Just Your Average Box Set (Just Your Average Princess, Just Your Average Geek, & Just Your Average Celebrity)

by Kristina Springer

  “Your Cassie impersonation is so dead on,” I say. “But yeah. I believed them. Why shouldn’t I? Chris is a good guy, Lizzie—you know that. He wouldn’t cheat on me. He’s always been really thoughtful and wonderful to me. It’s not him. He loves me,” I add, partly to remind myself. I mean, just two weeks ago he bought me a birdie boyfriend for my pet parakeet, Baby. I’ve had Baby for a year and she is so sweet and beautiful with yellow and white feathers and a pink spot on her belly. One day Chris was in my room doing homework, door open of course per Mom’s rules, and he said Baby needed a birdie boyfriend. The next day he showed up with Chris Jr., a blue and yellow parakeet. Baby is still getting used to him being in her cage and I’m reserving judgment on Chris Jr. until Baby decides if she likes him or not. But Chris, the human, I know is a good person. He would never hurt me.

  “This is why I don’t date,” Lizzie says, popping the last piece of her pretzel into her mouth. “Too much B.S.”

  “That’s not why you don’t date. You don’t date because you’re waiting for Jacob to notice you, fall madly in love, and beg you to date him.” Which I don’t think is going to happen. I’m pretty sure Jacob knows Lizzie has a huge crush on him but he’s intimidated by the size of her instrument since he only plays the French horn to her tuba.

  A dreamy haze spreads across Lizzie’s eyes. “Jacob is yummy. And I’ve recently decided that my sitting-around-waiting-for-him-to-notice-me plan isn’t working as well as I’d like, so I’m going to come up with something a little more proactive.”

  “Oooh, what?” I say, happy for the temporary distraction from my own problems.

  “I’m not sure yet. I thought about just coming right out and asking him on a date, but I don’t know if that’s too forward. My plan is to make him mine before the Disney band trip. That way we’ll both have boyfriends and it will be the best trip ever!”

  “Yeah, that’d be great,” I agree. If Chris is still my boyfriend in four months. Stop! No negative thoughts. Of course Chris will still be my boyfriend. I can’t think that way.

  * * *

  It’s around 7:30 and I’m in my room hanging up the two new sweaters I bought at the mall. I spritz a little bit of the lilac body spray I bought on my wrist and smell it. It’s nice. I wonder if Chris will like it? I don’t wonder for long though–I hear my laptop dinging that I have an instant message. I walk over to my desk. It’s Chris. Why is he writing to me? Didn’t he say he’d call? I glance at Baby and she’s perched sweetly on her swing, looking back at me while Chris Jr. is flying around the cage like a spaz.

  ChrisDonnely4321: Hey, Babe.

  PrincessBrooke00: Hey. I thought you were calling me??

  ChrisDonnely4321: I was going to but my mom is on the phone. Don’t know how long she’ll be.

  Riiiight. He’s totally lying. He’s afraid to talk to me on the phone. Does he think it would suddenly slip my mind that he has his own phone, which he’s called me on about a million times. He doesn’t need to wait for his mom to get off her phone to talk to me. And he doesn’t need to message, he could text me. Then again if he could text he could call. Unless his batteries dead.

  PrincessBrooke00: Oh. Right. So what’s up?

  ChrisDonnely4321: Not much. Just doing homework and stuff.

  PrincessBrooke00: Me too.

  ChrisDonnely4321: Fun. So that was strange running into you at the mall today huh?

  Nice. So this is him trying to feel me out to see what I think about what happened. If I flip out at him, he’ll be all, “It was totally innocent” and “You don’t trust me” and I’ll look like a jealous girlfriend. Not to mention it will go against the BSC rules. Which are really starting to annoy me if I’m going to be honest. But, if I act like nothing is wrong, and he really IS innocent, then I’ll look like a good, trusting girlfriend. He’ll probably love me more for it.

  ChrisDonnely4321: U there?

  Whoops. I’m taking too long to answer him.

  PrincessBrooke00: Sorry. POS.

  Eh. Just a small lie. Neither one of my parents is hovering over my shoulder.

  ChrisDonnely4321: Take ur time.

