What If... All the Rumors Were True

by Liz Ruckdeschel

  Whitney returned with the corset, eyeing both of them suspiciously. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

  Devon rang it up and put it in a bag for her; then Whitney was out the door.

  Devon turned to Haley. “You know who’s really taking this acting thing to the far side, of course.”

  “Who?” Haley asked.

  “Shaun and Irene.”

  “Oh, I know,” Haley said. “The whole donkey thing.”

  “It’s worse than you think,” Devon said. “You know what they’ve been doing after rehearsals?”

  “What?!” Haley demanded, strangely fascinated.

  “Shaun puts on his donkey head and makes Irene ride on his back while he hee-haws and tries to buck her off.”

  Haley was stunned.

  “Really? I can’t see Irene going for that,” she said.

  “Are you kidding?” Devon said. “She acts all snarky and cool, but Shaun tells me she’s a wild woman in private.”

  He leaned in to give her another kiss. Haley kissed him back, but then pulled away. She couldn’t get the disturbing image of Irene and Donkey Shaun out of her mind. Would Irene really be into something so bizarre? Haley wasn’t sure she believed Devon. Maybe it was only gossip. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.

  It’s not like Devon to gossip—is it? He’s suddenly opened up to Haley, a lot. Must be all this role-playing, and the stimulating effect of Shakespeare. But did he see Irene riding on Shaun’s back with his own eyes? If so, Haley might need to have a talk with Irene. Everyone seems to be losing their marbles these days.

  If you think Haley should see what’s going on with Irene and her set design for the school play, go to "COME ON, IRENE". If you think Irene is a lost cause and Haley’s time would be better spent in the world of politics, send her off to party with Coco, Whitney and the country club set at "CASINO NIGHT".

  In a small town like Hillsdale, it’s hard to keep a secret. Haley’d best make sure she has nothing to hide.

  FIGHTING WORDS

  What you don’t know can hurt you.

  “Dave is practically catatonic,” Annie said as she and Haley headed into debate team practice. Well, you don’t look so hot yourself, Haley thought, noticing that Annie’s hair was scraggly and unwashed, and she’d clearly chewed her nails ragged.

  “Half the time he doesn’t even make sense,” Annie went on. “Something’s terribly wrong. Unless, he’s gotten so brilliant that I can’t follow his train of thought anymore. But no—what am I saying? That’s just not possible. I’m Annie Armstrong.”

  “Does seem unlikely,” Haley said. They took their seats in the debate room and waited for Annie’s cocaptain, Alex, to arrive. Haley sat next to Dale Smithwick, a tall, skinny African American boy with round glasses.

  “Let’s face it,” Annie said. “Dave’s just gone loco.”

  “I’ll say,” said Dale.

  “Why? Have you been watching his videocast?” Annie asked.

  “Not exactly,” Dale said. “One of my friends e-mailed me some clips—hilarious. Better than standup. Last episode, Dave was talking to the ghost of his dead hamster. Which I think he named Handel?”

  “The dude is seriously messed up,” another debater chimed in. “He’s all, ‘I’d like to tell you what Handel says about the afterlife, but first I must translate from the original Hamster.’”

  “You mean—” Annie looked upset. “These clips are bouncing around the Internet like comedy sketches?”

  “Totally,” Dale said. “I’ve got a friend in Georgia who keeps begging me to send him more. Dave’s famous.”

  “A famous nut job,” the other boy added.

  “This is terrible!” Annie exclaimed.

  “Come on, Annie,” Dale prodded. “You must have seen this coming. Dave is airing those videocasts twice a week. Do you think nobody’s watching? How can you not find that stuff funny?”

  “Poor Dave,” Annie said absently. “If he knew everyone was laughing at him—”

  “Get your boyfriend a good shrink and an even better dermatologist,” Dale recommended.

  “You’re one to talk,” Haley said, pointing to the spotty breakout on Dale’s chin.

  Just then, Alex Martin walked in and took his place at the front of the room. “Let’s get started, everyone. We’ve got a big debate with St. Agnes next week and we don’t want to ruin our stellar one-and-zero record.”

