So now onto my list. I have to come up with a bunch of ideas to get Carter’s attention and more importantly, go on a date with me.
STEP 2: RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT
1)Develop a plan to get Carter to date me.
a)Carter works out in the school’s weight room before first hour. Start working out at the same time. Wear cute outfits.
b)Talk to Carter in English class. Change seats so I’m in the row next to him and strike up conversations about poetry.
c)Sometime next week, wear my old Dave Matthews Band t-shirt from concert I went to in eighth grade. T-shirt is a little tight. Wear with Turbolifter 3000.
d)Mention loudly in English class or in weightlifting room that my dad is getting pay-per-view WWF all day Saturday on our big screen flat-panel.
e)Buy a video game magazine and pretend to read it in class. Make sure he can see cover.
I think that is a good start for now. I can keep adding to the list if all of these options bomb. It’s time for action:
STEP 3: GET DATE WITH CARTER JONES.
* * *
Shoot. I blew my first plan of action for today. The original plan was to get up early and have my mom drop me off at school so I could work out with Carter in the weight room. But I woke up too late and my mom had already left for work. So Chris is giving me a ride. And it isn’t like I could ask him to come early and drop me off at school to work out. He’d know something was up. But all is not lost. I found my old concert shirt and I have it on today with my new bra and a really cute pair of fitted jeans.
Chris turns off the engine and I reach into the backseat to gather my stuff.
“Hey,” he says, “we have a minute. Hold on.”
Oh. I know what that means. “Um…” I glance at the time on his dashboard clock. “We only have like five minutes before the first hour bell rings.”
“That’s more than enough time,” he says, moving closer to me and putting his arm around my neck.
Obviously Chris is feeling like his normal self again. Too bad I’m not. But there isn’t much I can do at the moment. So I let him kiss me a few times. Although I pretend I’m kissing Carter. Just for practice. I’m warming up to the idea of kissing Carter more and more as I learn about him. He seems really cool. Much too cool for Cassie. And he’s so freakin’ hot.
“Hmm…I guess we better go now,” Chris says a few minutes later, pulling away and gathering up his school stuff.
I blink at him a couple of times and then look down at my stuff. “Yeah, let’s go.”
We walk into school and toward the band room. Chris chats away the whole time about the new rock band he and a couple of his friends are forming. Chris on drums, Freddie Duffy on Bass, and Sean Hanson on lead guitar/vocals. The tentative band name? Thank you for Not Smoking. Weirdness. Each time Chris and I get into one of these totally normal everyday conversations, I can’t help thinking, what’s his deal? Is he just incredibly dense? Does he still think I don’t know about him and Cassie? Or does he know that I know and he just doesn’t care? That would be way cocky of him if that was the case. Maybe this is all my fault because I joined the club? I dangled temptation in front of Chris. But he wasn’t supposed to take it! So really, he is the one in the wrong. He should have felt strongly enough about me not to be lured away by other girls. I shouldn’t feel bad about any of this. Right?
I leave Chris at the percussion section and head for my band locker to put my coat away since we aren’t going outside for practice today. Lizzie is standing at her locker a few feet away from mine.
“Hey, Lizzie,” I say, slipping my coat off my shoulders.
“Hey, Br—…HOLY BOOBAGE BATGIRL!” she yells, staring straight at my chest.
I look left and right to see if anyone heard her. “Shh!”
“Jesus, Brooke, your chest is enormous! And why are you wearing that old shirt? Isn’t that from the concert we went to, God, when was it? Years ago.”
“Yeah. It’s kinda old. So what?” I say with a shrug.
“So what?” she repeats. “Did you get a drive-thru boob job yesterday or something? You weren’t this big when we went bowling Saturday.” She leans in to get a closer look at my chest.
“Stop looking at my boobs, you!” I shoo her away with my hand.
“It’s kinda hard,” she says, “they keep poking me in the eyes.”