  Gee thanks. I will. Ugh. This is so hard! I totally want to know what really went down today. I hated that feeling—that Cassie and Chris versus me feeling. Them sharing something.

  PrincessBrooke00: K. I’m back.

  ChrisDonnely4321: :-)

  I want to slap that stupid emoticon right off the laptop screen! Grrr. Okay. Play nice.

  PrincessBrooke00: I missed you this afternoon.

  ChrisDonnely4321: I missed you 2. But it’s good for you to get some girl time w/ Lizzie 2.

  Since when does Chris care if I get any girl time? Whatever.

  PrincessBrooke00: At least I saw you for a few minutes. That really was sweet of you to help Cassie like that.

  Ick! Blech! Spit, spit, spit! I can’t believe I just typed that. My fingers are puking all over the keyboard.

  ChrisDonnely4321: It was nothin. I got a new pair of drumsticks too.

  PrincessBrooke00: Cool! I got some clothes and body spray.

  ChrisDonnely4321: Mmm. Maybe I can check out your body spray 2morrow night? :-)

  Hmm. Well, this does seem like the same old Chris. He could have said he was busy doing something tomorrow night and then sneak out to see Cassie if he actually likes her. Maybe nothing really did happen? Maybe it was just like they said? He didn’t have to ask me to do something tomorrow. Am I stupid to feel relieved?

  PrincessBrooke00: Definitely. :-)

  ChrisDonnely4321: Cool. Want a ride in the am?

  PrincessBrooke00: Yes!

  ChrisDonnely4321: K. Be there @ 7. Love u.

  PrincessBrooke00: I love u 2.

  I shut down my Messenger and look over at Baby and Chris Jr., who is now sitting next to her on her stick. “What do you think Baby? I should trust him, right?”

  Baby flies off her stick and lands by the food.

  Chapter 7: Denial is Bliss

  Is it completely lame that I’m totally happy this morning? Chris picked me up for school and we stopped for breakfast at Mickey D’s. Okay, we didn’t actually go in and eat anything—just sat in the car and made out. But everything felt normal again. It was the old Chris and the old Brooke. Together. I didn’t feel like there was a giant Cassie looming over our relationship waiting to pounce. Chris is 100% totally into only me. All through band practice this morning, he kept giving me cute little winks. And he hugged me or slapped me on the butt any time I walked by. Thank God for normalcy again.

  Plus the pink scarf is really changing things for me. Even Lizzie pointed it out during Chemistry class when we were supposed to be working on our lab. People are noticing me. People that never used to look at me twice are stopping to tell me my shoes are cute or they like my haircut. Which is kind of strange since I haven’t had a haircut in over a month but hey, I’m not knocking any good vibes sent my way.

  It’s so hard not spilling absolutely everything to Lizzie about Boy Swap and Cassie. I know she knows something is up. At different times, I’ll catch her looking at me quizzically, like she’s trying to solve a math equation. Brooke + pink scarf = Cassie + Chris +/- Brooke (depending on the day). But she’s not saying anything. Yet anyway. During band practice this morning, she did tell me that she understands that I want to trust Chris and we’re in love and all that, but as my best friend, she’s committed to watching my back so she will be on Cassie patrol from now on. Which I really wish she wouldn’t. Like I need a daily report on how many times Cassie hits on Chris. I wonder how the other girls in BSC deal with this?

  * * *

  It’s 4th period gym and me and the other fifteen girls in my class are sitting in our assigned spots on the floor, waiting for our gym teacher, Coach Brown, to announce today’s activity.

  “Listen up girls,” he says, clutching his clipboard and waiting for the chatter to die down. “We’ll be playing with the guys today. The game: kickball.”


  A few of the girls groan. No one really likes playing kickball with the guys. They take way too much pleasure in tagging us out before we reach a base.

  “There will be two captains,” he continues. “Coach Dearborn will pick the guy’s captain and I’ll pick,” he looks around the room and his eyes settle on Missy Stevens, a 5’10” Malibu Barbie look alike (seriously, she part-times as a Malibu Barbie impersonator at the toy store in the mall. The little girls love her. As do boys of all ages. Sigh.). “Missy.”

