JACKIE O
POOL
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 8TH
7:17 P.M.
Like a wild salmon trapped in a goldfish bowl, Allie swam fast and furious laps through the chlorinated water of the Jackie O lap pool. Jutting out from the bottom floor of their dome-shaped domicile, the lap pool was surrounded by curved glass walls that revealed a blazing pink sunset offset by swaying black palm fronds. But not even the postcard-pretty sky could make Allie happy tonight.
In an hour, every Alpha and all the BB’s would set sail in Shira’s faux-cean, enjoying the most inspirational and socially significant event of the semester. Everyone except Allie. She executed a swim-team captain flip when she reached the end of her lap, pushing off the wall of the pool as hard as she could, her arms frustration-flexing out in front of her in an annoyed, aggressive butterfly stroke. She could hardly believe she had resorted to faking sick at a time like this. And all because of her two least favorite letters in the alphabet: A and J.
Allie checked the wall clock—Mel should be here in fifteen minutes with chicken noodle soup and Scattergories, which meant it was time to get out of the pool, go upstairs, and practice her best sick-person sniffle. Ordinarily, the idea of being nursed back from the brink by a gorgeous boy while playing board games would be right up Allie’s alley, but not tonight. Tonight, she longed to dance under the moon, to sway on the water and show off her newfound connection with Mel. But she couldn’t.
Not after what happened this afternoon.
Allie grabbed the pool’s ladder with two hands and quickly hoisted herself out of the pool, automatically activating the motion-activated warming ray that beamed down from the ceiling. Standing under the red glow as the ray’s toasty air dried her skin and bathing suit, Allie squeezed her navy blue eyes shut. But the image of AJ rehearsing for the Muse Cruise stayed as vivid as if it were still happening.
Just a couple of hours ago, Allie had walked out of the theater arts mask after rehearsing a monologue with Careen. Still in character and whispering her lines as she walked, she nearly crashed into AJ, who was using the atrium of the mask as a rehearsal space. She was there with Tameeka Sands, her greenest groupie and number-one fan. Rushing past AJ and pretending to leave, Allie had darted behind a fern to listen in. AJ was finishing up singing another new song, and just like the others, it was all about Allie. The last two lines dug into Allie like the claws of a cat, ripping her good mood to shreds.
Here’s a role you may want to play, try acting like yourself one day
Kissing you sets boys’ lips on fire, nothing burns more than kissing a liar!
Tameeka clapped and whistled. “Nice! I love it,” she gushed.
“I’ve turned my identity theft experience into a song cycle,” AJ bragged breathlessly to Tameeka. “I almost have enough for my next album.”
So that was why AJ was so obsessed with Allie! Identity Theft was going to give her another platinum record! Allie fumed, her hands shaking with anger and frustration as she cowered behind the fern.
Tameeka flipped her braids from one shoulder to the other. “We’re all victims, if you think about it. We’re all trying to steal our identities back from corporate media and stuff.”
AJ adjusted her tam, nodding at Tameeka without really hearing her. “Uh-huh. I think this new track will sound great on the cruise.”
Say what?!
Allie’s heart throbbed, going from dismayed irritation into full-blown panic. If Mel heard AJ’s song cycle, he would change his mind about Allie for sure. Somehow, even the silliest sentiments were convincing when set to a strumming guitar. Mel would hum along. He’d wake up the next day singing AJ’s lame lyrics. Then he would set Allie aside like she was algebra homework on a sunny day.
So Allie had done the only thing she could to make sure Mel would never hear AJ’s slanderous singing. She’d faked a sore throat and texted Mel with the bad news, asking him if he could come take care of her. Luckily, he’d agreed.
Her hair ninety percent dry, Allie headed up the spiral staircase and into the Jackie O bedroom. After throwing on a shiny set of gold pj’s, she crawled into her bed and assumed the illin’ position. Under three blankets and propped up on five pillows, Allie turned to stare moodily at AJ’s bed, just two beds away from her own. It was unmade, with bunched-up blankets swirled in a pile in the center, its edges messily strewn with clothes and bottles of high-end organic moisturizer. Allie unwrapped her comforter and stood up, suddenly filled with righteous annoyance. If you want to clean the planet, maybe you should start with your bed!
Allie couldn’t stand looking at AJ’s disorganized mess another second. If she was stuck home all night, at least she could be stuck in a clean room. Shaking her head at the injustice of tidying up her enemy’s gross stuff, Allie headed toward AJ’s bed and started picking up after the singing slob.
“Eeek!” Allie shrieked in terror.
AJ’s comforter had moved! Did AJ have mice? Had she adopted a wild ferret and left it to fester in her bed while she went on the Muse Cruise? Allie didn’t want to find out, but she couldn’t just let vermin hang out two beds away from her. She gingerly pinched the edge of the covers between two fingers and quickly peeled it back from AJ’s mascara and foundation–smeared sheets.
“Oh! Sorry!” Allie put her hand to her mouth and dropped the covers—underneath them was no ferret. It was AJ herself, curled up in a tight ball, and looking even paler than usual. “I thought you were vermin.”