“Oh puh-lease!” I walk toward the locker room door. “Are you coming?” I say over my shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, catching up. “Your giant boobs can lead the way.”
We walk into the band room and head toward our seats. I glance in Mr. Shank’s office window to see my reflection. Are my boobs really that noticeable? Or is Lizzie just being a spaz? I take my seat and assemble my flute on my lap. Rayne sits next to me with a giant grin.
“Hey, Brooke,” she says.
“Hey, Rayne,” I say, returning a less dramatic smile.
Rayne chuckles to herself and sits down. I scan the room, waiting for Mr. Shank to enter and begin practice. People are staring at me. At least the guys. Pretty much all of them. Some of the girls are giving me questioning looks. I look up at Chris, who had been banging out a practice beat on his drum set. He is staring at me too—jaw dropped. He’s looking directly at my chest. He finally looks up and meets my eyes. He looks kind of…pissed? Which is pretty strange. Usually guys like boobs. But then I see him look around the room. Ah…he’s noticing all the other guys noticing me. Hmm…I don’t think he likes it. Ha! Well, too bad. I have to say, the Turbolifter 3000 rocks. I hope Carter likes it next period.
After band practice, I quickly put my flute away and race to get out of the room before Chris can stop me. I see him rushing to put away his drum set too, but he has more pieces and there is no way he can finish by the time I hit the door.
“Brooke! Wait!” he says as I fly past him.
“Can’t.” I say with a wave and an air kiss. “Have to get to English early today.”
His forehead is all wrinkled and I can tell he’s mad I didn’t stop. Oh well.
I stop off at my locker before class to grab my English book and notebook. As I walk through the hallway toward the classroom I feel more people staring at me and smiling. The pink scarf definitely boosted my popularity with the girls but this bra is boosting it with the guys. I’m totally going to write the company a thank you letter later.
I take a seat in English, this time the seat diagonal from Carter, to the back left of him. I was going to take the one directly next to him but I thought that would be too obvious. And it isn’t like he won’t see me here when he walks down the aisle to his seat.
I place my books on my desk, sit up straight, and arch my back, waiting for Carter to come into class. I see Cassie walk him to the door and stand up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. She peers into the classroom and sees me and my big boobs sitting near Carter’s regular seat. She takes in my new haircut and sculpted eyebrows and I see her own little perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrow. I can’t resist. I put on my brightest smile and give a little wave. She looks at Carter’s retreating back and then stares at me and frowns.
Yes! How does it feel Cassie?
It’s like I’m suddenly a possessed woman. I see Cassie still lingering in the doorway and Carter coming down the aisle at me. “Hi, Carter,” I say as flirtatiously as humanly possible. Cassie’s eyes widen, she turns on her high heel, and stomps off down the hallway. Victory! Brooke- 1, Cassie- 0. Today, anyway.
“Hey…Brooke,” Carter says, directly staring at my boobs. But his stare is different from the other boys. He’s reading my concert T-shirt, which thankfully has the words “Dave Matthews Band” written straight across the chest. He tilts his head a bit, stopping before my desk.
I sit up even straighter.
“Hey,” he says again, “I went to that concert.”
“Really? Cool,” I say. “I LOVE Dave Matthews Band.”
“Me too,” he says, sliding into his seat. “
That was actually my first concert.”
“Mine too,” I say. Which is totally true. It was the first time Lizzie and my parents let us go to a concert on our own. They drove us there and sat at a restaurant while we were at the concert, but we were on our own for the duration. It was so fun.
Mrs. Miller starts class and I feel all smiley on the inside. I can feel my plan to get a date with Carter working. We’ve already established common ground and he seems friendly toward me. This Boy Swap stuff is kind of fun, when I’m the one doing the swapping.
Chapter 14: Sisterly Advice
I’m crouched down, gathering my Chemistry books out of my locker, when I feel something fall on my back. “What the—?” I twist around to see who is behind me.
