“You’re my least favorite person in the school,” Val shot back.
Alex laughed, “Now now, that’s not true. You love me, and you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because, out of all these girls, I spoke to you first. That means something.” He spoke so quietly only Val could hear.
The notion was almost laughable, “What does it mean?” Val felt compelled to ask.
“It means you’re desirable. In their eyes, it gives you status. See how they’re glancing at you, and then frowning and looking away? By talking to you first, I’m sending the message that you are above them—in my eyes at least.”
“So?”
Alex sighed, “So, sweety, you should thank me.” He returned to his group of friends before Val could say anything else.
“What did he say?” Zoey asked.
“Oh, nothing.”
“It had to have been more than that,” Jenny said, “You guys were talking for a few minutes.”
Valentina shrugged, “Well yeah we said some things, but nothing important. Nothing worth repeating.” Suddenly she was the center of attention, as the Trio gushed about how “dreamy” Alex was, and how they wished he’d talk to them more. It made Val sick; didn’t they see how he treated Aiden? Or do they just not care? She supposed the latter was more likely.
Yet Alex’s intervention had the predicted effect. By the time Student Gov was over Val felt like she’d broken into the group of girls—she didn’t feel extremely close to them, but she felt like they had come to view her as a peer, one worthy of consideration.
Things with Mckayla hadn’t been the same since Monday; Val texted her on the way home, “Hey, are you ok?” She waited almost fifteen minutes for a reply.
“Sure,” was all Mckayla had written. Val knew something was wrong—after all, Mckayla wasn’t the one-word response type of girl, except when she was mad—but she just didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know what she’d done that was so out of line.
Val decided to ask outright, “Why are you mad at me?”
Another fifteen minutes passed; Val was home by the time her phone buzzed with Mckayla’s answer, “Life’s unfair.” To say it was cryptic would be an understatement; Val had no clue what it meant.
“Uh, of course it is… But I don’t get why you get mad at me for that.” It was nearly dinner time; from her room in the basement, Val could smell the aroma of soup cooking in the kitchen.
“We need to talk,” was Mckayla’s only answer.
“Ok. Can I come over in ten?” It was a question Val wouldn’t usually have had to ask; Mckayla’s door had always been open to her.
“Sure.”
Val ascended the stairs to the main floor and pulled on her flip flops; “Hey dad,” she said, “can you give me a ride to Mckayla’s?”
“Not now,” he replied, “dinner’s almost ready. We’ve been working long and hard on this, so the least you can do is appreciate it.” When Mom and Dad cooked, they cooked as a team; Val supposed they used it as bonding time.
“Please dad,” she begged, “this is super important.”
Dad sighed, “How important?” He left the kitchen to talk face-to-face.
“Mckayla’s mad at me for some reason and we really need to talk about it.”
Dad frowned, “Fine, you can eat when we get back. I’ll drop you off, but you’ll have to find your own way home.”
“Ok.” It was a better deal than Val could’ve hoped for.
Dad handed off the cooking spoon and took off his bright red apron before grabbing his keys. “I’m gonna be so happy when you learn to drive,” he said.
“Why’s that?” Val asked.
“Cause then I can finally retire my chauffeur’s cap.” Dad was not kidding; he literally had a chauffeur’s cap Val had bought him for his birthday. She’d bought it as a joke, but he wore it every time he drove her places. Dad had a tendency to take some jokes too far.
After a fifteen minute drive, they arrived at Mckayla’s house. “Wish me luck?” Val asked; she felt out of place in their new SUV, as if it belonged in a different neighborhood.
“You won’t need it, kiddo. Everything’ll be fine, you’ll see.” Dad kissed her on the cheek, “Now get out and fix things with your best friend.”
Mckayla’s mother answered the door; “Uh, is Mckayla home?” Val asked awkwardly. She was used to walking into her friend’s house, with or without invitation, where like as not she’d be greeted by an exuberant Brady.
