The Queen B* Strikes Back

by Crista McHugh

  The other band members took my act as a rallying cry, and those with hoses turned them on the popular kids.

  Summer’s shriek marked the beginning of an uprising.

  The band geeks were striking back.

  The minutes that followed were a blur of water and soap suds, of attacks and evasive maneuvers, of screams and giggles. And I had no idea which side they were coming from. I dodged a soaked sponge the size of my head and immediately turned the hose in that direction to get the person who’d thrown it. A jet of water struck me from the side, and I ran to find cover and launch another attack. My heart pounded, my lungs burned for air, but I didn’t want to call a time out. The parking lot turned white from bubbles, and the high school senior class played like a bunch of kindergarteners at recess.

  Someone grabbed me from behind and whirled me around. The hose fell from my hands. My limbs stiffened and braced for impact. I was certain I was about to be tackled to the pavement. Instead, I remained upright, flush against a hard-muscled body. A set of fingers tickled me under the ribs until laughter burst free from my chest.

  “I knew you’d have fun today, Lexi,” a warm, familiar voice whispered in my ear.

  My breath froze, and the chaos around us subsided for a moment. I looked up and confirmed that my worst fears were coming true.

  Some people had that recurrent dream of coming to school naked or puking all over the person they liked. My nightmares now involved people finding out about everything that had happened between Brett and me in the last week.

  Dozens of eyes stared at the scene we made, but Brett made no move to release me. He kept his arms around my waist, holding me close like we were some kind of couple.

  Which, of course, we weren’t.

  But that wasn’t what the rest of the class was thinking.

  Horror dried the spit in my mouth, and I wrested free from him. A quick jab of my elbow had the desired result, and he released me. As much as I would’ve liked to have stayed in his arms, I couldn’t. I refused to let the in-crowd know my weakness. And I couldn’t let them think I’d gone soft, especially over Brett Pederson.

  Summer’s glare was as sharp as daggers, and the scowl on her lips signaled that she was three seconds away from ripping my hair out in a catfight of epic proportions.

  So I did what I had to do.

  I picked up the hose and fired at the center of Brett’s chest.

  He stepped back from the impact and raised his arms to shield his face. When I finally relented, he looked at me with those sad, puppy-dog eyes. An urge to apologize welled up in my throat until it almost choked me. The only thing he’d ever done wrong was like me, and I was too much of a bitch to appreciate it.

  But I had to be the bitch. If I acted soft, I’d lose everything I’d worked so hard to gain over the past three years.

  I threw the hose down and turned for the main road. “I’m out of here.”

  Footsteps sounded behind me, but halted as soon as Summer said, “Let her go, Brett. Like I said before, nobody wants her here anyway.”

  I winced from the ache forming in my chest. It only intensified when Brett said nothing in my defense this time.

  My pride isolated me, but it also kept me from being hurt. And right now, I was glad I hadn’t depended on him to do what a true friend (or even a boyfriend) should do.

  I pulled my dripping wet phone out of my pocket and prayed it still worked. After shaking the water from it, I was able to dial the number of someone I could count on.

  Richard answered with a sleepy, “I love you, Alexis, but not before noon.”

  “Well, I’m in luck because it’s 12:01. Now come rescue me from hell.”

  “What happened?” His voice was tight with worry, and the ache in my chest eased. This was my true friend.

  “Brett dragged me to the senior carwash, and I’m making a break for it, but I don’t want to walk all the way home, so please, can you give me a ride?”

  “Brett? Oh, this I gotta hear. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

  He hung up, and I plodded on. My shoes squelched with each step, leaving little puddles on the sidewalk. Water dripped from my hair and camouflaged the lone renegade tear that managed to escape.

  As much as I wanted to be Brett’s friend, the reality was that I couldn’t trust him. And if I were to open myself (and my heart) up to someone, I needed that person to stand up to Summer and the rest of her cronies, not be one of their sheep.

  Chapter Two

  Richard lived only a few blocks away from Eastline, and his grandmother’s pale gold Lexus pulled up to the curb in less than ten minutes. His dark hair was neatly spiked for someone who’d just woken up, but his clothes looked like he’d grabbed whatever was nearby. He shook his head as I opened the door to climb in. “Oh, no, sweetie, you didn’t tell me you were soaking wet.”

  “Tough.” I got in and yanked the door closed. “Just get me away from here, please.”

  The pain in my plea was enough to make him floor it. But he didn’t take me home. Instead, he took me to a nearby park and turned off the engine. “We need to talk, and while we’re doing that, you can be drying off. Now get out of my car.”

  He didn’t wait for my response before getting out, and I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. The morning had already zapped me, and I still had hours left in the day.

  He stood in front of the car watching me, arms crossed over his chest and his foot tapping in impatience. For a skinny, gay Chinese kid, Richard Wang was still a force to be reckoned with, which was why we’d become such good friends. But times like these, when my soul was battered and confused, made me wish he wasn’t insisting on one of his interventions.

  I crawled out with a heavy sigh and gave him a meek smile when I noticed the watermark I’d left on the leather seat. “Um, I can clean that up.”

  “Of course you will, but let’s go.”

