The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back

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The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back Page 11

by Unknown


  I had just pulled down the last picture when I heard a voice in the hallway. Jake. Ella ran over to me and grabbed the pictures out of my hand. "Give them to me. I know just what to do with them."

  She ran off in the opposite direction and Trent went over to intercept Jake. I heard him say the announcement video was off. My first instinct was to follow after Ella and put as much distance between Jake and me as I possibly could.

  I even started walking away when I made myself stop. A big part of me doubted Mercedes had just told me the truth. But why bother lying to me? Why would she go to all this trouble? I looked back at Jake and wondered if all of this had been one big con. If Jake had used my feelings for him to manipulate me. If he wanted to get back together with Ella. If he wanted to distract me to keep me from trying my hardest to win the election. I thought back to our first conversations—when he had wanted me to lie for him. When he'd wanted me to cheat for him. Who was to say anything had changed? Had I been taken in?

  There was really only one way to find out.

  I came up to them just as Trent said to Jake, "You'd better keep your stupid little friend Mercedes away from Mattie, understand?" Trent poked Jake in the chest with his index finger, as if to emphasize his point.

  Jake looked confused. "What are you talking about? Mattie?"

  I put on my poker face. "Nothing. Trent's just playing around."

  "I'm not kidding, Mattie. If that girl comes after you again, I'm taking it out on him." I was pretty sure Jake could pound Trent into the ground, but I was touched by Trent standing up for me.

  "I've got this," I told Trent. He gave Jake one last glare, and went to find Ella.

  "Okay, I'm more than a little confused."

  I wasn't about to explain to him what had just happened. Because either he was in on it with Mercedes, and I had no intention of crying on his shoulder while he enjoyed my pain, or he had no idea what Mercedes had done and if I told him, it would bring up the awkwardness of me having drawn the pictures, and I wasn't about to go there either.

  "Don't worry about it. Um, I've finally finished that Pride & Prejudice project. Do you want to go to the library during lunch so I can show it to you?" The sooner I finished things between us, the better. I would never be able to objectively figure out if Jake was using me with him looking all hot and smelling so good and standing so close.

  "Actually, I thought I might take you out for dinner to celebrate. I know this great place called Zooma Sushi over on the Pacific Coast Highway. Interested?"

  Two days ago I would have thrown my arms around his neck and jumped up and down like I had in the kitchen with Ella. I would have told him a thousand times yes. Because for all intents and purposes, it definitely sounded like Jake Kingston was finally asking me, Mattie Lowe, out on a date.

  Half an hour ago I would have been happy but reserved. I would have wondered whether he would bring up the pictures. I would have spent most of the night worrying and wondering when he would say something.

  But now Mercedes had tainted it for me. I didn't know why he was asking me. If she had been lying and Jake really did just want to take me out because he liked me, or if this was part of some nefarious plan to use me to get what he wanted. But maybe meeting in a neutral place would make it easier to read him.

  "Sure, I can meet you there. What time?"

  "Oh," he looked surprised. "You don't want me to pick you up?"

  Surprisingly enough, I think I finally had my fill of rides in Jake's car. "The speeches are tomorrow and I have a lot to work on, so it'd probably be better for me to just drive myself."

  "Uh, okay. How is six o'clock?"

  "Six is fine. See you then."

  I turned to go, wanting to find out what Ella had done with all the posters and to figure out how I could stop Mercedes from papering the entire school with them again.

  I ignored the temptation to turn around and sneak a look at Jake.

  From now on I planned on moving forward and to stop looking back.

  * * *

  Fortunately for me, Ms. Rathbone and Malibu Prep had a zero tolerance policy when it came to bullying. Ella took the stack of posters to the headmistress, and Mercedes sat in the office for most of the morning until her parents arrived. Apparently Mr. Bentley was an attorney and tried to make an argument about Mercedes's actual intent (that she had meant to compliment me on my artistic ability, if you can believe it), but Ms. Rathbone didn't back down.

  The headmistress's secretary adored Ella, and gave her the inside scoop. Mercedes had been suspended for three days, and she wouldn't be allowed to attend the masquerade ball. Which I knew probably just killed her, considering I'd overheard her a few days ago bragging about her new Vera Wang dress.

  And to top it all off, Ms. Rathbone let Mr. Bentley know that if Mercedes did anything like this again, they would send a letter to her college admissions office outlining her behavioral issues.

  That was what made me feel safe—not even torturing me was worth Mercedes's future.

  I still spent most of the day on edge, ready to flip the switch to full on freak-out if anyone even so much as mentioned my drawings of Jake.

  But no one said a word. The situation had apparently been contained.

  One less thing to worry about; only about a million more remained.

  Including my "date" with Jake that night.

  I didn't want to obsess over it. I told myself that under no circumstances would I spend one minute thinking about having dinner with Jake. This was just about going over our project.

  Do you think my head listened?

  When I got home I told Ella about meeting Jake and she, predictably, flipped out with excitement. She wanted to dress me up, but I refused. As far as I was concerned, this was not a date. Jake didn't ask me out because he liked me. He asked me to look over our project and to possibly weasel information out of me. She kept trying to talk to me about it, but I shut her down. She looked so sad and disappointed. I couldn't tell her what Mercedes had said. I didn't want to see that look of pity in her eyes again. Plus, I needed to think about how to handle him.