“Of course, she’s in her room,” Mckayla’s mother stood aside to let Val inside. She waved to Dad as he drove away.
Val knocked on her friend’s door; there was no answer for a minute. Then, “Come in.”
“Hey,” Val shut the door behind her; the room was messy, with toys strewn everywhere, and yet Brady was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Mckayla made him leave so we could talk in private. “So what do we need to talk about?”
Mckayla sighed, “This is gonna sound horrible, but I have to say it.” She was lying down on her bed, talking to the ceiling, “You’ve always had everything; looks, smarts, work ethic. I never had any of that—at Walker I was always living in your shadow. So I always figured that, like, things were looking up for me, and you were destined for a fall. So now that things have gotten even better for you and I’m stuck in the same crappy home going to school with the same crappy people from Walker—“ she didn’t finish the sentence.
“You feel like it should’ve been the other way around,” Val concluded. Mckayla nodded. “Honestly, I wish it had been,” she took a seat on the edge of her friend’s bed, “You have no idea how horrible Palm Lake is. All the people care about is whose parents do what, and how you look, and nothing important.”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” Mckayla sniped, “I know what it’s like—all the rich kids running around, spending money like it’s nothing and having fun—I’ve seen Gossip Girl!”
Val wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry, “I’m not lying—it’s not nearly as fun as you seem to think. I don’t know anybody there and they tell me who I can be friends with and it just sucks!”
Mckayla rolled onto her side, so she was facing away from Val, “Even if that’s true, I still feel like I should be the one telling you about how it’s not as great as people think it is. I’m the one who’s due for a lucky break! Not you!”
“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” Val asked, her voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I didn’t ask for this! I’d trade places with you in a heartbeat if I could!” she pulled out her wallet and threw it on the bed, “There—there’s everything I have. A—a credit card and a debit card and all my cash, too. It’s all I can give you.”
“I don’t want your pity,” Mckayla’s face contorted with disgust, “Go home, Val, and don’t ever talk to me again. Don’t even text.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and Val let them fall; she felt like she’d just been stabbed in the heart. It took all of Val’s mental fortitude to locate the door and leave her best friend’s—now ex-best-friend’s—house. The walk to the corner of Keats and Boyce seemed to take forever; she called a taxi and the man on the phone could barely understand her. He kept asking if she needed emergency services; no, of course not, since no hospital can fix a broken heart.
It was only when the taxi arrived and the driver asked for payment up front that Val remembered she’d left her wallet on her friend’s bed. She tried telling the taxi driver that she’d have money at home to pay him with, but he wouldn’t listen, “No money, no ride. No free rides!”
So Val found herself walking home, the setting sun at her back. It was bound to be a long walk, and if she’d known that was how her attempt at reconciliation would end, Val would have worn something sturdier than flip flops.
She’d gone a half dozen blocks when a white car screeched to a halt in front of her. “We know that girl!” someone shouted. The window rolled down slowly, to revea
l Keenan in the passenger seat; beside him, driving, was Alex. Val hadn’t even known they were friends.
Val ran through her options quickly: she could run away and pretend to have been somewhere else the whole night, she could try to wipe away her tears before anyone saw, or she could just acknowledge them and keep walking. Numb as she was, the third option seemed best. “Hey Keenan, Alex,” she said.
“Hey Val!” Alex grinned.
“Hey Val,” Keenan looked worried, “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” Val looked at the ground; why did they have to run across her now, when all she wanted to do was go home and hide under a blanket? She was sure they’d tell everyone at Palm Lake about her walking home, and about why she was crying if she told them. Keenan might be trustworthy, but Alex was the type who always shared others’ secrets.
They wouldn’t accept her vague answer, “Look,” Keenan replied, “no one cries over nothing. Can we at least give you a ride?”
“Yeah,” Alex agreed, “We have an extra seat right here. On my lap.”
Val shook her head, “I guess I could use a ride. But do I have to sit on your lap?”