  I followed him in silence down the trail from the parking lot to the small lake in the center of the park. Kids making the most of the last warm days of summer splashed in the water while their parents drank their lattes. Richard strode past them at a determined pace that left me panting to keep up with him.

  He finally stopped in a secluded spot on the opposite side of the lake and turned to me with a no-nonsense pucker. “Now, I want details about you and Brett, and don’t you dare leave anything out.”

  “I’ve already told you the important stuff.” I slumped down on a rock that had been warmed by the sun and waited to dry out.

  “And I’m calling bullshit.” He moved between me and the sunshine. “Let’s start with your sudden interest in football, hmm? Or what you two were talking about behind the scoreboard yesterday.”

  I lowered my gaze and turned away. Richard already knew that I’d been invited over to Brett’s house for breakfast last weekend. None of Brett’s previous girlfriends had even made it past the front door. But if he kept probing, Richard would uncover things like those hot kisses that I’d rather keep to myself.

  “Aw, shit!” Richard grabbed my chin and tilted my head up. He studied my face in a way that would make an FBI agent proud. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

  I jerked free. “No, there isn’t.”

  “And I know when you’re lying. Come on—we’re supposed to be friends.”

  I dared to cast a sideways glance at him and immediately regretted it. The boy was the king of the sympathetic pout, and my resistance crumbled.

  “Okay, fine. Yes, there’s more than just that.”

  “Oh, please don’t tell me you slept with him.”

  I snapped to attention. “What?”

  “Morgan and I have a bet going, and she thinks Brett’s going to take your V-card.”

  “You’re making bets about my virginity?”

  “No, Morgan is.” He sat next to me and rested his head on my shoulder. “I told her you wouldn’t because you promised to be my V-club buddy until I turned eighteen and wouldn’t be ja
ilbait anymore.”

  Funny how he remembered a promise I’d made when we’d been joking around earlier this summer. Morgan had lost her virginity during her freshman year and seemed to move from one physical relationship to the next. Richard, however, was barely sixteen and looked twelve. Since high school wasn’t the friendliest environment for coming out, his age-appropriate selection was limited, which made his virgin status more of a frustration than a choice.

  I, on the other hand, had never even been remotely tempted by anyone until Brett sat next to me in class. It had been a downhill slide from there.

  “So,” Richard drawled, “what is going on between the Queen B and the football star? Are you two secretly plotting to become that power couple I told you that you would be?”

  I should’ve blurted out no, but Richard picked up on my moment of hesitation.

  “You are, aren’t you?” He clapped his hands together and grinned. “By Homecoming, you two could rule the school.”

  “Hate to burst your bubble, buttercup, but it’s not happening.” I started to rise, but Richard pinned me to the rock.

  “Then fine, I’m listening. Spill your guts.”

  I’d been keeping my feelings over this whole Brett situation bottled up for days, and suddenly the idea of confiding in Richard seemed like a welcome relief. “This never leaves the two of us.”

  He made an X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

  My head was telling me just to give him the information he’d asked for, but since I was supposed to be spilling my guts, I figured I might as well start from the place where my life started spinning out of control. “You know that whole camera in the girls’ locker room thing?”

  “Yeah, I loved your blog post about it, but I was kind of bummed you didn’t name names.”

  “Well, um, Brett sort of helped me out with solving the mystery.” The back of my neck burned, and I lifted my hair to fan it. Just thinking about our makeout session made me both giddy and jittery at the same time.

  “You’re blushing. Oh my God, Alexis, please say there’s more to this than you two playing detective.”

  “Um, there is.” I fanned harder, but the breeze generated by my hand was a joke, and sweat prickled my skin. Geez, if it was this nerve-wracking to tell my best friend, I dared not even think about taking my thing with Brett public.

  I drew in a deep breath and said in a rush, “Brett kissed me. More than once. And damn it, I liked it. And I ended up losing my shirt before I knew it. And oh shit, I’m screwed.”

  Richard’s eyes widened, and he backed away as through I were some kind of lunatic. “Holy shit.”

  “And that was just the first time.”

  “You mean you made out with him again?”

  I nodded in shame.

  Envy replaced the shock and awe that had slackened his face, and the inquisitor had returned. “Tell me everything. How was it? Good kisser? Bad kisser? Firm lips? Good use of tongue? I want to know every minute detail about kissing Brett.”

  I squirmed with each question he fired at me. “He was good, okay?”

  “How good?”

  “Good enough for me to indulge in seconds in his bedroom the next day.”

  Richard smacked my shoulder with the back of his hand. “You made out in his bedroom, and you weren’t going to tell me?”

  “And don’t forget this annoying little thing.” I pulled down the neck of my T-shirt to reveal the fading hickey he’d given me in the locker room.

  Richard pointed at it as though it were the scarlet A. “Brett Pederson gave you a hickey?”

  “Yeah, and it pissed me off.” I shrugged my shirt back up. “The problem is, I know better than to tangle with him. Even though I do enjoy kissing him. Even though he wants to be a couple. I know better.”

