Good for you, Elinor.
Caro was posing onstage as a photographer snapped pictures for the local newspaper. The pageant sponsor handed her a giant fake check.
I headed over to where Fergie, Selena, and Annie were taking pictures too.
“I just had a total moment,” Fergie said to me. “Like, this is really a big deal for Smelinor. But for Caro, it’s just another Saturday. I mean, of course she won. She’s won every year she’s been eligible, and she’ll win the next two pageants. Like, where’s the challenge? Every year, I have to constantly reinvent myself on a style level, keeping up with trends and whatnot. Caro just has to be beautiful—like that’ll ever change.” She glanced at me. “Omigod, don’t tell her I said that.”
I smiled. “I won’t.”
“Then again,” Fergie added, “Caro could get fat or something. Or run over by a truck and be totally deformed and scarred. You never know.”
Wishful thinking, Fergie?
“Oh, and, Madeline, I’d watch out if I were you. Caro is on the warpath about something to do with you, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”
Sam, no doubt.
“And, sorry, but she told me to tell you you’re not invited to her celebration lunch at Yum’s.”
What a shock.
“So I heard you and Sam were seen making out in your front yard,” Caro said on the phone that night. “But of course it’s not true. I mean, Madeline Echols making out with Sam when she knows I like him? Impossible. She’d never do such a bitchy, dirty thing to her supposed friend.”
Whoa. And who the hell was spying on me and Sam, anyway? Did Caro have secret-agent binoculars or something? Or maybe one of the summer interns who were having orientation sessions saw us and passed it on? Someone going by in a car probably saw us and the gossip train began.
“Bitchy and dirty? You mean like telling Sam I hooked up with James? That we were a couple now?”
“Don’t compare the two, Madeline. Please.”
“Caro, I—”
“Whatever,” she snapped. “I don’t care about your explanations. I just want to know if it’s true. Were you making out with Sam?”
It was time to stand up to Caro Alexander. “Yes, I was.”
She hung up.
I really hoped I wouldn’t have herpes or a baby the next morning at school.
Chapter 22
Monday, I waited for Mandy’s car, as always, not expecting it. But there it was.
Caro lowered the window and said, “I heard another rumor that I swore to Fergie could not possibly be true. That you’re going to the Spring Fling dance with Sam. Isn’t that hilarious?”
Fergie burst into maniacal laughter. “It’s so funny that it’s not. Omigod, Caro, there is no way Madeline would screw you like that.”
They wouldn’t stab me or scratch my eyes out with Mandy watching, would they?
“Yes. He asked me and I said yes.”
Caro stared at me, the angelic blue eyes ice cold. “There’s a code, Madeline. You’re aware of it. You don’t go after the guy your friend likes. Every girl in the universe knows that rule and lives by it.”
“Every girl,” Fergie agreed. “I mean, come on, Madeline.”
“I didn’t mean to fall for him, Caro. You know that.”
“I don’t know anything about you anymore, Madeline. I just know you’re out. And by the way, I want back everything I gave you. Every shirt, every necklace, every pair of shoes.” She wrinkled her nose. “Ick, the smell here is revolting.”
Then she raised the window and the car pulled away, the wheels spraying me with a dust of dirt and pebbles.
Sabrina and Elinor, who had the early shift that morning, were staring at me.
Oh no. I’d forgotten that Elinor had a huge crush on Sam too.
“Elinor, I’m—”
“Lucky,” she said with a big smile. “Sam’s a great guy. And amazingly gorgeous.”
Huh? “You’re not upset?”
She twirled a ringlet. “About?”
“I know you like him, Elinor.”
“Not in a real way,” she said. “I mean, I like him, but it’s a crush like I’d have on a rock star or a movie star. Sam and I don’t speak the same language.”
“So do you think I was wrong for breaking the girl code?”
“You’re asking me?”
I nodded. “I value your opinion.” And it was true. I did.