  I planned to turn the tables on Jake. If he wanted to hear about Ella or wanted to manipulate me with his charm and good looks and smile and good looks (did I mention his good looks?) he would be out of luck. I would use this time to watch him like I did when we played poker.

  If he lied to me, I would know it.

  Dad barely noticed when I said I was taking the car, and I turned on the GPS app on my phone. The slightly demented British lady gave me perfect instructions, until she suddenly ordered me to do a U-turn on PCH. I nearly crashed into someone else following the directions but spotted the restaurant on my right.

  Zooma Sushi was a small, square looking building sitting on a hillside that overlooked the ocean. Giant oak and maple trees surrounded the entire area. I rolled down the window, and felt the ocean breeze blowing inside the car. Several outdoor tables were set up on the patio. I scanned the area for Jake—I didn't see him or his car. I was ready to deduct points for lateness when I saw him pull up.

  My resolve melted a little at the sight of him. He looked so good, and had obviously dressed up. He wore a dark blue button-up shirt and faded blue jeans. He took two stairs at a time until he got to the restaurant door. I saw him stand aside to let an older couple go through the door first. The couple smiled up at him.

  Was this the real Jake? The nice guy who thought about other people? The Jake that I had fallen in love with?

  Or was the real Jake the one Mercedes had told me about?

  Only one way to find out.

  I gathered up my courage and picked up my bag and his letterman's jacket from the passenger seat. I headed for the restaurant and let myself in. It was really adorable and romantic. It had a long sushi bar where several people sat, eating and laughing. It also had floor to ceiling windows with the most beautiful views. This was probably his little seduction spot, where he took all his girls. Jake sat next t
o one of the windows, looking outside.

  He saw me and stood up. Buddha help me, he looked even better up close. He seemed nervous. He could be nervous because he was lying to me. Or because he was using me. It could potentially make him feel bad if he had some shady purpose where I was concerned.

  I didn't allow myself to consider the possibility that he was nervous for the same reason that I felt nervous.

  He smiled. "Hey, you found it."

  "I had GPS help," I said as I approached the table. He came around to the other side and held out my chair for me. Half of me didn't want him to be a gentleman. I could pull out my own chair. I didn't need his help. But the other part of me wanted to melt into a pile of goo. I needed to stay suspicious, my mind clear and sharp. I didn't want the world to go hazy and fuzzy like it tended to when I was with him. I handed him his jacket, and he put it on the back of his seat.

  I sat down and picked up a menu.

  "Anything look good to you?" he asked.

  I held the menu up to cover my face so he wouldn't see me blushing. Because he looked good to me. Jake's not on the menu, I told my hormones.

  "What would you recommend? I've never had sushi before."

  He pushed the menu away from my face, and he had an expression of absolute shock. "How is that even possible?"

  "Because my mom's half Japanese."

  He looked completely confused. So I gave him the CliffNotes version of her drama. He seemed to get it. "Totally understand. It is pretty cool that you have this whole other heritage in your life."

  "Well, unfortunately it comes with my mother attached."

  That made him smile. "Okay, so the lobster roll is amazing, the toro is killer and I've always loved the yellowtail."

  "None of that has eel in it, does it?"

  "They have eel here, but no, none of the ones I just mentioned have eel."

  "Then it sounds good."

  Jake took my menu, went to the bar to place our order, where the chefs greeted him by name. He chatted with them for a few minutes before coming back to the table. Just how many dates had he brought here?

  "Come here often?"

  He at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "I used to come here every week with my grandfather before he passed away. It was his favorite restaurant. This is the first time I've been here since he died. I hadn't wanted to come back here again until now."

  My breath caught as he reached across the table and took my hand in his, squeezing gently. I wanted so badly to believe the lie. I wanted to squeeze his hand back and revel in the idea that Jake had brought me some place special because he liked me and wanted to be with me. But all I could hear was Mercedes's voice when she told me how sad and pathetic I was.

  "Did you want to see the final product?" Thankfully, my voice didn't tremble or break. I reached over into my bag and pulled our manga out. I handed it to him.

  He put it on the table and slowly turned the pages. I had colored everything in, and it looked pretty awesome, if I did say so myself. It turned out really well.

  Jake closed it and looked up at me. "This is amazing. You are really talented. We're getting an A for sure."

  The thought crossed my mind that we were, once again, discussing my drawings. I didn't dwell on it though. If he brought up those portraits of him, I would change the subject. Easy enough.

  "You may not want to count your chickens on that one. You know how Ms. Aprils feels about me."

  "It's cool. Aprils loves me."

  He said it in that cocky, offhand way that only the truly popular and confident could. A pretty blonde walked past our table and Jake's eyes flickered briefly to look at her before returning his full attention to me. She had a passing resemblance to Ella.

  Mercedes's venomous words rolled around inside my head. Of course anyone would choose Ella over me. Miss early admissions to UCLA. Boys falling at her feet. All gorgeous and perfect.

