How to Be a Perfect Girl

by Mary Williams

  “Good point,” Alex agreed, “Let’s take a vote. Who wants to stick with Val’s theme?” The Trio, excepting Zoey, raised their hands, and so did Grant, Alex, and Val. “And who’s opposed?” Alex asked; Jenny, Zoey, and Aiden and Noah—who were seated on the very edge of the freshman table—raised their hands.

  “Five to four,” Val totaled, “Looks like we stick with the Irish theme. And let’s take a vote on the mascot choices; who wants to go with the gods Zoey looked up?” There were two votes, from Zoey and Jenny. “Who wants to have our mascots be mythical creatures, like Colin suggested?” Everyone else at the table voted for the second option. “Good, so we can get to work on that. Should we announce it to everyone else?”

  Alex nodded, “Yeah, you should.”

  “I should? Why me?”

  Alex laughed, “Because you’re the freshman class President silly. You’re supposed to be our spokesperson.” Jenny coughed loudly.

  “Alright,” Val nervously climbed up on the stage, “Can I have everyone’s attention?” It took a minute for the cafeteria to quiet down; the process was helped when Grant shouted, “Quiet!”

  Once the remaining whispering had stopped, Val cleared her throat and made her announcement, “We—we being the freshmen—have just decided on the Homecoming theme. We’re going with an Irish theme, because of our school’s colors and because it hasn’t been done before. For the mascots, we chose to do mythical creatures; so, werewolves, druids, fairies, and—um,” Val frowned at the floor as she tried to think of the last one.

  “Leprechauns,” Alex whispered, loudly enough Val could hear.

  “Oh yeah, and leprechauns.” Val took a deep breath, “So, I guess we decide who wants what mascot now--?”

  Avery stood from her seat at one of the senior’s two tables, “That’s right. We’ll decide first. Give us a minute to talk it over.” Val stayed where she was while the seniors whispered about what they wanted to be and finally put the matter to a vote. “We’ll take werewolves,” Avery announced, “Juniors?”

  They repeated the same process twice; the juniors chose leprechauns and the sophomores druids, leaving Val and the freshmen with fairies. Sophia and Val seemed to be the only ones who were alright with the result; “I wanted to be werewolves,” Noah complained.

  Avery skipped to the front of the stage; Val envied the way the cafeteria quieted when it became apparent the senior was about to talk. “Now that we all have our mascots, it’s time to compose our class songs. This has taken a while in the past, so don’t be the Student Gov group that lets your class down by not finishing. Select a pop song to put your lyrics to, and run it by Raelyn or myself for approval. Looking at the time—“ Avery looked up at the big clock hanging on the cafeteria wall, “It’s about time to finish. I’ll see you all next week; if you think of a song between today and Monday, and it absolutely can’t wait, run it by your class representative and they’ll ask me if it will be okay.” Val couldn’t help but be amazed at the way Avery spoke to the assembled group; it was as if she were a normal person, with normal responsibilities and no hint of the abundant avarice Val knew was hidden just below the surface.

  Chapter 19

  Algebra was nearly always a tiresome way to start the day; Thursday’s class was no exception. Val found herself wishing the hour would be over; even though she didn’t want to deal with Porter’s silent treatment again, being outside was more fun than sitting inside listening to Miss Stevens lecture. The hour seemed to drag on, but finally the bell rang; Val felt like cheering.

  The team Mr. Sharp had paired against Val’s was better than the freshmen they’d faced Tuesday. Porter didn’t pass to Val, and after two trips down the field she got tired of it; “Should I just go sit down?” She asked angrily, “Because you obviously don’t need me.”

  “No we don’t,” Porter shot back, “And I’m not going to sabotage the game just because of your incessant need to be the center of attention.”

  “I don’t have an incessant need to be the center of attention!”

  Porter sighed and turned away from the football he’d been about to hike; “Yes you do. You’re an annoying brat.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Porter worked his jaw, “You’re just an attention whore, and you can’t play football worth a damn. It’s a wonder you’re on the soccer team; they probably let you on just to fill their dumb blonde quota.”