“If you want to know how I really feel, I think Caro is pure evil. There is no girl code with a girl like her. There’s only her evil code.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “I guess that makes me feel a little better.”
She grinned. “So did I mention I have a date to the Spring Fling? With someone who does speak my language. He told me he loves my hair—when it gets all frizzy from the rain too!”
Frizz puffs and all. I gave her a hug. “Have an amazing time,” I said as the big yellow school bus pulled to a noisy stop in front of us. I’d get the scoop later on who he was.
“Oh, I will,” she said, and took a jump—but just a little, well-deserved one.
There were no rumors. Nothing was written about me on the bathroom walls. No one stared at me and whispered.
Life was completely the same at Freeport Academy that day. But it wouldn’t be for much longer.
The piece I’d written for the Freeport Academy Buzz was coming out that day. Perfect timing, since I still had my standing for another few days, until the new Most and Not lists came out. And Avery would be coming back to school the next day.
“Great editorial,” someone said to me, holding up the paper.
My name is Madeline Echols. I was at the party that started some nasty and untrue rumors about my friend Avery Kennar. I just want to state for the record that none of it is true.
—Madeline Echols
I’d planned to go on and on about popularity and how it could corrupt people and wasn’t worth it. But I’d decided to keep the piece short and sweet and to the point.
“I knew it,” was the refrain I heard around school immediately.
“You’re such a stupid bitch.”
I turned around and there was Caro, glaring at me. Fergie and the hangers-on were right behind her, looking nervous. She had a copy of the newspaper in her hand. “Whatever. Do you really think I care about that loser? You two deserve each other.” And then she walked away, Fergie and the girls trailing her.
For the next week, I didn’t sit with Caro and Fergie at lunch, didn’t meet them between classes. Fergie didn’t seek me out, and I didn’t press it with her. Caro’s friendship meant too much to her.
I’d put everything Caro had ever given me, two years’ worth of castoffs, which actually didn’t add up to all that much, into a huge shopping bag and then asked my mom to drive me over to her house to drop it off. I taped a big note—Your stuff. M—to the bag so that Mandy wouldn’t mistake it for real garbage.
Though I wouldn’t doubt Caro would ask Mandy to throw the bag away.
Sam and I made a pact to avoid each other at school. I didn’t need more drama. He came over after school, and we went for long walks in the fields and I even helped him wash down Hermione, his favorite calf, too. Twice I burst into tears—once while we were talking about our English teacher, and another time while we were kissing on our rock.
“You’ll be okay. It’ll be okay,” he kept assuring me.
I got ready for the dance at my house with Sabrina and Elinor and Avery, whose debut back at school (she’d faked a fever by pressing the thermometer in her hands and pretended to throw up every morning for the past week) went as planned. Everyone—well, except certain someones—said they’d known that all those rumors were false. And now Avery was famous, like she’d wanted to be.
Sabrina wore a dress for the first time in her life and actually let me put a little makeup on her face. “Is it too much?” she screeched after one coat of mascara. My sister? Totally pretty. And Elinor, with her long dark
ringlets and her hot pink pageant dress, looked fabulous. Avery was decked out in a white dress with high-heeled sandals. And I was wearing the very first dress I’d bought in Rome, just a simple pale pink sheath, with my favorite cool necklace.
My mom and Mac were blown away by the transformations. Especially Sabrina’s. My mom was tearing up so much she couldn’t hold the camera straight, so Mac ended up snapping the pictures—like a hundred of them. And then Mac drove us all to the Freeport Academy gym, where the Spring Fling dance was held.
Joe, looking quite handsome in a black dress shirt, was waiting for Sabrina in front. And there was Sam, waiting for me.
“Maybe we should just skip it,” I whispered to him, a balmy breeze ruffling my hair. “We could walk to the beach and just sit and talk.”
“Or we could go in,” he said, taking my hand.
So we went. The gym was packed, since it was a school-wide dance.
“Don’t even look around for them,” he said, putting his hands around my waist and leading me into a slow dance.
