Belles

by Jen Calonita

  “Like you said yourself, she has nothing in common with us. Izzie,” Savannah said, the name rolling off her tongue tartly, “will be better off when she realizes that. She’ll figure out where she belongs at EP.” Savannah smiled and started to walk away. “I’m sure the scholarship kids will love her.”

  She always sounded so sure of herself, but Mira wasn’t. If anything, Mira worried she had just made things a whole lot worse—for Izzie and herself.

  Seven

  Izzie didn’t get it. She just didn’t get it.

  She knew she had been uncharacteristically sullen the last week (Hello? World turned upside down, thank you!), but she really did want to give her new school a shot—even if said school was what she’d imagined Harvard might be like if it had been invaded by Gossip Girl. She had met dozens of people as she raced around campus with a map (EP actually needed a map!) and all of them were perfectly polite. And yet they seemed… what was the word she was looking for?

  Fake?

  Every girl she’d met acted like Mira. They were cheerleaders on Red Bull. Real estate agents in training. It was like they had a secret manual on how to charm a new student. But the minute Izzie attempted to get beyond standard introductions, the room got so frosty she needed a sweater.

  What could she have done to tick people off so quickly? She’d barely spoken! It felt like everyone she’d met was in on something she wasn’t and Izzie already felt out of place as it was. Her new home situation was a blur, she missed Grams, and now she was walking around a private school with hundred-dollar ballet flats on her feet and an itchy school uniform that made her break out in hives. Carrying a laptop in her messenger bag wasn’t doing anything to calm her down, either. She’d never owned a computer before. What if she dropped it? Or someone stole it? Okay, so she could already tell EP was not the kind of place where people got mugged, but still. She was nervous.

  “Hey! You’re Mira’s cousin, right?” a blond girl in a high-pitched voice squeaked when Izzie approached her lab table in fourth period. “Welcome to EP!”

  Izzie was starting to feel she needed pom-poms to keep up with all this EP enthusiasm, but maybe Blondie would turn out to be different. “Thanks,” she said in a voice that wasn’t nearly as high as the blond’s. “So do you happen to know anything about swim team tryouts?” Izzie asked tentatively. “I had heard they were next week, but…” She slid into the open seat next to the blond, but the girl stuck her hand out so fast Izzie almost sat on her palm.

  “Oops! Sorry, it’s just, I usually sit alone.” The girl was sweating as her eyes darted around the room like she was being watched. “Because I, uh, don’t do well with lab partners.”

  Izzie looked at her quizzically, but by this point she was used to the bizarre behavior. “Okay, but you’re missing out. I am great with a beaker.” Whatever that meant. Blondie looked at her strangely as Izzie placed her bag on a chair at the table in front of her.

  Maybe Izzie didn’t get the way EP worked yet, but Blondie didn’t look like she was at the top of the food chain herself. Mira and her friends definitely held that honor. This Izzie knew by the time homeroom started. Hayden had to be at the top of the popularity ladder, too—and he deserved it. He seemed like a good guy. So then wouldn’t people go out of their way to be nice to someone related to the Monroes? She didn’t want special treatment, but a lab partner would be nice.

  “Where is Ms. Scott?” asked Mr. Preston, her biology teacher, as he took attendance. Izzie raised her hand. “Hello, there. It’s nice to finally meet our most famous new student.”

  “Famous?” Izzie repeated. Mr. Preston looked like Ichabod Crane and his smile was just as thin as he was.

  “It’s rare I get to read the intimate details about my students’ lives before I meet them,” he said, staring at her over the rim of his glasses. “I enjoyed reading about your swim merits this weekend while drinking my espresso. Nice photo, too.” He held up the front page of the Sunday edition of the North Carolina Gazette. Izzie saw a photo of herself in a bathing suit followed by an article that took up the entire first page. She read the headline underneath: Sweet Charity: Senator Monroe Adopts Impoverished Teen from Harborside. The color drained from her face.

  “We’re happy to have you,” Mr. Preston continued. Izzie could feel the entire room’s eyes on her. Suddenly the room felt very warm. “I know you’re living a fairy tale now, but don’t think you can rest on your new family’s name around here,” he teased with a wag of his finger. Izzie didn’t crack a smile. “Everyone has to pull his or her own weight. Even the Monroes.”

