screeched through the hallway later that afternoon. Rebecca
trailed after her. Lina and Ramona pressed themselves against a locker, hoping Autumn wouldn’t notice them. “It’s all bullshit!
And I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m not Summer!”