I slipped my arms around his neck and closed my eyes, but until I knew where Caro and Fergie were, I’d feel like a bucket of pig’s blood might splash on my head at any moment. I glanced around. They were easy to spot. With her long blond hair, Caro looked very dramatic in a sleeveless black dress. And Fergie, as always, was fashion forward. She was slow-dancing with Tate, her head against his shoulder. And Caro was being twirled around by a gorgeous junior who was captain of the baseball team.
Sam and I slow-danced to two more songs, and between the music and the feel of his arms around me, I relaxed. Until I went to the restroom. One minute, I was washing my hands and freshening my lip gloss, and the next, Caro and Fergie had me surrounded.
Caro began brushing her hair. “Fergie,” she said, “I just realized that the Not list will be decided tomorrow. I wonder if anyone new and unexpected will make the list this year.”
“Yeah, I wonder,” Fergie said, eyeing me. I couldn’t tell if she was saying Do something about the situation, idiot. Or You’re toast.
“I mean, now that some of the farm freaks have actually improved,” Caro added, “there’s room for others who need help.”
Whatever.
“Oh, by the way, Maddie,” Caro said, “we’ve changed the rules this year. Everyone who made the Most list last year needs to be in the meeting to determine the Nots. To keep it fair and balanced. We’re meeting in ten minutes on the quad.”
“Fair and balanced?” I muttered through gritted teeth. “What is fair and balanced about judging people by the way they look?”
She laughed. “Oh, so you mean the entire country, who has had these Most and Best polls for generations, is wrong? If it’s okay for me to be Most Beautiful, why isn’t it okay for someone else to be Most Not Beautiful?”
“Because one is praise and the other is a putdown, Caro. Come on.”
She stared at me. “No, you come on. To the meeting. The rule is firm. A few of us realized that since the Most polls aren’t over, anyone can be voted for anything. I mean, a former Most can suddenly turn into a Not.”
A threat. She knew I wouldn’t go to that meeting. And she wanted me to sweat.
“Right. So you think Sam Fray, always voted Most Popular and Most Beautiful, will suddenly be voted Most in Need?”
“Maybe,” she said. “In need of an attitude adjustment. Someone’s played with his head. Sam has always been a nice guy. But you turned him into Mr. Save the Losers.”
Then I walked away.
“You’re fair game now,” she called after me.
When I found Sam right where I’d left him, I took his hand. “Let’s go out back. We can still hear the music but get away from the crowds.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said, leading us out.
Dusk finally falling into a beautiful summer night, we slow-danced on the grass, even to the fast songs. It felt like there was no one and nothing else in the world. No lists, no Caro and Fergie. Just me and Sam and possibilities.
“I give you permission to break up with me tomorrow,” I whispered. “I’m probably going to end up on the Not list.”
He pulled away from me. “I hope you’re kidding. You do know me better, right?”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Yeah. I do. I’m just overwhelmed by everything. I don’t know what to think about anything anymore.”
He pulled me against him and caressed my hair. “Actually, if you do end up on the Not list, it might be a good thing.”
“A good thing to be a Not?” I asked, staring at him.
He nodded. “Madeline Echols, gorgeous, funny, nice, smart, a Not? How can that possibly make sense? It’ll completely destroy the power that list has, because no one will believe it.”
“I hope you’re right.” How could I go from Most Popular to Most Not overnight? It would render the list meaningless. For me, anyway.
“I’m right,” he assured me, then pulled me tighter against him.
Chapter 23
The Not list started making its way around the school during homeroom the next morning.
SOPHOMORE CLASS MOST NOTS
Most in Need of a Reality Check:
Madeline Echols & Jeff Parker
Most in Need of New Friends:
Madeline Echols & Simon Archweller
Most Changed into a Loser:
Madeline Echols & Avery Kennar
Most in Need of an Extreme Makeover:
Lauren Goddard & Mike Farraday (unibrow, bro)
Most in Need of a Stylist:
Penny Kerns & Mike Farraday
Most in Need of a Therapist:
Madeline Echols
Most in Need:
Madeline Echols
Most in Need of a Bodyguard:
Avery Kennar
The list went on, with names I didn’t recognize—other than my own. And it didn’t hurt a bit. Just like Sam had said it wouldn’t.
