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

by Kristina Springer

  “Well…Shannon told me today that she and her mom were out in Apple Grove last night. At a doctor’s appointment or something.” She pauses.

  I nod. “And…?”

  “And then I guess they stopped somewhere to have dinner and when they were walking in…” Lizzie looks at my face and frowns.

  “Just tell me, Lizzie.”

  “She said she saw Chris and Cassie going out to his car with a doggie bag. So they had just finished dinner,” she adds quickly. Like I couldn’t draw that conclusion myself.

  I nod again. That only confirms what I already thought—Chris had a date with Cassie last night.

  “Are you mad?” Lizzie asks in a low voice. Like she’s bracing herself for my explosive reaction. Which isn’t going to happen.

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “It could just be another one of those strange coincidences…like that day at the mall,” Lizzie offers.

  Ha! Yeah, no. It’s not a coincidence.

  “Do you want to call and yell at him or something?” she asks.

  “Nah,” I say.

  “Really?” Her mouth drops open in surprise.

  “Chris is a big boy. If he wants to go dinner with Cassie, then whatever. I don’t care.”

  “Wow,” she says. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

  “Yeah, well. Hey, listen, would you mind grabbing a bag of popcorn out of our pantry and popping it for us so I can send a super quick e-mail?” I say.

  Lizzie gives me a nod and a tight smile. I know she must think I’m going to write a chewing out e-mail to Chris but he is so not going to be in my sent items tonight.

  Soon as Lizzie walks out of my room, I sit down at my computer and launch my e-mail program.

  To: tinman99@funmail.com

  From: PrincessBrooke@funmail.com

  Re: Saturday morning

  Hey Carter,

  Any chance you can meet me for a latte tomorrow morning? Say 10-ish at that same Bookends café? I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.

  -Brooke

  Send. Okay, it’s done. Tomorrow morning, I am asking him out.

  Chapter 23: See You Latte

  It took me thirty minutes to put together my outfit this morning. I wanted something that said cute, fun, and sexy. Not safe, friend, homework buddy. I went with a fitted pale pink collar shirt open at the neck and my Seven jeans with my BSC scarf tied through my belt loops. I pulled my bangs back with a few bobby pins, trying for a wispy, sexy look, and applied shimmery brown eye shadow and liner, hoping it made my blue eyes look bigger. I finished off with a light coat of my pink Clinique lipstick that the girl at the counter swore was my shade. I would have woke Lizzie up and asked for her help but then she would have wanted to know why and where I was going. Luckily, she sleeps like a hibernating bear, so I left her a note that said I was running out for coffee and I’d be back soon.

  At the café, I order two lattes and sit at the same table where we worked on our project. It might be stupid but I’m hoping it gives me some kind of luck. I glance at my cell phone, 10:01, and then the door. Okay, so he’s a little bit late. No biggie. I take a tiny sip of my latte and my right leg shakes nervously under the table.

  The café is pretty empty this morning. There are two old guys reading the paper on the couch and a woman with a baby in a stroller, leafing through a Star magazine and sipping on her drink. Even the coffee guy is bored—he’s refilling the magazine rack to pass the time instead of standing behind the big red espresso machine waiting for customers.

  Five more minutes go by and still no Carter. I wonder if Cassie did see my e-mail and deleted it? Or, worse, Carter saw it and blew it off. My heart sinks at the thought of the latter. Maybe this is a stupid idea. Maybe I should just go home.

  Ah crap. Delaney just walked into the bookstore. What’s she doing here? I doubt she reads. Ugh, she spotted me. I put my head in my hand and pretend like I’m fascinated by the words written across the table. I’m just going to ignore her. It’s worked well for us for so long. I sneak a glance at her. Oh nuts, she’s headed straight for me.

  “Can I sit down?” Delaney asks.

  I shrug.

  She stiffly takes a seat and we don’t say anything for a few moments. There are tons of things I want to say like, how did you become so stuck up? How could you ditch me like that in junior high? And do you still have my High School Musical DVD set that I left in your bedroom forever ago but never got up the nerve to ask for? But I don’t say any of that. All I say is, “Do you want something? I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.” If he shows up, that is. I scan the room again. No Carter.