  I stopped myself. In the past I would have kept going, comparing myself to her. I would have blamed Ella for Jake using me and added it to my List of Grievances. But I could finally see that none of this was Ella's fault. She had stepped aside and practically gift wrapped Jake for me. She had even schemed to try and get us together. She had done nothing but support and love me and I was not about to pay that back by blaming her.

  Even if Jake still wanted Ella, Ella didn't want Jake.

  The chef, a man named Toshi, brought our plates over personally. He told us to enjoy, and Jake handed me a pair of chopsticks. I refused them on principle and used a fork.

  "I hope you don't mind, but I went ahead and ordered their green tea ice cream. Sometimes it's fun to have dessert before dinner."

  I didn't know what to try first, but I generally liked lobster. Jake pointed out the right one, and I had a piece.

  "Ugh," I said.

  He looked worried. "What, you don't like it?"

  "No, I love it." If my mother ever found out, I'd never hear the end of it. The lobster was sweet and crisp and had a spicy mayo which seemed to make it even sweeter. I tried the toro next, and it was fresh and delicious and practically disintegrated in my mouth. I had never tasted anything so good. I dug into the ice cream next, and a mixture of green tea tempura, cinnamon and orange exploded inside my mouth.

  I would have to leave this restaurant soon or I would blow up like Violet Beauregarde in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Jake would have to roll me out the door.

  "I'm glad."

  Jake tried to initiate conversation for the next few minutes, but I stuck to one-syllable answers. Partly because I just wanted to eat, but mostly because I didn't want to get sucked in. I tried to read him. Was he lying to me and I had missed all the signs? Or was he just that good? Maybe he was some kind of relationship card shark. I waited for him to touch his face, especially his mouth. This felt like the poker game all over again. Only instead of playing poker, he was playing with my heart.

  But he never touched his face.

  I hate to admit, but it softened me. How could it not? How could I not want to pretend this was real? Even if I knew, in the back of my mind, that fairytales didn't come true for girls like me. Prince Charming never ended up with the ugly stepsister. I was just fooling myself because I so desperately wanted it.

  "So, any hints on what you plan on saying in your speech tomorrow?"

  It was like he had thrown a bucket of ice water over my head. Suddenly the lobster tasted rubbery in my mouth. I took a drink to force it down. It hadn't taken long for him to bring the election up. I wondered how much longer I had until he started talking about Ella.

  "I think talking about the election should be off-limits, don't you?"

  "Uh, sure." I had made him uncomfortable, but he quickly rebounded. "I guess we have to have some surprises for tomorrow, right?"

  I gave him a tight smile in return.

  Was this a real date? A distraction? Was he trying to throw me off my game? Or had Mercedes made the whole thing up to mess with my head and I was ruining an actual date? Unfortunately, it was too easy to believe her. Why would Jake like me? What was so special about me that he would give me any attention?

  We learned in science about this theory called Occam's razor that basically said that when there's more than one explanation, the simplest one is usually right.

  And the simplest explanation here was that Mercedes had told the truth and I was an idiot to have ever believed that Jake might like me.

  "You know, I don't think the sushi's really agreeing with me. I'm going to head home."

  I stood up, and Jake sat there for a second, looking surprised. Finally he asked, "Are you okay? Do you need me to drive you?"

  "No, I'm fine. I'm just going to go."

  He reached out and grabbed my hand, and I forced myself to ignore the electricity that passed between us. "Listen, whatever happens tomorrow, I still want us to be friends."

  I immediately pulled my hand away. I couldn't risk it. "Sure, whatever. See you."<
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  I left him sitting in his chair. Once I got outside, I practically ran to my car. I didn't care if he could see me or not.

  My tires squealed as I left the parking lot and got back onto the PCH. I let all my frustration out on the pavement, pushing the accelerator down. I realized that I should have left some cash to help pay for dinner, until I decided that if he did plan to use me for information, the least he could do was pay.

  It wasn't until I nearly got home that I remembered what he had said as I left the restaurant.

  What had he meant? What would happen tomorrow?

  Chapter 14

  Needless to say, sleep was pretty much out of the question. I tossed and turned the entire night. If he had been lying, he had nearly convinced me.

  My head throbbed the next morning and my head felt stuffy. Stress completely wrecked my immune system and I started to feel sick.

  Ella took one look at me and came back with a glass of orange juice and a cup of green tea. "You cannot get sick. Not today."

  "I know, I know," I said before I blew my nose into a tissue. I took some Dayquil and put the box into my bag. Today I would stand in front of the entire school and tell them why they should elect me as their senior class president.

  I had been so caught up in my Jake obsession that I hadn't spent much time working on my speech. At about three in the morning, I finally got up and finished it.

  I was not a great public speaker, but I would just have to do the best I could. Cold or no cold.

  Jake would be at the house soon for school. I sent him a text saying that I wasn't feeling too well and that I would just see him later at school. It took a few minutes, but he finally responded with an "okay." I wished I could stay home and crawl under my covers, but I had to turn in our English project, and I had to be there for the speeches. It would be my one chance to talk to the student body before they voted.

 

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