  A few of the girls roll their eyes but most stare happily at Missy, hoping to be picked first. This is a surprise to none as Coach Brown picks Missy for team captain every single time. It’s like his male brain can’t see past her four feet of spray-tanned legs and short shorts. I settle comfortably into my spot—I’m generally picked last or near to last. Which I guess I can understand. While I’m in pretty good shape from my nightly work outs in my mom’s home gym, I suck at every sport invented by man. Name the sport and I’ll cost your team five points with one foul-up or another.

  “Alright girls, group up,” Coach Brown says. “Let’s name the teams. Dearborn,” he shouts to the other gym teacher. “You got your captain?”

  “Yeah,” Coach Dearborn replies. “Donnely’s the captain.”

  Yes! My heart speeds up. Chris is the other team’s captain! He’ll definitely pick me first. Love is greater than kickball. I look over at Chris and blow him a kiss. He grins and joins Missy in the middle of the gym.

  “Alright. Ladies first,” Coach Dearborn says.

  Missy bats her eyelashes at him. Coach Dearborn almost drops his clipboard. Like I said, boys of all ages like Missy.

  “Remember,” Coach Brown says. “Eight guys and eight girls on each team.”

  “Okay,” Missy says, looking over first the guys and then the girls. “Hmmm…I’ll pick…Brooke,” she says, her eyes settling on me.

  “Me?” I say.

  “Her?” Coach Brown says.

  “Really?” Chris says, looking at Missy in shock.

  “Uh, yeah,” Missy says, slightly annoyed that people are questioning her infinite kickball team-picking skills. “Come on, Brooke.” She points to the spot next to her.

  I stand up and slowly walk toward Missy. Why on earth would she pick me? I didn’t think she even liked me. I join Missy in the center of the gym and give her a tentative smile. And then I see it. She has a pink scarf tied around her ankle, barely peeking out from under her white gym sock. BSC. Membership does have its perks. I stand up there next to Missy, bubbling with glory, as she and Chris pick the rest of the teams.

  The game starts and yes, I still really suck at team sports. No matter how hard I try, I keep missing the ball when I’m up to kick. But it doesn’t matter. Now that Missy has given me her Barbie nod of approval, everyone is being nicer to me. Even Coach Brown. He says the other team is rolling me bad balls and tells me to take first base. My first time getting on a base! Some of the girls on the other team even clap for me to show good sportsmanship. And they tell Jason Jennings, the guy throwing for Chris’s team, to work on his throws. He glares at them and mumbles some curse words. Chris gives me an impressed look. I can tell he doesn’t get what’s happening, but whatever it is, it’s turning him on.

  Our team wins 5-4, with one of those points being mine. I’m feeling a bit giddy as I head toward the locker room to change back into my school clothes.

  “Hey, Brooke, wait up,” Missy says.

  I stop and wait for Missy to join me. A few of the other girls see me waiting for her and give me jealous looks. I love it.

  “Hey,” I say as she reaches me and we walk slowly toward the locker room. “Thanks for picking me today. That was fun.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she says with a shrug. “We have to stick together, right?”

  I nod in agreement.

  Missy looks around quickly to make sure no one can hear us and then says in a lowered voice, “So, how are you doing with all of the BSC stuff?”

  “Um…okay. I guess,” I say, happy that finally someone from the club is willing to talk to me about it.

  “I know it is a bit rough when you first join,” she says wisely. “It takes a little getting used to.”

  “How long have you been in it?” I ask.

  “Oh, since freshman year.”

  “Freshman year!? So it has been going on for three years?” I say, doing the math.

  “Four, actually,” she replies. “Cassie and Caitlyn started it when they were freshman. It’s totally huge. But that’s a good thing. Gives us more variety.”

  “Wow. Do you mind if I ask you a question?” I venture, since Missy has been so sweet and open thus far.

  “Sure,” she says, stopping us outside of the locker room so we can talk privately.

  I lean against the concrete wall. “Here’s the thing. How do you deal with other girls dating your boyfriend? When I first signed up I thought oh, it is just some harmless flirting. But, well, it’s kinda sucky to see Chris with another girl.”

  “You mean Cassie?” she says.

  I nod.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get through it. You have to like, think of the long haul. Chris is right now but BSC is for life.”

