e i g h t

“Most bad behavior comes from insecurity.”

—Debra Winger

“So, Sam told me something interesting,” Antonia says, pulling her messenger bag up over her shoulder.

Even though I want to know the gossip about Sam, I’m having a hard time listening right now. I can’t concentrate. I’m so hungry. I was starving when I woke up this morning, but I stuck to my morning grapefruit and tea. It’s working at least.

“Wait. What?” I ask.

“He joined debate club. Forensics or whatever. Why do they call it that? I thought that was supposed to be related to some kind of CSI crap.”

“He did?” I wonder why he didn’t tell me. I suddenly feel a little hurt—like maybe Sam is getting back at us for going to the party without him. “When did he say that?”

Students are spilling out into the hallway. Eastlake Prep, home of the “most talented student body” in the Los Angeles area. The pressure to be successful, to set yourself apart from everyone else, is ridiculously high. How else are you going to feel, when most of your classmates are actors on cable television and world-class athletes?

I glance around the hall. I’m desperate to see Zach again. I start to feel butterflies just thinking about him—his dark hair, his defined jawline—but then I get queasy.

Antonia slams her locker shut. “When we were walking out to our cars after we studied...I mean, after we drank in your bedroom.”

“That was like...” I start counting in my head “...a week ago.”

“I didn’t think you were going to think it was that big of a deal.” She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t get so jealous. He just said he forgot to tell us.”

“Him? Likely not,” I say. “He’s been acting weird lately. Did you see how jealous he got when you started talking about what happened at the boat party with Jackson?”

“He’s definitely not the same guy.” Antonia curls up her arm like she’s lifting a weight. “Did you see those biceps? Those surf camp babes must have been all over him.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say, dragging her toward class, though I have noticed that Sam has begun to fill out the last few months. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Wait a second,” Antonia says. “Zach Park might have a thing for you, but secretly you actually have a thing for Sam, don’t you? Since when? All along?

“Don’t be stupid,” I say. Antonia has teased me about having a crush on Sam ever since I told her about the one time we kissed on the bench last year. “I mean Sam’s a great guy, but I know him too well. There’s no mystery there.”

I think there was maybe a chance for us once, but after I cried on his shoulder after Ollie dumped me, I felt too awkward to let myself think about Sam that way. My feelings about our friendship were confusing. It felt natural to share the details about my relationships with him, but Sam would get hurt and never say anything. I couldn’t figure out where I stood with him. In some ways, I guess I’m still trying to solve that problem.

As Antonia and I enter the building, Jackson passes by with one of his friends. He doesn’t stop to talk, but as he walks by us he says, “Looking good, Liv.”

I roll my eyes at Antonia, hoping that I don’t look completely awkward. After the way he acted at the boat party, I feel like I’d better steer clear of him for a while. I definitely don’t want Zach’s best friend to think I’m into him. So I pretend not to hear Jackson, but Antonia notices him slapping his friend’s arm and laughing after they pass.

“What was that about?” Antonia asks.

I shrug. “Guys being guys, I guess.”

“Terrible excuse,” Antonia says. “What a creeper.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Sam has never liked him. Maybe he has something there.”

“I have a theory,” she says. “About Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t think of any reason he’d ever join speech and debate unless it’s for a...”

“...girl,” we say at the same time.

“Sam doesn’t do extracurricular stuff,” Antonia says. “He’s too busy studying or surfing.”

The greasy feeling in my stomach is getting worse. I want to ditch class, curl up under my blankets at home and fall asleep with my Frida painting watching over me.

“I’m guessing you want me to ask you more about your theory,” I say.

I can’t not ask. If I try to change the subject again, Antonia will really think something’s up with me and Sam, and Antonia is the worst about prying things out of me.

“Well,” Antonia says, “just by chance I saw him talking to Nina Jaggia outside the cafeteria on Tuesday.” She leads us past the school’s chapel and toward the off-white arches at the entrance of the classroom building. We’re on our way to US history.

“So?” I ask.

“So, Nina’s on the speech and debate team.”

“And?”

“Well you weren’t there. You didn’t see their body language.”

