Even though several words were lost to the quiet whispering of the seniors, who’d sat through similar speeches four times now, Val got the gist of what Raelyn was trying to say—running for a Student Council position at Palm Lake was more than a way to measure your popularity; the winners would be expected to lead their class and occasionally administrators would call meetings with the four class Presidents and ask their opinion before implementing policy. It all sounded great, but Valentina was dubious that it was as important as Raelyn was saying; the Principal might ask for class Presidents’ opinions, but that didn’t mean she had to listen to what they thought. In all likelihood it was simply a matter of making the Student Council feel like they were important; but there was a chance that those meetings could actually affect something, and that was what Valentina loved about Student Council—the social aspect was great, and the opportunity to affect real change was enticing.
“So,” Raelyn was still talking, “Now we’re going to divide into our class groups. freshmen will go over here,” she pointed to one corner of the room, “Sophomores over there,” another corner, “and juniors there and seniors there,” she gestured to the final two corners. The sound of chairs squeaking filled the cafeteria as everyone moved to their designated corners; Valentina was already sitting close enough to the Freshman corner, so she decided to remain where she was. A shy looking boy sat down near her; she tried to catch his eye with a smile, but he either didn’t see or chose to ignore her.
“Oh, you’re the girl who thought you got acid on your arm,” Valentina turned to locate the source of the statement; Jenny Curtis took a seat right next to her, “You’re in my chem class.”
“Yeah, I know. You were the one who made Mr. Phillips explain the soap thing.”
“Well you don’t blame me, do you? Honestly, I come here to learn.” Jenny looked ready for an argument.
Valentina decided it would be pointless to voice her opinion. Instead, she turned to a blonde boy who had sat down next to the shy-looking boy; they were talking excitedly and looking at something behind the table. “What are you doing?” she asked.
The blonde boy smiled at her, his tilted glasses adding humor to the expression, “We’re trading Mini Monster cards. Wanna see?”
“Uh, sure,” Valentina replied. The boy handed her a card and she took it lightly, noticing how it shimmered in the light. “It’s certainly—interesting.”
“Oh yeah,” the blonde boy said, “Mini Monsters has all sorts of complex rules and different card types and so. If you wanted, I could show you how to play—I have an extra starter deck at home if you want it.”
Well now you’ve done it, Valentina thought. She couldn’t think of a way to decline without hurting the boy’s feelings; his shy friend whispered something Valentina couldn’t hear. “What’s that?” she asked.
“He said you were just being nice and you don’t actually care.”
Yup, that’s pretty much it, Valentina thought. Instead she said, “No, of course I’m interested. Maybe you could bring your starter deck thing to the next Student Council meeting?”
Jenny laughed, “You don’t actually wanna learn how to play a stupid card game, do you?” she asked, loud enough that the two boys could hear.
“Sure. I mean might as well, right?” Valentina replied.
Jenny scoffed. Raelyn had retaken her position at the head of the cafeteria, “Ok, so this is the time to get to know your fellow class leaders. If you’ve been talking with the same people for the past few minutes, move and find someone new to meet.”
There were eleven freshmen in all; Valentina grabbed her bag and started to move to another group. “Wait!” the blonde boy called, “What’s your name?”
“Valentina—Val.”
“Cool. I’m Aiden and he—“Aiden pointed to his quiet, black-haired friend, “Is the one they call Noah.”
“Huh?” Val shot Aiden a confused look.
“Just trying to be funny—nevermind. See you around.”
Valentina started for the group Jenny had moved to, but they were giggling and looking at her in a way that made her think Jenny had already told them the Chemistry story. She avoided the girls and sat with the other group of four—she was the only girl there.
The conversation died off for a moment; “That seat looks uncomfortable, why don’t you sit here instead?” the boy gestured to his lap, and his friends all laughed.
“Uh, no thanks.” Valentina grimaced.
“Well, we’re supposed to get to know each other. And you—well, I want to get to know you very intimately,” the boy winked as more laughter goaded him on.
“Gross.”