“Ugghh,” AJ groaned, pulling the comforter down around her neck. Her face was damp with sweat and whiter than Casper the Friendly Ghost. “I have brutal cramps. I can’t move.” AJ’s forest-green eyes focused on Allie’s and filled with tears, sending an unwelcome twinge of sympathy through her stomach.
Allie flashed AJ a pity-frown and furrowed her forehead as if she was deeply concerned for the songstress’ welfare. “That sucks, AJ. What about the cruise?” She gave herself an internal round of applause for playing the role of concerned roomie to perfection.
“I can’t go,” AJ moaned, rolling her eyes back in her head from pain or annoyance or both. “I can’t even move! It’s like knives are stabbing my stomach. I even recorded three new songs so that everyone could download them onto their aPods! I’ve been prepping for weeks!”
Did AJ really think Allie would be sympathetic to the fact that she couldn’t spread her slander at the cruise? “Tragic,” she said finally, shaking her head.
A moment later, as AJ went back to moaning and clutching her belly, a brilliant idea washed up on the shore of her mind. AJ wasn’t going to sing at the cruise, but maybe someone else could….
Allie ran to the bathroom and grabbed some Motrin, along with a handful of the homeopathic melatonin pills Skye swore cured insomnia instantly. She filled a beaker with filtered water and brought all of it to AJ’s bedside, channeling Nurse Nightingale.
“Here, sweetie, take this. It’s Motrin and homeopathic menstrual management pills. Should help with your cramps.” And put you to sleep.
AJ sat up in bed, weakly reaching for the water and downing all the pills without even looking at Allie. “Thanks,” she murmured, collapsing back onto her pillows. She was used to being waited on, Allie reminded herself. After all, the girl had been a huge star for the past three years. At that point, you took everyone’s kindness for granted. At least, that’s what Allie hoped for.
“I’ll tell the muses you aren’t feeling well. If you want, I could bring your music and we could play it on the boat. That way, it’ll be kind of like you’re there, even though you’re here.” Allie smiled brightly at AJ and tried to look like she didn’t care if AJ said yes.
AJ rubbed her eyes, then clutched her midsection with both tiny, scraggly hands. “Good idea,” she grunted. “Tell people all the songs are available to download. Give me your aPod—I’ll synch it with mine.” Allie handed her phone to the green meanie, her stomach cartwheeling at how easy AJ was making this.
AJ hunched over the phone for a minute, then put it into Allie’s waiting palm. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Allie said. “I’ll make sure they play it.” Just like I’m playing you.
“You’re the best,” AJ said. “Sorry about all those songs I wrote about you. It’s all, you know, just part of my creative journey. I had to hate you so I could write the songs.” AJ’s black hair fanned over her white pillowcase. Smiling up at Allie, she looked like a gothic princess suffering from tuberculosis.
Allie almost pitied her.
But not quite.
In fact, not at all. Definitely not enough to rethink her plan.
“Oh, totally. I get it,” Allie replied breezily, turning away from AJ and rolling her eyes. She needed to get dressed quick and get out of here if she was going to intercept Mel and make it onto the boat. “You just rest now. Try to sleep.”
“Thanks,” AJ turned over and moaned into her pillow before pulling her comforter back up over her head, high enough to cover her tangled mass of black hair. Not having time to wait for AJ to fall into a homeopathically enhanced sleep, Allie raced silently around the Jackie O bedroom, throwing on a stretchy silver minidress and an easily-ditched pair of mary janes. She quickly glossed her lips and lined her eyes in silver, and at the last second decided to dab on a few drops of AJ’s lavender essential oil. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, wishing she had time to primp a bit more. But her natural radiance would have to be enough for tonight—she didn’t have time for an elaborate home makeover. Allie pulled her blond hair into a high pony and threw in a pair of blue chandelier earrings to bring out her eyes.
Back in the bedroom, Allie shot a quick glance at AJ’s bed and silently cheered when she heard snoring coming from under the pile of blankets. Out cold! Next, she tiptoed to AJ’s closet and slid the door open with one finger. Her smile widened as she spotted what she was looking for: AJ’s acoustic guitar, a crocheted green tam and one of her white cotton thrift-store sack dresses. Giddy with excitement and anticipation, Allie grabbed the goodies and took off down the spiral staircase, not daring to look back. She bolted out the door of Jackie O and didn’t stop until she was halfway to the dock.
Panting, her hands shaking, she sent Mel a text.
Allie: Change of plans—I made a miraculous recovery. Meet me at the dock—time to cruise!
Allie’s mind raced even faster than her legs pumping toward the Muse Cruise. If tonight was anything like she hoped, Allie might achieve two impossible feats—she’d lock lips with Mel, beating out all the other Alphas in the contest to win the eldest Brazille brother, and she’d finally get AJ back for her musical hate-fest. After tonight, everything wrong in Allie’s life might suddenly be right.
Allie had one final, breathless thought before she reached the dock, running with AJ’s guitar clattering against her back and her huge tote bag swinging from her arm. She was finally becoming a true Alpha—ruthless, talented, and willing to do whatever it took to claw her way up the social ladder.