THESE HALLS AREN’T BIG
ENOUGH FOR THE BOTH OF US
Wednesday, 3:09 P.M.
That afternoon when the girls and I congregated at my locker, Molly was still fuming over Stevie’s diss.
“I can’t even believe she talked to me like that in front of everybody.” She kicked the vent on the locker next to mine, leaving a jagged scrape on the toe of her brand-new equestrian-style boots. “Ugh!” She flung herself against the painted locker door. “Now Sheila owes me a new pair of boots plus an apology.”
“It’s Ste—” The murderous squint in Molly’s eye made me reconsider. “Never mind.” I refocused on my combination lock, twisting the dial until I heard a click. Despite the usual post-bell free-for-all whirling around us, I’d never felt more at peace. I’d invited the girls over for our very first Party Planning Committee meeting. I was hoping I’d be able to deliver the good news that I’d booked a band—my band—but I still hadn’t heard back from Dr. Phil. The waiting was forcing my Restless Leg Syndrome into overdrive.
“I can’t figure Stevie out.” Liv crossed one vegan oxford thoughtfully over the other. “She seemed so confident—”
“Egotistical,” I corrected.
“—and centered. But in a mean way, kind of.”
I loved that Liv always tried to see the good in people. But finding the good in Stevie would require a high-powered microscope. That is, if there was any good to be found.
“There’s a word for people like her.” Nessa shuffled the pack of neon-orange flash cards she’d made during study hall. “Narcissist.”
“Agreed.” It was a given that the girls would back me up. But it still felt good to know that they were on my side 100 percent again.
“I don’t get it. Why would Z like a girl like that, anyway?” Molly looked more lost, hopeless, and scared than when she’d accidentally been enrolled in Honors Algebra. “Why would any guy?”
“Mols!” Liv said reproachfully. “To be fair, we don’t actually know her, like, as a human being.”
“Hey, Kacey? Kace!”
I turned and saw Zander and Stevie, speedwalking down Hemingway, the seventh-grade hall, Zander’s blue streak darting through the crowd like a tiny tropical fish swimming upstream. Molly whipped her hair over her shoulder with gale-strength force and glared at Stevie, who was wearing a black camisole under an open-weave crocheted top.
“He is not about to rub that girl in my face,” Molly grumbled under her breath. “If Phoenix weren’t busy being in high school right now, I’d—”
“Good. I found you. You’ve been tough to hunt down lately, you know that?” Zander puffed, nudging my locker door closed. “So’d you get my text?”
“Sorry. I’ve been MIA with my new BF.” Molly pinched a piece of hair between her index finger and thumb, and pretended to inspect her ends.
“Oh. I, uh, was talking to Kacey.” Zander’s shoulders twitched. “But that’s… good. Good for you.” He glanced up again and nodded at Nessa and Liv. “Hey. You guys remember Stevie, right?”
“Hey.” A single head nod, nothing more. Good girls.
Stevie’s cobalt-winged eyes cut accusingly to me. “He’s texted you a million times.” She cocked her head to one side. “It’s like, I hear you saying you’re committed to the band. But I’m just not seeing it.”
I pressed my lips together to contain the primal scream fighting to get out. I wanted to put her in her place right here, right now. Tell her I’d booked a major gig for the band. But I’d promised myself I wouldn’t mention talking to Dr. Phil until I officially had the green light. There would be nothing more horrifying than admitting failure like that in front of Stevie.
“So… are you coming to rehearsal, then?” Zander asked hopefully. “We’re starting an hour late ’cause I have to take my sister over to a friend’s house.”
“Sorry.” Molly squeezed my arm. “She’s with us this afternoon.”
“You are?” There was a thin metallic edge to Zander’s voice.
“It’s just one afternoon. I have to take care of something.” I felt the sharp sting of anger traveling through my shoulders and back. What right did Zander have to judge me when he was the one who’d ruined practice the other day with his West Coast import?
Zander stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down. “Gotcha.”
“No worries. You girls can hit the mall or whatever it is you do around here.” Stevie unzipped her slouchy emerald messenger bag and produced yet another bag of Swedish Fish. “Besides, I wanted to play Goose a couple of songs I wrote on the plane. They’re duets. You’d be bored.”
I froze in front of my locker, my tongue thick in my mouth. Say something! Don’t let her do this! But something about Stevie left me paralyzed, unable to form the words to tell her off. And before I could move, she’d hooked her elbow through Zander’s and led him back down the hallway.
Thirty minutes later, the girls and I were tucked safely away in my bedroom, where there was virtually no chance of any contact with Zander or She Who Was Ruining My Life. Just to be sure, I powered off my phone and stuffed it under my pillow.