  While Mr. Preston droned on about what they would be learning that year, Izzie stared at the newspaper on his desk. She couldn’t stop obsessing about that article. An article about her! When he finally asked everyone to get up and gather lab supplies, she made a break for it, swiping the newspaper and hiding it in her notebook till she could read it back at her desk. But when she did, she felt nauseated. Everything—everything—down to practically her Social Security Number was in there, from her mother’s death to her grandmother’s deteriorating health and poverty to how the community had been practically raising Izzie till the saintly Monroes stepped in.

  “Cute photo,” said a guy carrying a microscope and some slides past her. Izzie tried to hide the newspaper, but then she realized the guy was just making conversation. He might have even been flirting. “I love a girl in a one-piece, but the picture they showed on the Today show was hotter.”

  “The Today show?” Izzie quickly returned the newspaper to Mr. Preston’s desk and went back to her seat.

  The guy seemed to think for a moment. “Or maybe it was Good Morning America? I don’t know.” He leaned on her desk and smiled. “You were on everything this weekend.”

  So this was why everyone was acting so weird around her. She wasn’t just Mira and Hayden Monroe’s cousin. She was that cousin. The poor one from Harborside. While Izzie had been in Atlanta with her aunt, everyone in EC had been reading about her princess makeover. How could this have happened without anyone telling her? Her uncle was even quoted in this article, which meant he’d probably done TV interviews, too. Did people at EP really care that much about zip codes? She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Blondie. She was whispering heatedly with another girl over a Bunsen burner. When they caught Izzie staring, they stopped and gave a little wave. Yep. Apparently the students at EP did care about geography.

  She forced herself to get a microscope even though all she wanted to do was go home. To her real home, her old school, her old life. Izzie knew starting a new school was going to be tough, but not like this. She and Lambie (yes, she still had a stuffed animal) had stayed up last night staring at the Pepto-Bismol pink chandelier on her ceiling. She didn’t want to have to make new friends, or figure out how to find the gym—excuse me, the Bill Monroe Sports Complex—or worry about where she was going to sit at lunch. She knew Mira would show her around and introduce her to people, but Izzie wasn’t an idiot. Mira didn’t want her there, either. It was almost as if Mira was scared of what having Izzie around meant. Didn’t she realize Izzie was scared, too?

  Science may have been her favorite subject, but thirty-five minutes later, Izzie had never been happier to leave a lab. She slipped out the building’s side door, pulled out her new phone, and dialed.

  Kylie screamed excitedly instead of saying hello. “It’s you!”

  “It’s me!” She felt better just hearing Kylie’s voice.

  “Fi-na-lly,” Kylie drawled slowly. “I got your first text and freaked, and then your second with the new number and freaked some more because you haven’t answered this number at all. Hot surfer boy has been trying to reach you, too.”

  Izzie felt her stomach drop. “Brayden?”

  “Yeah, he came into Scoops three times asking if I’d heard from you yet. He said he texted you, too, but he must have had your old number. Seemed more concerned than just a friend. I’m just saying. You should call him.”<
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  Izzie couldn’t help but grin. “I will.” She cradled the phone between her chin and shoulder so she could dig out her school map and find her way to lunch. “I’m sorry I’ve been MIA. Things got weird, and then even weirder, and then my aunt took me shopping in Atlanta for the weekend….”

  “That last part isn’t weird. It’s cool!” Kylie said, and the nice thing was Izzie knew she’d meant it. “How is the fabulous life treating you, anyway? You’re like a celebrity now! Barbara Walters knows your name, Iz! My mom counted this morning—Babs said it three times!” Izzie laughed. “Everyone is talking about you, though.” Her voice petered out a little. “The Harborside comments the papers make really blow.”

  Izzie winced. “I’ve only seen one article. Is it terrible?”

  “Yeah. And it’s everywhere.”

  “Well, while Babs name-dropping me is cool, I wish there never was an article or a TV mention in the first place.” She quickly filled her friend in on what had been going on. “I’m so popular in these parts that I’m basically hiding by the side of a building to avoid lunch.”