  He flashed Haley a quick grin, causing her pulse to quicken. She loved Alex’s smart, take-charge personality, and his preppy adorableness didn’t hurt. While they had gotten off to a rocky—okay, practically violent—start, sparks were definitely now flying between them. They tried to keep things cool during debate team practices, since Haley didn’t think it would be a good idea to broadcast their serious flirtation to the other debaters—didn’t want to provoke any accusation of favoritism. But it was getting harder and harder to be in a room together without locking eyes.

  “The topic will be technology and whether it is improving our lives,” Alex said. “I want everyone to practice arguing both pro and con, so we’ll be ready for anything St. Aggie throws at us. Let’s start with Annie taking pro against Dale’s con—”

  Suddenly, the classroom door flew open and Sebastian Bodega stormed in. “Haley!” he shouted. “I must speak to you.”

  “Excuse me, Sebastian,” Alex said. “We’re in the middle of debate practice.”

  “It is very important,” Sebastian said. He fell onto his knees in front of Haley. “It cannot wait another moment.”

  “I’m sorry?” Alex began, glancing at Haley with a confused look.

  “Haley, please, I beg of you,” Sebastian said, taking her hand.

  “Um, maybe I should talk to him in the hall.” Haley wondered what on earth Sebastian might want. They’d barely exchanged more than a few pleasantries this school year, he’d been so busy with Mia.

  Alex looked to Annie for her opinion, as if Annie could stop this unpleasant interruption. She just shrugged.

  “Five minutes,” Alex said sternly. “We can’t spare any more than that.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Sebastian said. “Haley, come.”

  Haley followed Sebastian into the hall. “Sebastian, this better be good—”

  “Oh, Haley, I am so sorry,” Sebastian began. “For anything I ever put you through. Each time Mia, she does something to me, she pierces my heart, I think this is what I have done to Haley. And it kills me that I have put you through such pain.”

  “Actually,” Haley said, a bit taken aback, “I haven’t really given you much thought in months.”

  “Don’t speak, my precious. Your suffering is too great for me to bear. I must spend my life now trying to make this up to you.”

  “What about Mia?” Haley asked.

  “Mia, Mia, Mia. No matter how many times I tell people she is my EX-girlfriend, no one believes me.”

  “Maybe that’s because you two are always hanging all over each other,” Haley offered. Though truthfully, in Mia’s case, she was always hanging all over a lot of boys.

  “We are Espanish,” he said. “Hot-blooded, romantic people. We are expressive. We touch! Is no big thing.”

  “So you interrupted debate practice just to tell me all that?”

  “No,” Sebastian said. “I must, I need, to tell you that I truly still care for you, Haley. I want to be with you. Won’t you please say you want to be with me also?”

  Well, this is a surprise. Who knew Sebastian was pining for Haley all this time? But is Haley willing to give him another try? He sure seems to want her back—for now. Can she trust him? His feelings in the past have been all over the map. “Hot-blooded” is right—there have been times when Sebastian has seemed to be hot for every girl he saw. But he just made such a dramatic gesture, bursting in and declaring his feelings…. Maybe he really means it this time.

  Then there’s Alex. It feels as though things are heating up with him, and Haley hasn’t had a cha
nce to see where it will lead. If she goes back to Sebastian, she’ll have to drop Alex. And something tells her that Alex, unlike Sebastian, won’t come running back to her if things with Señor Bodega don’t work out.

  What should Haley do? Pursue Alex or Sebastian? Or neither? Or both? If you think Haley should jump at the chance to tango with the Spanish Hottie, go to "BODEGA’S BOLOGNA". If you think stable, reliable Alex is the best bet for Haley, send her on a "DATE WITH ALEX". Or, if you’re not ready to commit just yet, "INVESTIGATE MIA". Finally, if you think Haley should start paying more attention to her test preparations, go to "TESTING LIMITS".

  Just like on multiple-choice exams, if you don’t know the answer, you’ve still got to pick one and move on.

  CASINO NIGHT

  When you roll around in the mud, expect to get dirty.