  “Brooke,” Delaney begins cautiously, “I know we haven’t been friends in a long time.”

  “Ha!” I say.

  Delaney is briefly startled and then continues. “And I know that’s on me and there’s no point in rehashing the past.”

  Rehash? We never hashed in the first place.

  “My point is that I’m concerned for you,” Delaney finally gets out.

  “Oh please,” I snap.

  “I am,” she insists. “It’s just, don’t mess with Cassie. You shouldn’t even be in the BSC. The club is…” She bites her lip and looks off to the side.

  “You know what?” I abruptly say, “I’m sick of everyone telling me what I can and can’t handle. I know what I’m doing and I can handle Cassie. How about you worry about you and I’ll worry about me. It’s worked for us so far, right?” I don’t wait for her to answer. “If there’s nothing else, I have a date.”

  Delaney looks flustered but it feels good to stand up to her. She doesn’t say another word. Just purses her lips, stands up, and leaves.

  I take a deep breath. I’m a little shaken up from that scene and I need to regain my composure before Carter gets here. If he does at all that is.

  A few more minutes pass and I’m ready to call it quits. I feel totally stupid sitting here by myself. He isn’t coming. I don’t know why I thought he would. Or why I thought there was some kind of connection between us. Obviously the connection is one-sided. I stand up and wipe the pieces of napkin I had been tearing up into my right palm and scan the café for a garbage can.

  “Hey! Sorry I’m late.” Carter is walking toward me with a big smile on his face. He looks like he just got out of the shower, and when he approaches our table, I can smell the Irish Spring soap on his skin. Relief washes over me. He actually came. Not even five seconds later, my relief is replaced with a million butterflies. Ohmigod, this is it.

  “No biggie,” I say, like I’m oh so calm when really I may explode at any second. “Sit, drink. I’ll be back in a sec—just want to toss out this trash.” I walk slowly to the garbage can by the door, steeling my nerves for what I’m about to do. I wipe the napkin bits into the trash and look back. Carter is turned around in his chair watching me. Him checking me out is a good sign. This might not be so bad.

  I sit down across from Carter and smile. “So thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I just really wanted to talk to you.” I take a slow sip of my drink. Wow. Listen to me sounding all smooth. Maybe I am picking up some things from Boy Swap.

  “Sure.” He flexes both of his hands out on the table and then folds them together.

  Is he nervous too?

  “So what’s up?” he asks.

  Breathe. This is it. “Well, how should I say this?” I ask, more to myself than to him. I guess fast like ripping off a Band-Aid would be best. Before I have a chance to wimp out again. I pull at the silver heart locket around my neck, trying to put together the words. “Okay, basically, I really like you, Carter. I had a great time working with you this past week and I love talking with you and spending time with you and I was hoping it didn’t have to end just because our project is over.” I can feel myself talking really fast, like a runaway train, but I can’t pull the brakes now. “So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was kind of hoping that maybe you
felt something similar and that you might want to, I don’t know, like, go on a date some time? With me?”

  There. I did it. I want to put my hands over my eyes and hide but I can’t tear my eyes away from his. I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he digests everything I just spewed at him. Well, he didn’t run away from the table screaming so we have a good start here.

  “Brooke,” he begins.

  Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound like a lead-up to a, “yeah sure.”

  “I like talking and spending time with you too. It’s been cool getting to know you this past week. But…”

  There it is. The “but.” The part where the guy tells the girl to hit the road. “I know, I know, ‘you’re just not that into me,’ right?” I say, quoting the Sex in the City writer guy who made that line famous.

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” he says. “You’re really smart, and funny, and beautiful…”

  I can feel my cheeks redden. He thinks I’m beautiful.

  “And I totally would be into you,” he pauses briefly, “if I wasn’t into somebody else.”

  Ouch. There it is. “Cassie?” I ask, like I’m not already completely aware that he’s been dating her for a million and a half years.