  My eyes get huge as I picture BSC members still following me fifteen years from now with a husband and a baby and some blond BSC member stopping by the house to flirt with my man while I’m changing a diaper.

  “Relax,” Missy says with a laugh, as if she can read my mind. “I mean high school life. Not forever life.”

  Phew.

  “I hear what you’re saying.” I sigh. “It’s just that Chris is special. I love him.”

  “That’s your first mistake.” Missy looks around to make sure no one is listening. “And don’t let anyone hear you say that. Rule #4 is to never fall in love with any guy in the swap.”

  “But I was already in love with Chris when I joined,” I protest, hoping for some kind of Grandfather Clause.

  Missy shakes her head. “Hmm. That’s a tough one. You’ll have to work it out. Come on, let’s change and get to lunch. Do you want to sit at my table today?”

  Do I? Heck yes!

  Chapter 8: Sex, Sex, Sex

  It’s 7 p.m. and I’m waiting for Chris to pick me up. I hope he hurries since I can only stay out until 10 on school nights. The doorbell rings and Mom gets to the door first.

  “Hi, Chris,” she says, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Are you hungry? Do you want a sandwich or something?” I swear my mom is on a one-woman Feed the World campaign. No one leaves the Thomas’ house without a sandwich in hand.

  “Not today, Mrs. Thomas. But thanks,” Chris says. My mom totally eats it up. She thinks Chris is so perfect. “Ready?” he says to me.

  I nod and we walk out to his car. “So what do you want to do tonight?”

  “How about we go hang out at my house?” he asks.

  Which can only mean one thing—his parents aren’t home.

  “Oh,” I say, stalling, trying to come up with a better plan. “Um…are you sure you don’t want that sandwich? I can still run in and get it. I think my mom just bought lunch meat today.” That was totally lame. But I didn’t have time to think of something better.

  Chris looks at me curiously. “No sandwiches. I promise I’ll buy you one later if you really want one,” he teases. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Shoot. It’s not that I don’t value the alone time with Chris, because I really do. I’m just not in the mood for another “Why can’t we have sex?” fight.

  We get to Chris’s house and he leads me straight to the couch in his basement. The basement is a sort of one-room apartment for Chris. His bed is in here, a desk, a dresser, a ping-pong table, a couch, a TV, a book shelf, and a mini-fridge. He flips on the TV and grabs a DVD off the shelf. He doesn’t even look at the cover but I can see he’s holding You’ve Got Mail—one of my favorites. He pops it in and heads back to the couch.

  The mov
ie starts and I say, “Oooh, I love You’ve Got Mail,” hoping to slow him down just a bit.

  “Really?” he says, sounding a bit surprised as he puts an arm around me and leans in to kiss me. We kiss for a moment and then I pull back.

  “What? Don’t you like it? It’s in your collection.”

  “Oh. It’s my mom’s I think. Or my sister’s. I just grabbed the first thing.” He leans back in and starts kissing my neck and unfastening my bra at the same time. Why is it that he can unfasten my bra so much faster than I can? We start making out and I get caught up in it for a while. Chris is an excellent kisser. Soon my heart is beating and the heat is making it hard to breathe in. When I feel the top button of my jeans open, I push him off of me.

  “Chris, wait,” I say.

  “What?” he mumbles and tries to kiss my neck again.

  “I’m serious. Hold on,” I say louder.

  “Jesus, Brooke!” he says. “What the hell is your problem?” His face is flushed and his eyes are way angry.

  I don’t say anything. I can’t believe he just swore at me.

  “You know what the problem is,” I finally say in a low voice, trying to put my bra back on.

  “I don’t get your deal,” he says, obviously pissed.

  And I’m starting to get pissed too. “Well, I don’t get your deal.”

  “Why are you being so cold lately?” he says in an accusatory voice.

  “Me? I’m not being cold. I told you over and over that I’m not ready to have sex with you yet. Why do you keep pushing so hard?”

  “What’s the big freaking deal? I mean seriously. I thought you loved me.”

  “I’m sorry, when did this turn from a date to a Lifetime movie? Next are you going to say, ‘If I loved you I’d have sex with you?’”

  “Yeah. Real funny, Brooke.” He stands and stomps up the stairs.