“How is that gross? It’s not like I’m asking you to give me a lap dance. Although, if you wanted to I wouldn’t say no.”
Valentina’s face flushed; she wasn’t used to anyone speaking so crudely. “That will never happen.”
“Alright, mi bella, I’ll settle for your name then.” The boy smiled—although it looked more like a leer than any smile Valentina had seen before.
“My name?” he nodded, “Uh, it’s Valentina. Or Val—some people call me Val.”
“Valentina,” the boy repeated, “What a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl. I believe it means ‘divine splendor’?”
“I really wouldn’t know,” Valentina shrugged.
“Well then,” the boy gestured to himself, “My name’s Alex.”
He pointed to his friends, and each of them spoke as he did; “Grant”, “Steven”, and “Logan” all seemed a lot mellower. Valentina liked Grant the most; at least he’d had the courtesy to blush at Alex’s jokes.
***
“Tchk Ta Tchk,” Mckayla made avalanche noises as she dropped the plastic boulders down her brother’s mountain playset.
“That’s not what falling rocks sound like!” Brady accused.
“Oh yeah?” Mckayla laughed, “How would you know? Have you ever been in a rockslide?”
In response, Brady stuck his tongue out at her, “Mom does it better.”
“Mom’s at work.” Mckayla ruffled Brady’s hair. “So you’re gonna have to deal with the way I make the sounds.”
“Alright.” Brady grabbed the toy truck under the boulders and slammed it into the mountain. “Ba-boom!” he shouted, “The oil truck blows up!”
“Isn’t that a little violent?” Mckayla asked.
Brady shrugged, “Things blow up. It’s a part of life.” He looked up at her as if he had said something incredibly profound.
The doorbell rang; “I’ll get it!” Mckayla announced. It was Valentina; Mckayla embraced her best friend. “So, how was your first day at Super-exclusive, Chai-latte High?” she asked.
“Horrible!” Valentina exclaimed. She slipped off her shoes and entered her friend’s house. “Everyone laughed at me!”
Val walked to the room Mckayla and Brady shared, and Mckayla followed.
“Surprise!” Val shouted as she leapt into view of the room. Brady was nowhere to be seen.
He leapt out at the pair of girls from inside the closet and swung a foam sword at their legs; Valentina giggled as Brady ran into the family room. She chased after him; “I’m gonna get you!” she joked. Mckayla opened the closet and grabbed a toy weapon of her own; if Brady wanted to play with the soft toys, she would play along. When she entered the main room of their ranch-house, Brady was sitting calmly on Valentina’s lap as she hugged him tightly. Mckayla leaned her sword against the wall; so much for the fight.
“I think your sister was about to kill you,” Valentina pointed to the sword she had just set aside.
“Nuh uh! I’m the best knight in all the land!” Brady wriggled around to face his sister. “And besides, I have V to protect me!”
“Wait a minute,” Val said as her friend retrieved the sword, “Aren’t knights supposed to protect damsels, and not the other way around?”
“Oh yeah,” Brady jumped off Valentina’s lap and wrapped his arms around Mcka
yla’s legs; they fell to the ground. Mckayla groaned at the impact.
“Are you alright?” Mckayla asked, worried she might have landed on top of Brady.
Brady’s eyes welled with tears; “What happened?” Val asked. Brady pointed wordlessly to his sister’s knee. “Aw, did she poke you with her knee?” Brady nodded.
“Well that’s not fair.” Valentina jumped at her friend and pinned her down. “Let’s get revenge,” she suggested.
Brady stopped crying. “Off with her head!” he shouted gleefully.
“Off with her head!” Valentina agreed; she picked up the nearest foam sword and slid it across Mckayla’s neck. “Dead,” she announced. Mckayla stuck her tongue out and twitched in her “final moments”. “Remember me,” she whispered, before closing her eyes.
“Hey!” Brady pointed at his “dead” sister. “You’re still breathing!”
“Of course,” Mckayla laughed. “I’m not really dead, just pretending.”
Silence followed for a minute, broken by a yawn from Valentina, “What are we gonna have for dinner?” she asked.