  He nods. “We’ve been together for a long time and I just wouldn’t feel right cheating on her.”

  Ack! The irony is too much. He wouldn’t feel right cheating on her. She probably hasn’t been faithful to him for more than two minutes of their entire relationship but he’s staying faithful to her.

  We’re both silent for a moment until I can finally speak. “I understand. You’re a good guy, Carter.”

  He shrugs. He doesn’t look too happy about being a good guy at the moment.

  “Well, I had to give it a try, huh?” I say, trying to laugh it off. I gather up my stuff, like I suddenly have somewhere I need to be. I stand up and Carter grabs my hand. My skin instantly tingles from his touch. How does he not feel the tingles too? I feel my face growing redder and I look toward the door to avoid looking at him.

  “Hey,” he says softly. “Can we still be friends?” He rubs his thumb gently across my fingers.

  Not the “Can we be friends?” thing. In other words, can we pretend that we will be friends but really never talk again and just be awkward around each other?

  “Sure,” I say. “Why not?” I reluctantly take my hand back and walk out of the café and down the sidewalk that winds around the building. I’m not sure why but I peek into the café window and see Carter still sitting at the table, leaning on his palms.

  * * *

  “Where’s the coffee?” Lizzie asks, sitting up on the bed when I walk into my room.

  Ah shoot. I forgot to bring back lattes. “I was thinking Oreo cookies and cookie dough ice cream sounded better for breakfast. What do you think?”

  “Yum,” she says, actually looking happy for the first time in three days.

  “Be right back,” I say.

  Lizzie leans back onto my pillows and clicks on the TV to Saturday morning cartoons. As I’m backing out the door, she looks up at me again and gives a half smile. “Brooke, it’ll be all right. We still have each other.”

  I nod and leave the room. I know she thinks I’m still upset about Chris and I’m going to let her go ahead and think that. It’s not like I can tell her what just happened anyway. I’m not even sure what I’m so upset about. Is it that I couldn’t get a swap and get back at Cassie? Is it because Delaney’s right and I’m too big of a loser to hang with the popular crowd? Is it because I really, truly have feelings for Carter? Or, all of the above?

  I grab a breakfast tray and start piling on our super sugary/fatty breakfast. I’m about to head back to my bedroom when I realize we have nothing to wash all of this down with. What the heck? I grab two glasses from the cupboard and some chocolate syrup from the fridge. Chocolate milk is definitely the right beverage for this breakfast.

  * * *

  It’s Sunday morning and I’m still in a funk. Lizzie had to go home early yesterday afternoon for an actual, real dentist appointment. We didn’t meet back up to do anything Saturday night. Chris never bothered to call. Probably off with Cassie somewhere. And Carter would have no reason to call since he rejected me. For the first time in a long time, I spent Saturday night home alone with my parents. We were sitting on the couch, watching terribly sappy romance movies. Well, Mom and I were. Dad fell asleep pretty quickly into the first one. At one point, I scrolled through the guide and saw the pay-per-view WWF Saturday Showdown and my heart ached. I almost clicked on it just to feel closer to Carter for a few minutes. I’m such a loser. Everything has gone so wrong.

  I’ve had a lot of down time in the last half day. A lot of time to really think about everything that has been going on lately. And I’ve decided that this whole Boy Swap Club was one huge, gigantic mistake. Sure, it pissed off Delaney that I was in her world for a while. But even that enjoyment was short-lived. I mean, what did it really do for me? Yeah, it did boost my popularity. But it isn’t like I was boosted up to prom queen or anything. It was just a one-level, maybe two-level boost. Missy and I did get close because of the BSC. But that could have developed on its own, too. Maybe. And the scarf. I pick up the pale pink scarf off my nightstand and pull it through my fingers. It’s a nice scarf. But it isn’t as important to me as it once was. I mean, I don’t feel like I need it any more. I can always buy a different scarf if I really want a scarf. In fact, I’m getting sick of having to wear it all the time and trying to figure out new ways of incorporating it into my outfit. I throw it back on my nightstand.

