Chapter 9

High schools are pretty much the same no matter where you go. There is an elite crowd, the losers, and the majority middle who are trying to either obtain elite status, avoid falling into the loser category, or are just doing their best to survive until graduation, when there’s hope of a better life. There might be slight variations on what it takes to be in the cool crowd, but a safe bet is money, good looks, or athletic ability. If you manage to have two out of the three, or all three (a genetic home run), then you are destined to be popular.

I have zero out of the three. Generally, this doesn’t bother me. I’ve never been one of those girls who read all the teen magazines trying to glean advice on how to be popular. I’ve never cut my hair like a pop star’s. I never saw shaking my ass and a pair of pom-poms as a major life goal. Despite what the made-for-TV movies would lead you to believe is the dream of all teen girls, I have no major aspirations of having the star football player take me to prom, where I could lose my virginity in a glow of pink taffeta and the stink of a carnation corsage.

To be totally honest, most of the popular kids at my old school were dull. How many conversations can you have about the benefits of one brand of hairspray over another? I would rather tweeze my own eyebrows with kitchen tongs than spend hours dissecting who wore what to the dance and how so-and-so asked someone else’s boyfriend to dance, and oh my God did you see her hair? I mean, really, who cares?

Anita and I weren’t bitter outsiders who hated popular kids and secretly plotted their demise because in our hearts we wanted to be one of them. We had our own thing going. We had our own hangouts, friends, and hobbies. The popular crowd was an abstract concept for me. Sort of like the country Bora Bora. I know it exists, but it has no impact on my life whatsoever. I didn’t expect things to be any different in my new school. Especially after all the strange looks I got by sitting with Nathaniel at lunch.

This is why I was totally shocked when Nicole Percy sat next to me on the bleachers in gym while our teacher set up the volleyball net. I hadn’t been at this school for even a full day and I had already identified Nicole as the queen bee. I would have had to have severe social retardation not to notice that she was the most popular girl this island had going. She was most likely awarded prom queen status while still in elementary school. Nicole is one of those people who exude popularity. When she walks down the hall, people part in front of her and a gaggle of wannabes trail in her wake. She’s blond (of course), and pretty, and her teeth are unnaturally white. Crest should sponsor this girl. When she sat next to me and smiled, I had to look away to avoid being blinded.

“So what do you think of Nairne?” Nicole tossed her hair, showing off shimmering highlights. “It must seem like the middle of nowhere after living in Seattle.”

“It’s okay.” I wasn’t stupid enough to insult her hometown. This was clearly one of those situations where if I called this place the armpit of Washington, the quote would end up in the local paper and I’d be pelted with rocks whenever I went out in public.

“It must be hard to transfer your senior year.”

“You do what you gotta do.” I was proud of myself for not calling her Captain Obvious. I couldn’t figure out why she was talking to me. Either she mistakenly believed I was some sort of a volleyball genius and wanted me on her team, or she was working on her Girl Scouts Friendly to Strangers badge.

“If you need anything, you can just ask me,” Nicole offered. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Hey, you should have lunch with me tomorrow. Then I can introduce you to everyone.”

“Sure. That would be nice.” I was careful to hide my surprise. Maybe the popularity threshold was lower here, and I was getting bonus points for being from the big city. Nicole was a bit perkier than I preferred, but who was I to be so choosy in the friend department? She seemed nice. It would be great to have someone to hang with, since it wasn’t like I could call Anita every second, especially since she was so busy hanging out with Sharon.

Nicole smiled even wider. Her teeth looked like Tic Tacs. Perfectly white, perfectly shaped. “Do you want a ride home after school? I’ve got a car.”

“I’d love a ride, but I live way out of town.”

“I know where you live.” Her eyes flashed. “Small town, you know, we know everything.”