  Val swallowed back the tears coming to her eyes, “They didn’t,” she protested quietly.

  “Val, don’t you get it? I don’t care about you—no one here does. Why don’t you just go play with your retarded Gentry friends and leave us alone?”

  The words stung, even though Val told herself they weren’t true, “Porter, why are you being so mean?” The members of both teams had stopped play, and Val felt their eyes on her; mustn’t cry, she told herself.

  “Mean? I’m not being mean, I’m just being honest. The only reason I ever gave you a second look is because you threw yourself at me—‘Do you think I’m attractive, Porter?’” he mocked.

  Val couldn’t stop the tears from falling any longer; she sucked wind and stared at a patch of green grass. “I—I—“ she couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, she gave Porter a look that she hoped conveyed the depth of the hurt his words had caused, and then walked off the field. It took all of Val’s strength not to run, but she forced herself to keep a slow pace.

  “Whoa there,” Mr. Sharp jogged up, “What’s wrong, Blondie?”

  Val didn’t reply; she just kept walking till she hit the locker room, which was blissfully empty. She let all of her emotions fall; it’s not true, she kept telling herself, nothing he said was true.

  Val stayed there for what seemed an eternity. She finally got up when girls started filtering in from the class; “Hey, are you ok?” Ella asked, “I saw you leave.”

  “I guess, I just—“ Val shook her head, “I just needed to get out of there.”

  Ella nodded; they both finished changing and headed to their separate Homeroom classes.

  Dylan was there, “Sup, Longnose.”

  Val glared at the boy; she shook her head and went to her usual seat in the middle of the room.

  “What’s the problem, Longnose? Got your proboscis slammed in the door or something?” Dylan and Isaac laughed. I thought he’d be nicer since what happened on Friday, Val sighed; she knew she should have known better than to expect decent treatment from the boy.

  Aaliyah smiled at Val when she entered class; “Hey Val,” she said brightly, “How are you?”

  Val sighed, “Pretty bad.”

  “Oh dear! Why?”

  “Cause she hasn’t stuck her nose in anyone’s business for a while and it’s starting to affect her emotionally,” Dylan supplied.

  Aaliyah glared at him, “Yeah, cause Val’s smart enough not to pick fights she can’t win. Unlike you—or is your memory so bad that you’ve already forgotten about Friday night?”

  Dylan looked like he wanted to reply, but he thought better of it and hastily started a conversation with Isaac.

  “Jerk,” Aaliyah shook her head, “I can’t believe he’d be like that to you after what happened.”

  Val sighed, “I can.”

  “Yeah—I guess it is Dylan, after all.”

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  Aaliyah frowned, “So for real, why are you ‘pretty bad’?”

  Val shrugged, “You know Porter, right?” Aaliyah nodded; “He just said some really mean things.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s weird, he’s always seemed like a nice guy to me.” Aaliyah shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  Carrie arrived just before the bell; she sat next to Val.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Val pulled out her phone, “Alex wanted me to ask you guys if you want to go to his party on Friday.”

  “Another party? I’m still recovering from the last one—“ Aaliyah looked around to see if Dylan was listening, t
hen added, “And Dylan is too.”

  The joke evoked a weak giggle from Val, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’ll text you the details so you can make the choice either way.”

  “Cool. You’re going, though?” Aaliyah asked.

  “Yeah. Keenan and I are going together, and Porter’s driving us.”

  “Oh—oh,” Aaliyah frowned, “But that’ll be awkward, won’t it? Cause of—whatever he said?”

  Val nodded, “Yup, but I don’t really see any way out of it now.”

  “I don’t think I’ll go,” Carrie announced.

  “You won’t?” Aaliyah turned to face the brunette, “Why not?”

  Carrie shrugged, “I don’t think parties are really my thing. That last one was, just—I felt out of place the whole time. No offense, Aaliyah.”

  “None taken. You sure you don’t wanna go?”

  “Yeah. I have a lot of homework anyway.”

  Aaliyah returned her gaze to Val, “Well then it’s settled. I’m going.”