  “Hold on a minute, girlfriend. You enjoy kissing him, and he wants to be a couple, and you’re walking away from this?” He pressed his palm against my forehead. “Are you sure you’re well?”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” I lied, “and today was just the proof I needed.”

  “Okay,” he replied with a hefty dose of doubt.

  “He woke me up, forced me to go to the senior carwash, and when Summer dissed me, he said nothing.”

  “So what? Summer’s always trying to diss you, and you always have a good comeback.” A wrinkle of confusion appeared above Richard’s nose. “Why do I get the feeling you’re leaving out something?”

  When I didn’t answer, he pulled out his phone. “Fine. I’ll just text Jing and ask him what happened, since I know he was there.”

  “No!” I tried to take the phone from him, but he held it out of my reach and challenged me with an arched eyebrow. “Okay, you win. Before Summer dissed me, there was this big water fight that Sanchez started and somehow during the chaos, Brett caught me, and everyone saw us together.”

  “Together? Or together together?”

  Now it was my turn to smack him. “As if I’d make out with him in public.”

  “Then how were you together?”

  “Stop saying it that way. We weren’t running around naked or anything. He just had his arms around me like this.” I demonstrated the hold on Richard.

  “And did you just melt in his arms?” he asked in a dreamy voice.

  For a moment, I had. “No, there were too many people staring at us. I was more horrified than anything.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I pushed him away and left.”

  “You what?” He shook his head. “That right there was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t do stupid things, unless you count making out with him in the first place.”

  “No, you totally screwed up your chances with him. Listen, I may be gay, but I’m still a guy, and when a guy makes a public declaration that he’s into you like that and you reject him, you’re as good as forgotten.”

  “Oh, please.” I tried to sound blasé about it, even though my stomach was turning into one huge tangled knot. “I’d hardly call swinging me around and tickling me until I laughed a public declaration.”

  “He tickled you?” Richard hopped off the rock as though he feared he’d catch some sort of fatal illness from me. “Do you have any idea how badly you just fucked up?”

  I stared at him. “Um, no.”

  “Let me count the ways.” He held up a finger with each point he made. “One: I assume that conversation behind the scoreboard involved him asking you out and you turning him down, right?”

  I nodded, and he continued.

  “Two: He purposely arranged to arrive at a class function with you. Not Summer. Not any other girl. You. And he didn’t try to sneak into the event like he was ashamed to be seen with you. He made sure everyone there saw you were with him.”

  I felt sick to my stomach as I nodded again.

  “Three: During this water fight, he singled you out to play with and held you like a boyfriend would hold his girlfriend, and you dissed him for it.”

  “I didn’t diss him.”

  “You publicly rejected him in front of everyone. That qualifies as a diss. And you wonder why he didn’t come to your defense afterward.” Richard shook his head like he’d just spent an hour chiding a spoiled brat. “You just blew it.”

  “So? It’s not like I want to go out with him or anything,” I shot back, even though I was on the verge of puking. Had I really just screwed things up between Brett and me? And if I had, why did I care? After all, I only wanted to be friends with him, right?

  But I did care. And for the exact same reason why I didn’t tell him to piss off yesterday once we turned in our class project. Or for the same reason I’d dragged Richard with me to the football game last night. Or for the same reason I couldn’t wait to get home and snuggle with the shirt that smelled like him.

  I’d fallen head over heels for Brett, but I was too much of a coward to admit it.

  I hugged my knees to my chest
and waited for my anguish to pass.

  Richard placed his arm around my shoulders and drew me into a hug. “Cheer up, Alexis. I’m sure we can find a bright spot to this.”

  “How?”

  “Well, for starters, you won’t have to worry about him waking you up early in the morning to drag you to any more stupid school events.”

  I tried to laugh, but a choked sob came out with it.

  “Aw, sweetie, you really are upset about this?” Richard hugged me even tighter. “I’m sorry I had to be the bitch this time.”

  “No, I needed to hear it.” I swiped my hand over my eyes to make sure no tears had fallen. I couldn’t afford to waste any over Brett. “Besides, you’re right. I told him it would never work, and today proved it. You should’ve seen the looks on his friends’ faces when they saw the two of us together. They thought he was the one who’d lost his mind.”

  “Yeah, high school sucks that way.” He pinched my shirt and pulled it off my shoulder. “And I think you’re dry enough to ride in my car now.”

  “So is it officially your car now?” I slid off the rock, eager to change the subject from my disastrous morning.

  “My grandmother signed the papers over to my dad yesterday. They told me as soon as I got home from the game last night.”

  “I guess I don’t have to give you a ride to the game this Friday, then.” In a way, I was glad. Even though I was beginning to enjoy the games now that I had some concept of what was happening. Richard was an expert when it came to football and he was a great teacher.

  “How about I give you a ride?” he asked with a playful nudge.

  “I don’t know. Asian drivers and all,” I teased.

  Thankfully, he laughed. “You bitch.”

  Yes, that was what I was. The Queen Bitch. And I needed to keep reminding myself that I liked it that way.

  When we got back to the car, I said, “Thanks for helping me out, Richard.”

  “What are friends for?” He climbed in and started the engine. “By the way, I think the next person who needs an intervention is Morgan.”

  “Why?”