“Here,” Chris says, “This looks good on you.”
Interesting. Chris has put his old stinky jean jacket on me. “No thanks, Chris. I’m not cold.” I try to shrug it off but he stops me.
“No really. I want you to wear it,” he says.
“Well, I really don’t want to wear it,” I return.
“Brooke…” he says, raising his eyebrows, just like my dad does right before I’m about to get slammed with a lecture.
“Chris…” I say, imitating his look.
He sighs and glances around the hallway. “Please wear it. It would mean a lot to me,” he says, softening his voice.
Yeah right, because ratty old jean jackets are the new promise rings. He’s just trying to cover up my chest. What a drama king. I mean seriously. Cassie walks around with boobs this big every day and he doesn’t have a problem with it. Whatever.
I nod. “Fine, fine. I’ll wear it. Since it means so much to you and all,” I add sarcastically. But my sarcasm whooshes right by him. I put my arms into the sleeves and return to getting my books together.
Chris gives me a victorious grin, kisses the top of my head, and walks down the hallway to his next class.
Soon as he’s out of sight, I tear of the jacket and whip it into my locker. “Whatever,” I mumble and head off for class.
I’m actually glad I wore my Dave Matthews Band shirt today. Apparently there are a lot of closet Dave Matthews Band fans. Who knew? Several people have stopped me and commented how they love the band and a few are even talking about getting a group together to go to a concert. I’m not even sure that they are still touring, but if they are, I can totally ask Carter to go and tell Chris I have a “family dinner” that night.
After math class, I find another folded note in my locker. This one says, “4 p.m., Bookends Bookstore, Travel section. Let’s chat.” Ha. Yeah, right. Gee, I wonder what Cassie wants to chat about. I’m about to crumple it up when I decide, no, I’ll write her back this time. I take a pen out of my purse and scribble on the bottom, “Can’t. Dentist appointment.” There. I feel like skipping to Cassie’s locker in the senior hallway but decide to just walk quickly to it and shove the paper into one of the slots at the top of her locker.
This is awesome. I’m like a whole new, non-nerdy, big busted, brave Brooke. Standing up to the oh so popular Cassie. What could she have to say to me anyway? Does she want to tell me to stay away from Carter? Well she can’t do that, per her own rules.
We spend the duration of French class taking turns ordering food in pairs from a pretend café in French. I keep ordering a croissant and café au lait each time it’s my turn and Madame Barton doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just doesn’t care. Our assignment for next week is to make our own café menu. Which actually sounds kinda fun. I’m only serving croissants and café au lait at my café though.
The final school bell rings and I’m ready to head home. Carrying around such a big chest is kinda hard. Even though I know it’s only water or some kind of funky solution inside the bra cups that makes my chest so big, it actually is hurting my back.
I head for my locker and just before I reach it, I stop dead in my tracks. Cassie is waiting for me. I look around, trying to find an escape route, but she’s already spotted me. Shoot. What is she doing? She’s not going to try and talk BSC business out in the open like this, is she?
“Hi, Brooke,” Cassie sings as I approach my locker.
“Hey, Cassie,” I say.
“Got a minute?”
“Not really. If I miss the bus, I’m screwed. My mom is waiting for me at home and then it’s off to that dentist appointment.” I mentally cross my fingers.
“Then I’ll walk you to the bus. Come on.”
Ugh. Fine. “Okay,” I say in the cheeriest voice I can muster. I drop my French books in my locker and grab the books I need for tonight’s homework. “Ready.”
Cassie and I walk down the hallway toward the front doors. She’s smiling, nodding, and occasionally giving a wave to just about everyone in the hallway. Everyone who is not at nerd status, that is. Hmph. I can do that too. I start nodding and waving myself. And people are responding with a wave or a “Hey, Brooke” back. We must look like we are in a parade minus the float. I wish I had some candy to throw. Cassie gives me a sideways glance and twitches her nose. She probably thinks I’m making fun of her. Ha.