  “Ooh, I bet they serve something better than nachos there,” Kylie said. “Go! Eat! And don’t let those prissy girls boss you around. You could body slam one with your right arm tied behind your back.”

  Izzie laughed. Her stomach was growling. “Not on an empty stomach. Call you later?”

  “You better!” Kylie said.

  Izzie felt more upbeat when she hung up, even if she still couldn’t figure out the map.

  “Where are you headed?” A girl with long, dark brown hair stopped and stared at her. She had deep-set oval eyes and her hair was pulled back in a plaid headband that looked a lot like the one Mira had on that morning. “Hey! You’re Isabelle, right? We have bio together. Word of advice: Never sit that close to Preston—he’s a spitter.”

  “Too late. I know,” Izzie said. “But thanks.” They smiled at each other. Okay, so the second sentence was usually the one that sent people running in the other direction. Time to test the theory. “Any chance you have a GPS handy to help me find my way to the cafeteria?”

  The girl chuckled and quickly explained a direct route. “I have to meet with my adviser; otherwise I’d take you there myself.”

  “Vi! You coming?” A blond yelled to her from the steps of the social sciences building. She had quite the lungs to be heard this far away. “I don’t want a late slip on my first day back!”

  “Yes, Nicole, I’m coming!” the girl yelled back. She looked at Izzie and smiled. “I’m Violet, by the way. Maybe I’ll see you at swim tryouts next week. Enjoy lunch. The mac and cheese is killer.”

  Violet is a swimmer, too! Maybe things at EP were starting to look up, Izzie thought.

  Or maybe not.

  The Jack Eunice Cafeteria looked nothing like a cafeteria and everything like the Great Hall in the Harry Potter movies. Sadly, it seemed nowhere near as fun. Jack Eunice, whoever he was, definitely had put money into the place. Classical music played while students ate shrimp scampi, salads from a chopped-salad bar, and lobster mac and cheese. Izzie was surprised anyone could see what they were eating in the dimly lit room. Why did Hayden have to have a different lunch period? Why? Izzie held her tray of pizza, chips, and Snapple close to her chest and prayed she’d spot someone who looked friendly. She did not want to eat alone. That just looked pathetic. Second option: Ditch the tray and take the pizza to go, she thought. She made her way to the French doors on the right side of the room. That’s when she heard Mira’s sugar-coated laugh.

  Izzie glanced at Mira’s table before she could stop herself. Mira actually wasn’t the one laughing. She was too busy kissing a very tan, tall guy with floppy blond hair. He, in turn, was half kissing Mira and half looking to see who was watching them. Savannah was the once cackling. She saw Izzie and stopped cold, which made Mira look over, too.

  “Izzie!” Mira couldn’t hide her surprise. Her face was flush and Izzie didn’t know if it was because she’d been caught sucking face or because she was embarrassed to see her. “Hey. I looked for you, but—don’t you have lunch sixth period?”

  “Fifth,” Izzie said, stating the obvious since she was, in fact, there during fifth period.

  “Oh, okay,” Mira said awkwardly. “Let me introduce you to some people. You met Lea, Lauren, and Savannah this morning, but this is my boyfriend, Taylor.”

  “Hey,” he said smoothly, extending a large hand. He pulled it back and motioned to her tray. “I guess you can’t shake, huh?”

  “Not unless I grow another arm,” Izzie joked. She shifted slightly to balance her heavy tray. She leaned it on the edge of the table and Lea looked at Savannah nervously.

  “Usually our table is full, but if you want to sit with us just for today, you can,” Savannah said, extending an olive branch. “We were leaving soon anyway.”

  Well, that sounded inviting. “Thanks. I’m going to eat outside.” Izzie lifted the tray.

  Savannah’s eyes widened. “Perfect! It’s gorgeous out there.” Everyone at the table mumbled their agreement.

  “I can’t believe you grew up in Harborside!” Taylor jumped in, ignoring the awkwardness. “What was it like? Did you have bars on your windows and stuff?” Mira shot him a dirty look. “What? The article in the EC Tribune said she grew up in the worst part of town.” Izzie winced. She wondered what else some of these articles said. Half of her wanted to run and find a copy of the Tribune. The other half wanted to burn every edition of the Gazette and Tribune out there.