  “What’s the problem here?” Perry Miller asked. He’d walked into the kitchen after dinner to find Joan and Haley arguing while Mitchell took apart the microwave. Haley was dressed up in a short shift dress, the charcoal fabric shimmering with sparkly silver thread. She wore her auburn hair in a loose updo, and silver pumps on her feet.

  “She wants to go to that ridiculous fund-raiser,” Joan said, pointing at her daughter. “For a Republican!”

  “She won’t drive me,” Haley said, pointing back at her mom.

  Spencer Eton’s mother was having a Casino Night at their palatial home, and Spencer had invited the cream of Hillsdale High to attend. Haley knew her mother couldn’t stand Mrs. Eton’s environmentally unfriendly political platform, but she didn’t think Joan would ruin her social life just because she didn’t agree with the Eton values.

  “I would hate to support anything that woman does,” Joan said. “And I can’t stand to think of my own daughter wallowing in that political pigpen. I also don’t understand why a bunch of sixteen-year-olds need to hang around at a party full of conservative grown men and women anyway. It’s like they’re trying to indoctrinate the next generation!”

  “Look, I don’t agree with Mrs. Eton’s politics either,” Haley said. “But I’m not giving her campaign any money. If anything, I’m costing them dollars by getting a free seat and eating their food.”

  Tickets to Casino Night were $1,500 a pop, but Spencer had put his friends, including Haley, on the guest list, gratis.

  “Your presence alone is a show of support,” Joan said.

  “Dad, I’m only going because all my friends will be there,” Haley said. “For me it’s just a party, not a political showdown.”

  Perry looked warily from his wife to his daughter and back. “I’ll drive you, honey,” he said to Haley finally.

  “Fine,” Joan seethed, storming out of the room. “As long as I’m not compromising my conscience.” She stomped up the stairs.

  “Look,” Mitchell said, pressing a button on the reconfigured microwave. “I can make the clock run backward. It’s the first step in building a machine that will be able to take me back in time.”

  “Just don’t take us back to the era when you talked like a robot,” Haley teased, pulling on her coat. She felt mildly guilty for going against her own mother. But she also loved the sensation of winning an argument.

  “Mitchell, could you have the clock running forward again by the time I get back?” Perry said. “I’m sure you’re capable of making a time machine, but I don’t think this family can handle interruptions in the space-time continuum right now.”

  “No problem,” Mitchell said.

  Perry drove Haley to the Etons’, dropping her off in the circular drive behind a line of cars queued up for valet-parking service. The mansion was aglow; music and laughter poured from its windows.

  “Have a good time, honey,” Perry said. “I’ll try to cool your mother down before you get home.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Just tell her I’m sabotaging the system from the inside.” Haley gave him a quick kiss and hopped out of the car.

  The party was packed, mostly with well-dressed adults, but a few clusters of glamorous teens sparkled among the crowd. Most of the action was in the casino, set up in the huge living room. Waiters floated by with trays of drinks and jewel-like canapés while the adults played roulette and blackjack.

  Definitely the work of Spencer, Haley thought as she surveyed the scene. Spencer Eton had plenty of experience setting up gambling parties with the help of his SIGMA pals, and this one had his signature touches: good-looking people and very high stakes. The event looked to be a huge hit for Mrs. Eton.

  Just then, Spencer came over to greet her, with Coco on his arm and Whitney teetering behind them on gold high heels.

  “Now I can really say everybody in Hillsdale who counts is here,” Spencer said, kissing Haley on the cheek.

  “I thought you were allergic to bleeding-heart liberals,” Haley teased.

  “If we don’t open our doors to our misguided friends, how can we ever convert them to the truth?” Spencer retorted.

  “My dad used to be a Democrat,” Whitney confessed. “He switched parties a few years back. Something about the tax rate. He’s here…somewhere….” She looked around for her dad, Jerry Klein, the breath-spray king of New Jersey. “Trish stayed home to watch reality TV, so I’m his date tonight.”

  “If you can find him,” Coco said.

  “Truth is power, Haley,” Spencer said. “And vice versa. You have to use whatever power you’ve got. There’s political power, social power, financial and…the other kind.” Haley followed his eyes toward the front door, where Mia Delgado was making a splashy entrance in a short, spangled low-cut dress and heels so high she towered over most of the men in the room.