“Pizza,” Mckayla pointed to a pair of twenties on the counter. “We were going to get a couple of pepperoni pizzas, but—“ Mckayla trailed off, unsure if her friend would be interested in pepperoni pizza.
“Yuck,” Val pretended to gag, “Pizzas are so greasy. Can’t we just have a salad or something?”
“We could, but I like pizzas, and so does Brady.” Mckayla’s brother nodded vigorously; “So we’ll get a pizza, and you can get a salad. I think Nicky’s sells some of those too.”
Val giggled, “Salads from a pizza place? Shoot me now.” Mckayla shrugged, looking at her in a it’s the only option kind of way. “Alright, I’ll have their salad,” Val sighed.
Mckayla called up the pizza place; “Food’ll be here in thirty minutes,” she announced. “What should we do until then?”
“Watch tv?” Val suggested. It wasn’t the most creative idea, but no one could think of any alternatives; they watched a cartoon selected by Brady. He sat between the two girls as they traded stories about their first days of school; on the whole they agreed that first days were the most boring of all school days.
The pizza arrived; Mckayla got up to answer the door. “Race you!” Val shouted as she leaped to the counter. She grabbed the money before Mckayla could get to it and answered the door. “Hey,” she greeted the delivery boy, giggling and breathing hard.
“Uh, hello,” the teen looked perplexed. “I have two pepperoni pizzas and salad for Ms.—Mills.”
“Ha!” Mckayla held out her arms as she reached the door, brushing her friend aside, “That’s me.”
“What’s the total?” Valentina asked, holding out the money.
“Eighteen seventy-seven. Uh, do you want some change?” the boy eyed the forty dollars eagerly.
“Hmm,” Valentina turned to her friend, “Do we want change?”
“Yes,” Mckayla laughed, “He’s cute, but not that cute!”
She was right, the boy was cute; Valentina handed him the forty dollars, “Keep it.”
“Th-thank you,” the boy stared at the money as if it were the first he’d ever seen. “You’re sure you don’t want change?”
“Nope, we’re good.” Val turned to her friend, surprised to see Mckayla glaring at her; “I’ll cover the tip,” she explained.
The pizza boy started to walk away; “Hey, what about our food?” Val asked.
“Right. Sorry.” He returned and handed the pizza and salad to Val, then practically skipped back to his car.
“What was that about?” Mckayla asked.
“Like I said, I’ll cover it. Twenty dollars is like nothing. And besides, did you see his reaction? I think it made his day!”
Mckayla stared at her friend, “What happened to the girl who saved change in a jar for two years so she could buy a pair of forty dollar Uggs?” she asked.
“I’m still the same girl, I just don’t have to save my change in a jar anymore,” Val replied. “My allowance is a lot bigger now. I really don’t mind covering the tip.” She retrieved her purse from beside her shoes and pulled out her wallet, offering a crisp twenty.
“I don’t need your money,” Mckayla mumbled.
“Okay,” Val tucked some stray hair behind her ear sheepishly, “Sorry I gave away your money.”
“It’s alright, we can afford it.” Mckayla looked to the couch where Brady was still watching cartoons; “Dinner!” she called.
They ate at the counter; little conversation passed between the trio. Brady, perhaps sensing that something was amiss, tried a couple of killer jokes he’d learned at daycare; they fell flat. That’s when he knew that the evening was bound to be a wash; usually Valentina and his sister laughed at even his unfunny jokes. He wondered what had happened that to defuse the happiness of the night so quickly.
Val didn’t talk about what had happened in front of Brady, but she knew they would have to discuss it eventually. Before her family had gotten rich, Mckayla wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at allowing her friend to pay for a meal, in all or part. Why did she get so mad that I offered to refund the pizza boy’s extra tip? When Mckayla had looked at her immediately after, there had been something in her eyes that Val couldn’t quite explain; something mean, something cruel. Mckayla was usually so nice that the look had taken her completely by surprise.