Alex rolled down the windows to reveal Grant, Steven, and Logan in the backseat, “You’re gonna have to sit on someone’s lap, sweety. Might as well be mine, right?” he winked.
Val wiped away some tears with her hands; they came away black. “Still think I look like a goddess, Alex?”
Keenan and Alex both laughed. “It would take more than a little smeared makeup to ruin your beauty,” Keenan said, “You can sit in my lap if you want. I promise I’ll be more respectful than Alex. Plus, my door’s closer.”
Val thought about it for a moment, and then stepped from the curb and pulled open the white sedan’s passenger-side door. She settled down on Keenan’s lap; it was pretty uncomfortable. He undid his seatbelt and re-secured it over both of them, “There. Now if we get in a car crash we won’t die.”
“So where do you need to go?” Alex asked.
“1625 Cedar Avenue,” Val recited her new address; she was glad that she’d memorized it.
“Cedar,” Alex thought for a moment, “I used to have a friend who lived there. I know exactly where it is.”
“Great,” for a moment Val worried what her parents would say when she was dropped off by five boys, but Keenan and Alex kept up a running stream of jokes that made her forget about that concern.
Alex drove ten miles over, even on the sidestreets, and as a result Val was home several minutes before she’d expected to be. “Well, here I am. Thanks for the ride,” she smiled as sweetly as she could, given her current emotions.
“Any time, sweety. You owe me one though.”
“I do?” Val asked, worried.
“Naw, of course you don’t,” Keenan assured, “I owe you one for letting me use your Chem notes, and Alex owes me one, so let’s just count this as repayment all around.”
Val wasn’t sure she understood his logic, “Yeah, sure. Bye, guys. See you tomorrow.”
“Au revoir!” Alex shouted as he drove off; Val thought she could hear Keenan making fun of him (“That’s not Italian, it’s French, stupid”) as the white car sped away.
Dad cleared his throat from the driveway, “So—who were they?”
Chapter 6
The second day of Val’s Flag Football/Volleyball class found her learning how to throw a proper spiral. It turned out to be a lot harder than Young made it look; Val had discovered he was the school’s quarterback, which explained why he knew Mr. Sharp so well. It would have been easier if she hadn’t been one of only seven girls in the class; Mr. Sharp seemed to take special pleasure in teasing her.
“Come on,” he said after Val threw a particularly inaccurate pass, “You call that a spiral?”
“I’m trying,” Val mumbled.
“Yes yes, of course you are. And I’m trying to be patient and not give you an F. You can’t always get by on looks alone, you know.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Val protested, “In what situation would I not be able to get by on looks but have to be able to throw a football perfectly?”
“This one.” Val’s partner, a sophomore boy, laughed at the coach’s joke. Val glared at him; “What? It’s funny,” he said.
“No it’s not!” she tried to catch the ball as her partner tossed it, but it fell to the ground after she bobbled it twice.
Young laughed loudly, “Can we cut people from the class, coach?” Val glared at him.
“Unfortunately not,” Mr. Sharp replied, “But sometimes I wish—“
The rest of the period was filled with jokes about Val’s inability to throw a football—it was as if no one in the class had anything better to do than watch her try to throw passes. Each time the ball fell, it was accompanied by another remark, with the result that by the time Mr. Sharp told them they could head for the locker room, Val was quite sure she hated every single one of her classmates.
Young was waiting in the hall outside the girls’ locker room; Val gave him a confused look before shaking her head and turning to head for her next class. What’s he doing in this section of the hall? she wondered; it led only to the girls’ locker room and bathroom. He had no reason to be there.
“Hold up!” Young called; Val paused, and then realized he must be talking to someone else. She kept walking until a hand grabbed her shoulder.
“What?” she asked as she turned to find Porter holding her.
“I wanted to apologize for making fun of you,” Porter said, “I think I—“ he smiled, “—I mean, we, as a class—may have been a bit too harsh.”
“Really?” Val folded her arms and stared up at Young.