They’re not on the list, I realized, letting out a breath. Elinor and Joe weren’t on the list. We’d done it.
Caro had probably tried her damnedest to get Elinor on the Not list. But she must have been overruled. And Avery’s inclusion was kind of funny. She’d love it.
Caro Alexander, overruled. I loved it.
A girl I didn’t know came up to me, a group of girls behind her. “Um, hi, um, can I just ask you something?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Is this list a joke?” she asked, holding up the Not list. “I mean, I’m on it. But so are you.”
“Yeah,” I assured her. “It’s a total joke. Don’t pay any attention to it.”
“See? I told you,” another girl said, and when the bell rang, they all crumpled the lists and chucked them into the garbage can by the door.
As I walked to English, I could see the crowd parting ahead. Caro, Fergie, Selena, and Annie walked past me. None of them looked at me, but Fergie turned back for a second.
Caro was right about one thing. I was most in need of new friends.
My cell phone vibrated. A text from Elinor.
Even if I were on the Not list, I wouldn’t be. Does that make sense? You’re not on it either.—E
Yeah. It made a lot of sense.
All Most ballots were due to the office by noon the next day. Mrs. Farker, the school secretary, guarded the box where ballots, folded and stapled shut in front of her, were dropped through a narrow slot. You had to check your initials against her list before turning in your ballot. All this was because of a scam four years earlier, when one girl had received 317 votes for Most Popular, Most Beautiful, and Most Likely to Rule the World One Day, and there had been only 173 students in the class.
The Most list would be posted the following day after lunch.
I didn’t vote. Neither did Sam.
SOPHOMORE CLASS POLL
Most Popular
Madeline Echols and Sam Fray
Most Beautiful
Caro Alexander and Sam Fray
Most Stylish
Fergie Ferragamo and CJ Marstow
Most Hot
Selena McFarland and Tate Belsh
Most Likely to Rule the World One Day
Avery Kennar and Tate Belsh
Most Brainy
Jen Bay and Devlin Murphy
Most Hilarious
Annie Haywood and Tate Belsh
Class Couple
Madeline Echols and Sam Fray
So.
What Happened Next
During the final few days of school, Caro did not start rumors about me. She didn’t arrange to have me run over. She just pretended I didn’t exist.
Fergie has waved at me the few times she’s seen me when she hasn’t been with Caro. But when she’s with Caro, she ignores me. Right after it all happened, she e-mailed me: I wish we could still be friends, but you broke the code. There’s no point in telling Fergie my side. First of all, there is no there there, as Sabrina loves to say about my former friends. And Fergie lives for Caro.
Sam is spending the summer working full-time at the farm. I, of course, am not. Avery and I are junior counselors at a day camp and have become really good friends with another girl, who just moved to Freeport and will be attending Freeport Academy in the fall as a junior, just like us. We’ve told her everything. Leila is from New York City and is incredibly cool and stylish, but not in a high-fashion couture way. In a her-own-style way. Fergie will hate her.
Sabrina was voted Most in Need again in the junior-class Not polls. She didn’t care again. She and Joe have decided they are Junior Class Couple.
Elinor’s Spring Fling date turned into a boyfriend. She still has the occasional frizz puffs, but she traded in her glasses for contacts when the boyfriend told her she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.
My dad and Tiffany are expecting a baby. I’m really happy for him.
Avery and I have become very close.
Sam told me he loves me. I told him I love him.
Aunt Darcy sent me a huge “congratulations on the love thing” box of chocolates, no gross pink-cream centers. To: Most You, she’d written on the little card.
The Mosts Page 14