My pulse starts to speed up. It’s not entirely because of Sam, even though I am kind of hurt he hasn’t said anything to me. We’re about to cross paths with the school’s trio of most popular girls, including Cristina. Felicity and a girl named Amy Hernandez, a former Disney Channel dancer, are walking on either side of Cristina. This is about to be trouble.

I haven’t talked to Cristina beyond seeing her in the bathroom at the yacht party, but you can’t go to Eastlake and not know who she is. Her parents work for an Italian car company bringing in imports, and let me tell you they have millions, and even sponsor two Formula One cars and a portion of the privatized space industry—some kind of experimental engine called the X-Change.

And Cristina is really smart. Her robotics team won some major student competition last year, and all this was before she started dating Zach and snagged that major modeling campaign. She may have been following him around on the yacht, but I’m sure that was a one-night thing, because any guy would be following her around.

With her signature long red hair, Felicity completes the trio with her contacts in the art world. Her father works as a major collector for an international luxury goods conglomerate. They know everyone. If anyone is always going where I want to be, it’s Felicity. Only she doesn’t want to be an artist herself. She just wants the limelight.

Antonia hates them.

“Don’t look now, but here comes the Hydra,” Antonia says under her breath as we stop walking. They’re literally blocking our way through the archway into the building.

“Hi, ladies,” Felicity says.

“Be careful what you call them,” Amy says. The way Amy talks makes you wonder if she’s trying to be sarcastic or if she actually hates you.

“Hi,” I say, trying not to take offense.

“I heard you and Zach had quite the conversation on the yacht,” Cristina says. “He told me you were like a little puppy dog, following him around when I wasn’t in the room. That must have been annoying.”

I’m trying to like Cristina, but she’s not giving me much of a reason to—especially the way she was actually hanging all over him at the party even though, according to Zach, they had already broken up by then.

“I was talking to him about the show,” I say, trying to add to her jealousy since she obviously thinks she still has some kind of ownership over Zach. “I’ve seen every episode of Sisters & Mothers. It’s so addicting...”

Cristina suddenly cringes, looking at me strangely when I use that word, which I actually didn’t plan to say. Now I know she’s just as afraid of my revealing her secret about snorting up in the bathroom as I am of her revealing mine.

“You watch that show?” Amy laughs. “It’s terrible. Zach is way better than that role. Everyone knows that he’s going to be a big star someday.”

“I watch all kinds of shows,” I say, sensing Antonia’s blood boiling. I’m hoping she doesn’t go for Amy’s throat.

I pinch her discreetly so that she won’t say anything.

She lets out a little squeak.

“What’s that?” Amy says to Antonia. “I didn’t hear you.”

I pinch Antonia again. Harder.

“I didn’t say anything,” she says, squirming. “But we have to go study the Lake of Lerna.” That’s the lake where the Hydra lives. It’s also the entrance to the underworld.

“Lake of Lerna,” Amy repeats stupidly. “Sounds fascinating.”

“Should I ask what’s in that lake? Maybe we should test you,” says Felicity.

Antonia pops her gum. “Water serpents,” she enunciates slowly.

“So?” Felicity says.

Antonia goes for the subtle punch line even though I’m pinching her. “So, their heads grow back when they’re chopped off.”

“That’s gross.” Felicity doesn’t get the mocking humor. She turns to me. “I heard you’re into art.” How does she know this about me? Did Zach talk to her about our conversation on the boat? Why would she bring that up in front of Cristina?

“I’m thinking about going to art school after graduation.”

“That’s cool,” Felicity says, but she’s not really listening. “You must have heard about the opening of LeFeber’s new show in Laguna Beach?”

I squint at her in disbelief. She obviously wants to show off.

“Wasn’t he supposed to be at that party in Marina del Rey last week?” I ask, not wanting to get my hopes up again even though I still can’t get the thought of meeting LeFeber out of my head. It’s too bad that my only shot is probably going to be through Felicity, especially since she’s Cristina’s best friend.

“How am I supposed to know? Something came up, I guess,” she says like it’s no big deal. “His show is exclusive and it’s totally impossible to get on the list.”

“I saw the preview of one of his new pieces in ArtNews,” I say. “He’s one of my favorite living artists.”

I try to talk about how LeFeber tries to make his installations participatory—he doesn’t want people to just look at his art; he wants his audience to explore and interact with the installations—but Felicity interrupts me.