I push open one of the heavy school doors and hold it open for Cassie to pass. We walk through the grass in the direction of the busses and she finally speaks.
“So Brooke, I just wanted to know, how are you doing?” Cassie says, feigning concern.
“Fantastic.”
“Really?” she asks, stopping abruptly mid-lawn and turning to look at me. “You can tell me, Brooke. We’re sisters.” She places one hand on my forearm and turns her perfectly pink shaded lips down in a slight frown.
She’s still singing that “Sisters” tune, huh? This would almost be touching if I believed her.
“Really, Cassie, I’m absolutely fantastic! Super, super happy,” I give her a big toothy grin.
“Oh, Brooke.” She shakes her head and keeps the frown firmly in place. “I wish you’d trust me. I know it must be so difficult watching Chris and I date. I mean, having your boyfriend want me so badly has to sting. I wish there was something I could do to make this transition easier on you.”
Oooh. The little witch! Well, she’s not going to rattle me.
“You know, Cassie, you’d think it would bother me but it really doesn’t. In fact, I love Boy Swap. I mean, having this access to dating so many fabulous guys is just incredible. I actually already have my sights on one very, very sexy guy.”
She narrows her eyes and sucks her teeth, undoubtedly trying to come up with a snappy reply. “I just don’t know. Maybe Delaney was right.”
My eyes burn at her name and my smile disappears. “About what?” I tentatively ask.
She looks like she’s considering whether or not to tell me. “Well, she had a lot of reservations. Delaney didn’t want us to ask you into the club.”
Of course.
“She thought you weren’t cool enough to hang in BSC,” Cassie continues. “She said you were a loser and never could be popular.”
Ouch. I’m stunned silent. That hurts. I sort of want to curl up in a ball and cry. These girls are so mean. I should tell her she’s right and drop out of BSC right this very minute.
“But I didn’t agree,” Cassie quickly adds. “I thought you would totally fit in. I suppose I could have been wrong. There’s always a first time…” she trails off.
My back stiffens. You know what? Screw Delaney. And screw Cassie. They’re not going to put me in my place and make me feel bad about myself. I can do this. I already have a plan. I can stick to it. I fix a smile on my face. “You weren’t wrong, Cassie. I can totally handle this.”
“Yeah?” she asks. “Good. But you know, Brooke, you really should be careful. Most girls don’t try to attempt a swap in the first few months of being a member. Swapping,” she says, pausing and rubbing her thumb and fingers of her right hand together in the air like she is putting together the perfect combination of words, “takes a certain set of skills. You don’t want to embarrass yo
urself and be rejected again and again.” She widens her eyes on the last “again.”
I arch my back, sticking my chest out as far as I can. “I’m not worried about being rejected.”
She glances at my chest and then looks off to the left side, pinching her lips together.
I flip open my phone and glance at the time. “Oooh, I’ve really gotta run. I don’t want to miss my bus. Later, Sis.” I air kiss her cheek and jog to my bus before she can say anything else.
Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I just air-kissed Cassie Deegan. What has gotten into me? Whatever it is, I think I like it.
Chapter 15: On with the Plan
I’m sitting in my new favorite class, English, waiting for the rest of the students to file in. I carefully unfold my checklist inside my English book and re-read it for the fifth time this morning:
_ Work-out in weight room.
X Move seats in English class.
_ Start poetry conversation.
X Wear Dave Matthews concert t-shirt.
_ Mention pay-per-view wrestling on Sat.
_ Read video mag in class.
I’ve got a good start on the list. Two out of six isn’t bad. And I totally meant to wake up early and work out in the school weight room with Carter this morning but once again, I overslept. Maybe my mind is subconsciously telling me I am not meant to hold heavy weights over my head.
Just Your Average Box Set (Just Your Average Princess, Just Your Average Geek, & Just Your Average Celebrity) Page 21