  I’d have to say that BSC hurt me more than it helped me. It basically broke my heart. Twice. It took Chris, whom I loved (and still do maybe just a teeny tiny bit), away from me. And it took away Carter, whom I could have loved.

  I’m so done with the Boy Swap Club. It’s time to let Cassie know. I walk over to my computer and launch my e-mail program.

  To: CassAttack@funmail.com

  From: PrincessBrooke@funmail.com

  Re: BSC

  Dear Cassie,

  I am turning in my notice. I no longer wish to participate in the BSC. Please let me know how you’d like me to return the scarf.

  Sincerely,

  Brooke

  I hit Send. There. It’s done. Things can’t go back to the way they were, obviously. Nor do I want them to. But at least I no longer have to pretend that I’m still dating Chris. I’ll talk to him at school tomorrow and let him know that it’s over between us. I’ll be single again and maybe less popular, but I don’t care. My old friends are great. My old life was great.

  I get up to stretch my legs. There are some old slices of apples that I had forgotten about on my desk and I slip them into the bird cage for Baby. “It’ll all be over soon, Baby. I’m getting myself out of this mess.”

  Baby looks completely annoyed and grumpy. She’s looked like this a lot lately. I think she’s had it with her Chris, too.

  I look at Chris Jr. and an idea hits me. “Hey guess what Chris Jr.? It’s moving day! This is your official thirty-second eviction notice. Sorry I didn’t have time to type something up.” I walk over to my window and push it open; I’m immediately hit with the cold air. I quickly retrieve Chris Jr. from the cage. “No time for long goodbyes to Baby, buddy,” I whisper, and I toss him out the window. There. That’s one Chris out of my life. One more to go.

  A smile spreads across my face. That felt really good. And I’m sure Chris Jr. will be just fine. He’ll fly south to Florida for the winter and hook up with some chicks.

  I return to my desk to log off from my funmail account when I notice there is a reply e-mail from Cassie already. She must be online right now. Sigh. I double-click on the e-mail and read.

  To: PrincessBrooke@funmail.com

  From: CassAttack@funmail.com

  Re: Re: BSC

  Sorry Sweetie, but you signed a contract stating your willing participation for “no less than three
months.” You’ll have to wait until then to quit. Try to enjoy it. And don’t be so quick to swap again (I’m guessing that is what this e-mail is really about). It takes skill, hon’. Observe and learn. And next time, shoot for a guy more at…um…your level.

  Laters,

  Cassie

  What an evil witch! She can’t be serious. Can she? No freaking way. She can’t force me to stay in this stupid club. Or maybe she can. I can’t exactly remember what it is that I signed. And they wouldn’t give us a copy of the contract either. Oh this sucks. I can’t even recall the ramifications if the contract is broke. Do I need to get a lawyer? My mom would freak. Ack! What do I do? Am I totally stuck in BSC?

  Chapter 24: Bloomer Tumor

  I can’t believe we have this stupid band/flags/dance early practice this morning—especially considering I got almost no sleep last night. I was up way late thinking about what to do about the BSC, Cassie, Chris…ugh. I’m in a really, really sucky situation. I don’t see how I can get out of this contract. I thought about telling Cassie to flip off and refusing to participate. But I don’t know what her friends would do. What if it’s something really horrible? I think I have to ride out the two months, which I don’t know if I’ll survive. Two more months of having to “date” Chris and close my eyes to him dating Cassie. I mean come on—this is cruel!

  I’m sitting on the bleachers, waiting for the practice to start. Lizzie isn’t here yet. And Chris is across the gym setting up his drum set. I cover my mouth to yawn and Chris waves to me. Yeah, yeah, whatever. I give him a small wave and then turn away. Man, he irritates me now. He showed up at my house at 6:30 this morning to drive me to practice. I told him my mom would take me but he said there was no need and he hadn’t seen me all weekend and missed me. Yeah, right. I’m so sure that the entire time his tongue was down Cassie’s throat, he was thinking of me. Jerk.