“Does he?” Felicity says. “Maybe we can bring you back an autograph. I’ll try to remember when my parents and I are having dinner with him before the show.”

Is she trying to make me jealous? Does she want me to beg for an invitation? Not going to happen. I really want to go, but I don’t want to owe her or Cristina anything.

“Exciting,” Cristina says, turning to me. “How’s your stomach?”

My muscles begin to tighten as anger rushes through my body. I want to say How’s your nose? But I hold my tongue. I get her point. She wants me to stay away from her man, and also to not do anything to threaten her.

So I just say, “Fine. It’s fine,” as Cristina and her friends walk away from us.

Antonia snickers in my ear. “The Hydra doesn’t even know I was making fun of their multiple snake heads.”

“Yeah.” That’s about all I can manage. I want to go to this LeFeber show. I have to find a way to get in, and Antonia probably isn’t going to be able to help this time. These girls have no idea how much his work means to me. LeFeber’s a brand name to them. When I look at his art, I get this feeling that he knows some deep secret about me though we’ve never met. It kills me to be so close and that I have to basically go through my crush’s ex—who obviously hates me—to meet him.

Antonia is disturbed by my response. “Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? Do you want to be friends with those snake heads? Don’t tell me it’s because of LeFeber.”

“I don’t know. It’s nothing,” I say, opening the door to the building. It’s getting close to the end of the passing period and the hallway is almost empty. My stomach churns. I shouldn’t have eaten so much this morning. The fat is making me feel sick. My energy is crashing from all the sugar in the iced coffee. The uncomfortable fullness nags at my mind. I feel like purging everything from my body to feel normal, but I fight it off.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” she says.

“Just drop it,” I say. “It’s not worth fighting over.”

“I need you to do something for me,” Antonia says, changing the subject. “It’s a date. You’d just have to come with me.”

“Um, no,” I say, not wanting to be a third wheel.

“Don’t say no yet—you haven’t even heard me out. It’s not a big deal.”

My stomach is in knots from the conversation with Felicity and seeing Jackson, but Antonia is my friend. She helped me get invited to the yacht party. I owe her a big one.

“Okay, what?” I ask.

“Don’t act so hurt. Geez...”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “My mind is just on other things.”

She smiles. “There’s one catch though.”

“See? I knew something was up.”

“I’m going out with a girl,” Antonia says. “Heather. Obviously.”

A boy from our class hurries down the hallway to the room, nodding at us as he passes. Antonia pulls me toward the wall and begins to whisper. “Look, I want to go out with Heather. Remember I told you about her? The girl from the track team?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Antonia. I’m totally cool with you going out with a girl. But I still don’t want to be your third wheel. It’ll be so awkward.”

“I want to make her feel more comfortable.”

“If she doesn’t want to go on a solo date, why can’t we just have a kick back or something? We could hang out at my house. Or yours.”

“It’s not the same. We need to go out together. I want her to feel accepted. She hasn’t told anyone she’s gay. I just think she’s going to feel more comfortable going out as like a group of friends. It’ll lessen the pressure.”

“I still don’t see how my going makes sense,” I say. “I don’t want to get in the way of your romance.”

“Well...” Antonia hesitates. “There’s something else. My cousin Mika is coming into town that weekend and my parents said I had to take her out to do something, but that happens to be the night I agreed to go with Heather. I can’t get around it.”

“So...” I cross my arms, waiting to hear the rest of Antonia’s story. I knew there was going to be more to her story. She always withholds information.

“She’s a little weird. Chatty. And I don’t want her to totally take over the date. I need someone to entertain her,” she says, looking up at me with pleading eyes.

The bell rings. I don’t want to be late for class.

“When’s the date?” I ask.

“End of next week,” Antonia says. “Plenty of time to think about it...”

“All right,” I say.

“All right?” She seems shocked I’ve already made up my mind.

“If it’s all about making your date feel accepted, then I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Exactly.” Antonia grabs my shoulder. “What could be wrong with that? I know of an all-ages place we can chill. Lots of people. Bands. Just hang out.”

I guess it’s also a good way to avoid Mason and the rest of my family for at least part of the weekend. Mika can’t be that bad. I’ll just have to make small talk.

“Yeah,” I say. “Sounds like a blast.”