  Taylor stared at her expectantly. The guy was so pretty he looked like he had been un-twist-tied from a Barbie box. Unlike the girls, though, he wasn’t trying to be condescending. He just seemed clueless. “My school was definitely different from Emerald Prep,” Izzie said, staring at a fifty-two-inch flat-screen TV on the wall that had rolling announcements and a live feed of cross-country practice. “But there was no lockdown or armed guards. It wasn’t juvie hall.”

  “Yeah, but you and your friends probably know ways to get beer, though, right?” Taylor said eagerly. “You must have a fake ID.”

  “Taylor, God! Leave the girl alone,” Savannah reprimanded him, and looked at Izzie. “Sorry. Guys can be so nosy.”

  Izzie shifted the tray again. “I don’t drink, so I never had to worry about a fake ID.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing,” Taylor said with a laugh, and Lauren snorted.

  Lea was staring at the contents of Izzie’s tray. “Are you seriously going to eat that pizza? That stuff has, like, over a thousand calories a slice!”

  “She probably burns it off swimming,” Savannah said. Her own tray had a small Fage yogurt and a water. “Mira said you placed well on your last team. Good for you!” she said condescendingly. “You must be so thankful your community center had a pool.” Izzie’s fingers clenched around her tray. “I’ll see you at EP tryouts. I’m going to be captain this year.”

  “Really?” Lauren asked excitedly. “When did they tell you?”

  “They haven’t officially,” Savannah said, and took a swig of her water. “We don’t have tryouts till next week, but it’s pretty much a done deal.” She stared smugly at Izzie. “I’m going to be the one to beat in the water and out this year.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Izzie said casually, unable to help herself. “You haven’t gone up against me yet.” Taylor nearly spit his soda out of his nose. Mira looked mortified, but Savannah just smiled.

  Going toe-to-toe with Savannah was exhausting. Izzie felt both an adrenaline rush and a meltdown coming on. “I should go.” She grabbed her tray and quickly rushed out of the cafeteria, but she wasn’t watching where she was going and plowed right into someone, knocking his tray out of his hands. A sandwich went flying, Baked Lay’s hit her in the head, and her Snapple shattered on the floor along with the other person’s, too. Both of them landed on the floor. “I’m so sorry,” Izzie said as she started grabbing her pizza’s remains.
She looked up to apologize some more and froze. “Brayden?”

  “Iz?” Brayden looked like a statue holding a fork in midair. His woven rope pirate necklace and ball cap had been replaced with a white collared shirt and a tie that now had pizza sauce all over it. Izzie was so happy to see him she had to fight the urge to throw her arms around his neck. Maybe she’d even say she missed him, because she had. A lot.

  “You go here? I mean, of course you go here!” she said, finding her voice again. “I can’t believe it’s you!” She smiled for the first time in days. “I just talked to Kylie and she told me you were looking for me. I got this new phone and I couldn’t figure out how to check messages and…”

  His blue-green eyes were a mixture of emotions flying at her like those pesky seagulls that always tried to steal her lunch. “I…” he stammered. “Where have you—what are you—”

  “Brayden? Sweetie? What are you doing on the floor?”

  Izzie heard Savannah’s voice and turned around slowly, her butt squishy from the iced tea all over the floor. Mira’s best friend was standing in front of them with her arms crossed, looking less than thrilled to see the two of them tangled together in a heap. Lea, Lauren, Mira, and Taylor were looking on along with the rest of the cafeteria, but the only thing Izzie had heard was sweetie.

  Were Brayden and Savannah a couple?

  “It’s okay, Savannah,” Brayden said, throwing both of their food onto one tray and picking everything up. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I plowed into her. Are you okay?” he asked Izzie. He stood up and offered Izzie his hand.

  She didn’t take it. “I’m fine,” Izzie said, getting up and dusting off her skirt. Her shirt was stained red thanks to the pizza, and she had a small cut on her hand from a glass shard.

  “Did you cut yourself?” Savannah draped herself over Brayden, but his eyes were still on Izzie. “B, you have to watch where you’re going. You could have killed Mira’s cousin.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re Mira’s cousin?”