“And seriously? That eyeliner made her look like a parrot or something,” Nessa cracked. “She’s obviously compensating for something.” She turned back to the chalkboard wall and cleared the patch of board next to my bed, dragging an eraser in careful, even strokes from ceiling to floor.
“Tacky Wanna Cracker?” Molly’s head popped out of the photo booth, where she was taking self-portraits in my still-tagged silk fuchsia minidress. “This is super cute. Can I wear it to the dance?”
“Yeah, if I don’t.” I sat cross-legged on the bed, hugging a throw pillow that smelled like Ella.
“Girls. Focus.” Liv was doing a headstand on the wall opposite my bed. In one smooth move, she kicked her bare feet to the floor and whipped her body upright. Her face was flushed with determination. “I did not like the way that girl talked to us. Especially you, Kacey.”
I hugged a pillow to my chest. “I know. And she’s here for two whole weeks! Possibly forever!”
“If we can figure out what makes her tick, we’ll know exactly what it’ll take to keep her in her place.” Nessa crossed the room and pulled a fresh box of colored chalk from my desk drawer. She selected a yellow piece and returned to the board. “Like, what are her insecurities? Her fears?” She wrote WEAKNESSES in all caps and underlined it three times.
“That’s the thing! It’s like she doesn’t have any,” I complained. “Have you guys seen the way she is around school? One day in a brand-new school and she’s acting like she runs the place!”
“Her wardrobe is obviously not her weakness,” Liv mused appreciatively. “She’s got killer style.”
Molly and I both glared at her. “Thanks.”
“I bet she doesn’t have any girlfriends.” Molly plopped next to me on the bed. “She’s always super nice to Zander, but she’s been mean to us from the start. It’s like she’s threatened by girls, or doesn’t know how to be friends with them, or something.”
The rest of us were stunned into momentary silence.
“What?” Molly breathed.
“That’s actually… pretty insightful.” Nessa frowned, writing INSECURE AROUND OTHER GIRLS on the board. “What else?”
“If she’s insecure about other girls, we could get every girl in the grade to freeze her out.” Liv’s brow knitted together. “Remember, like we did to Fiona Schiller when she almost got valedictorian last year?”
“It wasn’t fair!” Nessa blurted. “She wasn’t even taking any honors classes, and I was taking three!” The chalk snapped between her fingers.
“We know, Ness,” I said soothingly. “But we can’t do a freeze-out again. It’s too mean.”
Nessa and Fiona Schiller had been neck and neck for the valedictorian spot all year long. Losing the title would have sent Nessa into a full-blown meltdown. So the week before finals, I ordered every other girl in sixth to give Fiona the silent treatment. With the exception of Paige and Fiona’s best friend, Jenny Hu, the grade had complied. Fiona had been so devastated that she hadn’t even bothered to get out of bed on the day of her last final. I winced. Not one of my prouder moments, and definitely not an option. Even with Gravity and my relationship with Zander at stake. Zander would never forgive me.
Molly sighed. “Plus, if she only cares about guys, it might not even bother her.”
“Ugh. True,” Liv conceded.
“This sucks.” I massaged my throbbing temple. It was like there was nothing we could do to convince Stevie from Seattle to make an early departure. She was untouchable.
And then my phone buzzed with a text.
DR. PHIL: UR ON. GO GET ’EM.
“Ohmygod. Guys!” I sat up on my bed, momentarily recharged. I’d done it! “I booked Gravity for the dance!”
“You what?” Molly’s voice was pinched, her face pink. “Without asking me?”
“I did it for you,” I said quickly, recalculating my approach and tamping a celebratory squeal—at least until I got Molly onboard. “We needed a band, right? And if Gravity’s playing the dance, we’ll need more rehearsal time. Which means more time for me to keep an eye on Zander, like I promised.”
“And more time for you to get the inside scoop on Stevie,” Nessa added. “So we can figure out her weak spots. Psychologically speaking.”
I sent her silent Thank you vibes. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure. They’ve never hired a live band before.”
“Okaaaay.” Molly tucked her blunt blond bob behind her ear. “If you really think you can get some good intel. I want Stevie out of Chicags ASAP.”
“You and me both.” A fresh wave of determination washed over me as I took in my friends’ pleading expressions. Marquette was our school, and Gravity was my band.
I glanced at the clock. It was 4:30 P.M. “If I hurry, I can make it to rehearsal before they get started and give them the good news.” I leapt off the bed and jammed my feet into the closest pair of sneakers I could find.
“Woo-hoo!” Molly hooted. “Go get her!”
“Now?” Nessa laughed. “You’re going over there now?”
“You know of a better time?” I reached for my messenger bag and skidded down the steps as my girls cheered me on.
Stevie was about to find out just how committed I could get.