“Ok, I know we were pretty harsh. But you have to understand—“
“Understand what?” Val cut him off.
“You are pretty easy to make fun of.”
“Am not!”
Young imitated Val throwing a pass, “It’s no wonder why your passes always miss.”
“Look, if you just waited for me to make fun of me some more, this conversation’s over,” Val started to walk away.
“I really am sorry. I feel like I kinda instigated the whole thing, and so I’m a little responsible. Maybe I could make up for it by taking you out to lunch?”
Val scoffed, “As if. I’m not allowed to date until I’m old enough to drive, and even if I was—“
“This wouldn’t be a date,” Young cut in, “We’d just be hanging out. I have a girlfriend already, so I’m not looking.”
“Alright, Young,” Val wasn’t going to turn down a free meal, or a chance to get away from Palm Lake for even an hour.
“Great! When do you have off today?”
“Fifth.”
Young frowned, “That’s no good. I have physics fifth, and I’m already falling behind. How about tomorrow? I don’t have physics on Fridays.”
“Tomorrow would work just fine,” Valentina nodded and started to walk away again.
“Young isn’t my actual name, you know,” Young said, “It’s just my last name. My first name’s Porter.”
Val turned around, “Oh, cool. Well, see you tomorrow, Porter.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Val’s next class was Homeroom. Thursday was the first “normal schedule” day to include Homeroom; Val wasn’t exactly excited for it, but supposed the extra half-period could be useful. She had some Geography homework to get started on.
Val didn’t get to work on her homework, however, as her Homeroom teacher announced they were headed to the theater as soon as everyone arrived. Val waited for the rest of the class to arrive; she tried pulling out a notebook to doodle in to pass the time, but quickly got bored with it. Instead, she watched the door, searching for familiar faces. Carrie walked into the room, looking just as shy as ever. Val waved at the girl; they’d become friends, owing to the fact that they shared two periods with each other every day.
“Alright, looks like everyone’s
here,” Ms. Hughes, Val’s Homeroom teacher, had dyed-blonde hair and an excessive amount of freckles. When she spoke, she looked at the floor or the back of the room, hardly making eye contact with her students. “When the bell rings, we’ll go to the theater.”
It took almost two minutes for the bell to ring; during that time Val had to endure the crude humor of three boys sitting in the corner a few desks away, none of whom she recognized. She tried glaring at them, and—when that didn’t work—she decided to say something. “Seriously, what are you guys, like five?”
Two of the boys—the one with beady eyes and the well-tanned one—quieted. The third boy, however, turned to face Val, a smirk on his face; his lupine features made the expression seem all the more menacing. “Excuse me, when did we invite you to be a part of this conversation?”
“Well—“ Val had no good answer, “—I’m sitting right next to you—“
“So what?” the wolf-faced boy asked, “That doesn’t give you a right to interrupt our conversation.”
Val was getting ready to argue until Carrie tugged on her arm. “Yeah?” she turned toward her friend.
“Time to go,” Carrie said; looking around, Val realized Carrie had a point. The rest of their class was already filing out the door, beginning the short trek to the theater. If the two girls didn’t leave immediately, they’d probably be stuck sitting next to the boys Val had just antagonized. They got up and followed the rest of the class out; Val wanted to take her bag, but Miss Hughes made her leave it.
Seating in the theater was decided primarily by who wanted to sit next to whom. Val chose a seat near a group of Student Gov students—two of the three Trio members were sitting a few chairs away from Aiden and Noah—and Carrie sat next to her.
There was no easy way to discern the purpose of this assembly; the stage was practically empty and the curtains had not been drawn to provide a backdrop for a PowerPoint presentation, the way they had been on Monday when the administrators went over clubs at the school.
“Oh damn, it’s the nosy girl from our class,” Val heard behind her. She turned in her seat to find the three boys from her homeroom sitting one row up. The wolf-faced one waved, “Your thoughts, Miss Longnose?”
How to Be a Perfect Girl Page 4