  Whitney looked down at her own curve-hugging satin dress and wailed, “Why do I even bother?”

  Actually, Haley thought, Whitney’s dress is especially flattering. But she knew what Whitney meant—it was hard to get any attention with Mia sucking the air out of every room she entered.

  “What’s she doing here?” Coco demanded. “She wasn’t on the guest list.”

  “Maybe she should have been. We should go say hello,” Spencer said, leading Coco away. Whitney followed without being invited, while Haley headed for the bar to get a plain soda. The kids were under strict orders not to drink, lest some tabloid snap a photo and accuse Mrs. Eton of serving minors in her own home.

  As Haley wandered through the crowd, checking out the games, she came across Mrs. Eton holding forth to a cluster of guests.

  “Are you enjoying yourselves?” Mrs. Eton was saying. “People love gambling—it’s part of human nature, isn’t it? When I’m governor I’m going to bring more gambling to the great state of New Jersey—more casinos, bigger lotteries…Gambling brings in so much revenue you can lower taxes to next to nothing.”

  One of her listeners, a large, red-faced man, nodded vigorously. “Lower taxes, that’s what it’s all about,” he said. “You’ve got the vote of everyone in the Heights if you promise to lower taxes.”

  If Mom were here she’d cause a riot, Haley thought, grateful Joan was safe at home under lock and key. Haley moved away from the candidate’s circle and spotted an odd couple isolated in a back corner of the room.

  Mia Delgado leaned against the wall, laughing with delight at something the man with her had said. The man was stocky and middle-aged, with a bald spot on the back of his head. Mia leaned close and whispered something, touching his shoulder.

  She was flirting. But with whom? Haley moved closer for a better look.

  The man brushed Mia’s long hair from her collarbone. Then he turned slightly and nodded toward the bar. At last Haley could see his face.

  It was Jerry Klein.

  Haley couldn’t believe it. Mia was flirting with Whitney’s dad!

  Holy guacamole! Mia and Whitney’s dad? What exactly is going on here? Haley doesn’t want to jump to conclusions—or does she? Mia seems to have a voracious need to conquer every male who crosses her path. Who’s she going to flirt with next, Mitchell? />
  And how did she get into the fund-raiser in the first place? She wasn’t on Spencer’s guest list, and Haley doubted Mia could spare $1,500 to support a candidate in an election she couldn’t even vote in. Yet here she was. Mia certainly seemed to have a knack for being in the right place at the right time.

  If you think Haley should find out what’s going on between Mia and Mr. Klein, go to "INVESTIGATE MIA". Or if you want Haley to wait for more information before she jumps to conclusions, go to "INCURABLE FLIRT". If you think Haley should leave this lions’ den altogether and attend to her own personal life, and perhaps a cute senior who has a crush on her, send her on a "DATE WITH ALEX". Finally, if you think she misses Reese and would rather try to reconcile with him, go to "WATCH AND LEARN".

  As Spencer said, there are different kinds of power. One type he didn’t mention: willpower.

  NEW JERSEY WATER TORTURE

  You can lead a frosh to water, and you can make her drink.

  “Hey, boys, what’s on the agenda?” Haley asked as she and Sasha led the girls’ varsity soccer team through the front door of Zach Woolsey’s house for the first unofficial coed initiation. Zach was a senior on the boys’ team, who lived in the Heights. He wasn’t a captain on the boys team, but he’d offered to step in and host when Reese had predictably bailed on the whole hazing idea. It looked as though the boys had already gotten the party started. Their three freshmen were sitting at a table with six huge jugs of water in front of them.

  “Gulp it down!” Zach said, forcefully. “We’re making them drink at least a gallon of water each,” he explained to the girls. “These frosh are going to be up all night pissing their pants.”

  “That’s your initiation ritual?” Sasha said.

  “It’s better than watching them puke all night from drinking,” Zach replied. “Or making them eat brownies laced with laxatives. The idiot lacrosse players tried that last year. You would not believe the mess.”

  “Well, what’s good enough for the boys…,” Haley said, pulling up two chairs. “Leah and Marissa, looks like you’ve got some water to drink.”