  “Why?” Val couldn’t help but ask; Aaliyah’s decision was obviously related to Carrie’s, but she couldn’t see how.

  “Cause I wanna tell Porter what I think of him being mean to you—it’d help if you tell me specifically what he said—“ Val’s friend trailed off.

  “He said that no one likes me and that he only liked me because I ‘threw myself at him’.”

  “Oh—well that’s just not true!” Aaliyah smiled warmly, “I like you, and Carrie likes you. As for that other part, if it’s true, it’s more of an insult to him than you.”

  “It is?”

  “Yeah. If he thought you were throwing yourself at him, any decent guy would have put a stop to it. He was dating that one senior the whole time, right?”

  “Avery,” Val nodded, “Yeah.”

  “Well there you have it,” Aaliyah leaned back in her desk, “If he was dating someone else, he shouldn’t have let you throw yourself at him—you know, if you really did.”

  “I didn’t think I did,” Val replied pensively.

  “I bet you didn’t. Boys are terrible at that—they see all sorts of signs where there aren’t any, and read way too much into like the most innocent conversations.”

  Val nodded.

  “Anyway, don’t you worry, I’ll tell him explicitly how much of a jerk he is—and to think, I used to have a crush on him.”

  “You did?”

  Aaliyah giggled, “Oh yeah. I mean, just a week ago I was thinking how lucky you were for being the only freshman girl he talked to.”

  “Lucky? Oh yeah, really lucky,” Val replied sarcastically. She looked at the room’s clock; it read 9:45. Only six minutes more of this class, and then Italian, Drawing, Lunch, Chemistry, NHS, and soccer. Val groaned.

  “What?” Aaliyah asked.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking about how much longer I have to be in school today.”

  The brown-eyed girl laughed, “Yeah, we’re not even halfway through.”

  “Yeah—I just want today to be over.”

  “Me too,” Aaliyah agreed, “This week’s been long.”

  Val nodded, “I couldn’t agree more.” The bell rang.

  “Well, hang in there,” Aaliyah said as she lifted her bag, “And if you see Porter again, kick him in the shins.”

  Val laughed, “Okay, I will.” Talking with her friend had made her feel a lot better; Porter was wrong, people here do like me. She walked with Carrie to their Italian class in near-silence; Val had no desire to make small-talk, and Carrie was not the type of girl to fill the silence.

  Italian class was taken up by the making of flash cards; Miss Wells had each student make their own, complete with pictures. Val spent a long time in their pictures—even though her artistry wasn’t spectacular, she judged that her representations of ‘brother’, ‘sister’, ‘old man’, and the other vocab words was sufficient, if a little juvenile. For family members Val had come up with the idea of drawing a family tree and circling specific members, an idea that Carrie praised and copied. “Hey,” the nerdy girl said, “I’m not opposed to using someone else’s ideas as long as they’re good.”

  The process of creating flash cards more than filled Val’s art quota for the day; in Drawing she pretended to work while having nothing conversations with Sophia and Miro. The lunch bell rang and, as had become her habit, Val was first out the door.

  She arrived in the cafeteria to find Jenny sitting in her spot. “Oh, hello, Valentina,” the pig-nosed girl greeted, “I was just saving you a seat.”

  “Oh, um, thanks,” Val murmured, accepting the seat across from Ella and Zoey; Sophia sat down beside her.

  “Don’t mention it. I was just telling our friends here all about how your mom got rich,” Jenny continued, “With that one—clasp thing? I heard it made a whole half a million dollars.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Val looked at the other girl warily.

  Jenny laughed; it was a mean laugh. “Oh dear, and how much did that mansion you moved into cost?”

  Val shrugged, “I dunno.”

  “I do,” Jenny replied excitedly, “It cost six-hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars, meaning—“ Jenny faked a sympathetic frown, “—that your family is practically bankrupt.”

  “So?”

  “Nothing—“ Jenny smiled, “I’m just saying, it makes sense now why you bring all your lunches from home.”

  “I bring my own lunches cause I don’t like the food here.”

