Cameo (10 page)

“What was that?” Cindy sounded impressed. I thought she was going to get out of her seat and bow down. Then again, knowing Cindy, she probably had thought of it.

“What?” I whispered innocently.

“No one has been able to lock that down all year. Do not screw this up with your scary, church-girl act, like you're a saint or something. You came in looking all cool like this was finally your big comeback and then, at the last second, you punked out. Not cool.”

I'm not sure why Mr. Sui felt compelled to read the morning handouts aloud to the entire class. The words, Graduation Check List, written in large red letters across the top like a warning letter ensured that we were all reading that announcement the moment it got into our hands. Some of us even looked over our neighbor's shoulder to read it if our neighbor snagged a copy before it came around to our row. There was change in the air. Cindy and I looked at each other, knowing the same thing was on both of our minds. She shook her head as if to say, “Yeah, it's coming.”

“Graduation,” I said.

“The big G. I'm just hoping for a new car,” Cindy said.

I wondered what my hopes were for graduation besides putting all this menial popularity, “high school” stuff behind me and excelling based on my brains in college. I looked back at Jason, and he looked up from his graduation notice at me. I smiled. He smiled as his eyes dove back down to his
paper. He was like no other boy I had ever met. Now I knew what that meant; it was a really good thing.

I turned back around to my lonely spiral notebook. I pulled out a little folded note that was peeking out right underneath the back cover. I waved the silly note in front of Cindy's face.

“I didn't know we'd turned the clock back to paper and pen,” I said.

“I try to avoid using my notebook as often as possible. That did not come from me!” Cindy reached for the note. I pulled it back.

The last time she had gotten hold of a note written to me she read it aloud to the entire class. I quote: “Nia,” she'd said like one of those overzealous beefcake men on the cover of a romance novel, with all this fake bass in her voice. “You look hot today. Pick you up after practice. Craig,” she finished.

I had been mortified. Then the girl sitting next to me—note: I'd never spoken to her a day in my life—leaned over and said, “I would kill to be you right now.” I'd always thought she was so smart. Then it hit me that everyone wanted a life, a boyfriend, and popularity. I was living the dream for every beautiful, smart girl like me. What a crock! That's the thing about epiphanies, they are highly contextually based. From the inside of the popularity group, things seemed much different than from the outside looking in. I was almost ashamed at how gullible I had become. I was easily beguiled by my fake friends and my fake popular status. Many of those fake friends were in my same homeroom class. They watched me like a hawk when my back was turned. But if I glanced in their direction, they'd put on a forced, uncomfortable half smile in an attempt to be civil. I didn't waste my time. I just looked right past them.

Anyway, to prevent another public offering of my private information, I slipped the note into my bra strap.

“Oh, no, you didn't!” Cindy said.

I snapped my finger in Cindy's face and said, “Don't act like you don't know.”

Cindy and I both laughed.

“Shhh!” Mr. Sui said.

The morning announcements started on the PA system. In a few moments, Cindy would become bored of this note and start to check her morning text messages—at least, that's what I was hoping for. Cindy had girlfriends who spilled their guts about their romp fests to her via text and guy friends who sent her offers for after-school dates via text. She had a busy inbox. There were some guys she liked and some guys that only wished she liked them. So most of those offers went unanswered, but they made good topics of conversation.

I quietly dragged the note from my bosom—as if! Anyway, the note said: “Check the basement at 4 p.m. They who wears a white hat and has taken from you that which they fear, you have re-gained only to shame them will make a Cameo.”

I was sure this had been written by Taekwondo Girl. It was in her same proverb speech pattern. Weird. She must be in this homeroom. Cindy would know. I slipped the note in my back pants pocket.

“Listen, do you know anyone who speaks like a prophet?”

“No. Why?” Cindy asked.

I shrugged, and stood up. Homeroom was going to be over in 30 seconds. Jason started walking toward me when Cindy snatched the note from my back pocket.