After they all finished eating, Val grabbed her purse and left. She had planned on hanging out all night, but the mood had turned caustic. She still wasn’t sure why, but there had been a certain ice in the way Mckayla treated her during and after dinner that made it clear she should leave; Mckayla hadn’t explicitly said it, but she hadn’t needed to. After nearly a decade of friendship, Val could gauge her friend’s moods pretty easily.
Chapter 4
Algebra has never been anyone’s favorite subject—scheduled as it was as her first class in the morning, Val knew she was in for a rough time. She had trouble finding her class, and made the mistake of asking a nice-looking senior girl for help; the girl practically yelled at Val for disturbing her, and then gave her directions that led to an empty classroom.
It was because of that incident that she stumbled into class ten minutes late. “Welcome, Miss—“ the teacher, portly Miss Stevens from orientation, looked down at her class roster, “Miss Hunter. We were just getting started on reading the syllabus. Your seat is over there, just next to Misters-- Scott and Hitchens.” Valentina groaned inwardly; it was Alex from Student Gov and his friend Grant. She hoped they’d just leave her alone. Miss Stevens laid a copy of the syllabus in front of her, “Would you read the Class Expectations section, Miss Hunter?”
Val cleared her throat, “Class expectations. Students are expected to be in their seats as the bell rings. Late students will not be admitted,” she gulped, “Does that mean me?”
“No, not today. But from today forward, it applies,” Miss Stevens answered.
“Oh, great. Um, where was—right. Students are expected to have: one notebook, no fewer than one-hundred pages of graphing paper, one graphing calculator—“ The section was tedious and by the time Val finished reading it she felt dehydrated, like she’d gone a day without water.
Miss Stevens called on other students to read the rest of the syllabus; the class passed slowly, and by the time they’d read the whole thing it was only halfway expired. “Alright,” Miss Stevens announced, “Now for our first group activity. You are going to work on these problems—“ she gestured to the whiteboard, “—so that I can see how much you already know. You’ll notice your desks are arranged in fours—those are your group-mates. Feel free to ask for, and give, any help necessary. I’ll be walking around so I can figure out who knows their stuff—and who needs extra help.” When Miss Stevens said extra help she looked at Valentina; just because I got some bad directions, suddenly I need extra help? Val resolved to finish all the problems by herself.
The problems were difficult
; remembering skills that she’d neglected all summer proved a more difficult task than Val expected. Alex, on the other hand, seemed to be having an easy time of it, “Let’s see, if you take the equation where three lap dances is set equal to one hot blonde, and then use the substitution method on the equation where two and a half hot blondes equals four, you find that one lap dance is equal to eight fifteenths.”
Val giggled at his choice of variables; a part of her thought she should try not to react, and thus avoid encouraging the boy, but she couldn’t help it—his humor had a way of building.
“Speaking of hot blondes,” Alex tapped her on the shoulder, “Val, right?”
“Hey,” Val turned around to face him.
“Great. So, Val, what do you believe eight fifteenths of a lap dance is?”
She shrugged.
“Maybe you could show me,” Alex winked. “By the way, it looks like you’re having some problems with these problems,” he pointed to a gruesome looking scribble where Val had crossed out her work after getting nowhere on the problem he’d just finished. “Want some help?”
Val shook her head. She was determined to prove Miss Stevens’ assumption wrong—even if she’d read more into the look than had been intended, she was not going to be the slowest student in the class. Val finished the last of the problems with ten minutes left, and was pleased to see several of her classmates still working. Like her, most of the students had preferred to work on the problems alone, with the result that Alex was the only one in the room talking.
“You know, my awkward charm’s gonna wear you down,” he said. “My jokes may not always be funny, but I make enough of them that you’re bound to laugh at some. And you know what they say, if you can make a girl laugh, you have a shot—“ he smiled, “—of getting her to do your math homework.” Grant, Alex, and Val all laughed; the fourth member of their group, an awkward girl whose name Val didn’t know, tittered quietly. “See, you think it’s a joke,” Alex continued, “But I figure you need the extra practice. So here you go,” he handed her the homework sheet Miss Stevens had just handed him.
How to Be a Perfect Girl Page 2