  “Oh, sure,” Jenny winked, “It’s a great way to save a few dollars, I’ll give you that. It’s just, some of us don’t need to be quite so—tight—with our money.”

  Sophia grimaced, “Are you really poor, Val?”

  “I’m not poor; honestly, I don’t know how much money my parents have, but it was obviously enough to get me in here.”

  Jenny cleared her throat, “Was it? Or did the Principal just let you in cause you promised to date one of her sons?”

  “What? No! I mean—obviously not,” Val huffed.

  “Oh, then was it blowing her other son?” Jenny said crudely, “That was what you agreed on?”

  “What?” the Trio asked loudly; Val would have laughed at their asking the question in unison, except the situation was most definitely not funny.

  “Deary me, I thought you would have told your friends about that one, Val.” Jenny leaned across the table, “You mean you guys didn’t hear—that was why she was gone on Friday.”

  “I didn’t—we didn’t—“ Val stuttered.

  “Bu—but—“ Jenny mocked, “Don’t be a liar, Val. Own up to it. You stole Avery’s boyfriend and you should be proud.”

  “You mean—you did that with another guy, who was with another girl?” Sophia asked incredulously; she scooted away from Val.

  “No,” Val repeated, “We just ate lunch together! It was literally nothing.”

  “Come on girls, let’s sit somewhere less poor—and less skanky,” Jenny suggested; she got up, and the Trio followed her. Val ate the rest of her lunch in silence, filled with shock at what had just occurred.

  The next few hours were a blur; the Trio’s behavior at lunch only seemed to support Porter’s insults from earlier, and left Val feeling even worse than before. Keenan tried to joke with Val in Chemistry, but she was in no mood. “What’s up with you?” he finally asked, “You seem depressed.”

  “I’m not depressed, it’s just people here are mean.”

  “You mean the people here besides me?” Keenan laughed.

  Val shrugged, “Sure.”

  “Okay, Miss Frowney Face, tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’m just sad, okay?” The words came out angrier than Val intended.

  “Fine,” Keenan turned away from her. He didn’t talk the rest of the lesson; Val knew she had hurt his feelings.

  “I’m sorry,” Val apologized as they were leaving class, “I just—it hasn’t been a good day.”

  “I can tell,” Keenan repl
ied, “Oh well, you have our—fourth—date to look forward to tomorrow, right?”

  Val grimaced, “Yeah, sure.”

  “Why that expression? Aren’t you excited for Alex’s party?”

  “I guess. Have you asked Porter if he’s willing to drive us?”

  “Not yet, but I know he’ll be cool with it. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

  “I trust you,” Val tried to make it sound like she meant it; Keenan frowned, but didn’t press the issue.

  “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

  “Yup.” They parted ways; Keenan turned off for the main stairwell that led to Palm Lake’s exit, whereas Val headed to NHS. Derrick was already in the room, along with a half dozen others; Val waved at him and walked over.

  “Hey,” she said, unsure how Derrick would behave toward her.

  “Hey!” he replied brightly. When Val didn’t further the conversation, he filled the gap, “I heard what Porter said to you in Flag Football; I told him he was being a dick.”

  “Oh, thanks.” Val sighed, “Do you think he meant what he said, Derrick?”

  Derrick frowned and shook his head, “I think—I think that he was trying to get back Avery, and in his mind the only way to do that was to say what he said to you, knowing it would get back to her. It didn’t work though—Porter told me she was even worse to him than before.”

  “Why?” Val asked; anything that hurts me ought to make her happy.

  “I don’t know. If I had to guess—and this is only a guess—I’d say that she saw the way he treated you as proof that something happened. I mean, think about it; no one would go to that much trouble to act like they were over someone unless they felt like they had a lot to prove.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “I trust you, though, so I know that nothing happened—which is why I talked with Porter. This is about Avery’s trust issues; she was the one who blew this out of proportion. And dragging you into it is not only not fair, it’s—“ Derrick looked at Val with a soft expression, “Well, I just want you to know that you do have friends at Palm Lake, and not just guys who want to get with you, either. Contrary to what my blockhead of a friend might say.”