“You should keep your jeans baggy if you don't want every crease or note imprint to show,” Cindy said.

Jason and I stood in each other's presence without saying a word. I couldn't read what he was thinking.

“All right,” I said.

I picked up my lone book and left, but not before grabbing the note back from Cindy. Jason followed behind me.

“What makes you think I didn't let you see that note?” I texted Cindy.

Jason and I continued down the hall, side by side, like an item.

“I hope you know I have no idea where we're going since I'm walking
you
to class,” he said.

“I'll hold your hand to make sure you don't lose your way,” I said.

“Make sure you want to,” he said.

“Who gave you the note?” Cindy texted.

Unfortunately, I had to let go of his hand to text back. I knew he might not like that, but such is life. “Just on my desk. Ever heard of a popular society that initiates freshmen?” I texted.

“Where did you hear that?” she texted right back.

“Don't know,” I texted.

“Want to check out?” she texted.

“Think I have to,” I texted.

“What do you mean?” she texted.

“Will explain later,” I texted. I put my phone away. Jason took my hand back.

I was trying to figure out what to say. “Here it is,” I said.

I stopped just shy of the classroom door. As I faced him, I noticed something strange in my eye line. Right across from the classroom door was the word “Cameo” written in red lipstick. I tapped Jason on the shoulder. I couldn't take my eyes off the writing on the wall. This was downright peculiar.

“Do you see that, babe?”

First he looked at me strangely, and then he turned around to the wall. I couldn't believe I had the guts to call him “babe.” I could feel my heart fluttering.

“Why does it say ‘Cameo'? Like that song?” he asked.

“I don't know.”

The second bell rang, and that meant it was time to get to class.

“Guess she's found herself another sucker,” Lucy said.

“Uh, ew-u. Why does every boy want to slum for her?” Michelle asked Lucy.

Jason looked at them angrily.

“She is such a creep,” I said.

“I'm late, and you're late. I'll meet you back here, babe.” He winked at me. I laughed. The wink was so cheesy. Not that I was judging him. I was more amused than anything.

Most girls had a boyfriend, went to prom, and lived happily ever after … until summer, that is. Summer always changed relationships. Summer was on its way. Why were we starting this thing up?

Did everything in my life have to be so complicated?

The day was all too long. Cindy was missing from lunch. I had to sit with some of my AP English classmates. All they talked about was their parents. They quoted their mothers' every word. Their mom liked this and that. Why did their mom think she could shop at Forever 21? Why did she hate their boyfriend? Whatever, whatever. I had my share of complaints about my trendy mom, but there were far more interesting things to do at lunch than talk about my parents. For one thing, I was bursting at the seams with this “Cameo” secret. And then there was the whole Jason thing. Plus, I wanted to discuss the strategy for 4 p.m. I started to text the whole thing to Cindy after I thought up the name “Project Cameo.” I was even writing in spy code: “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is simple. At 1600 hours you will …” etc., etc., etc.

Fortunately, I remembered that a real spy would never leave a paper trail. The last thing I needed was some trouble getting my cap and gown or a big question mark above my name in the yearbook because Cindy had forwarded the message to a few of her other friends. Sometimes Cindy was a little unpredictable. Plus, Jane had a habit of rifling through Cindy's cell phone during gym class while the teacher took attendance.

It was 2:05 p.m. Jason should've been there to meet me five minutes ago. Conveniently enough, I didn't know his class schedule. But it was less than two months to graduation; it would be silly to try to learn it now. It was better for him to be concerned with my schedule instead.

I had two hours to kill before the mission. Suddenly, these really big, warm hands covered my eyes. “Guess who?”

“I don't know. Is it the guy who was supposed to be here five minutes ago?”

“It is if he is talking to the girl who won't cut him any slack.”

I definitely heard Jason. He let his hands down and met me with an unmistakably gorgeous smile.

“My last teacher wanted to go over my term project with me,” he said.

My cell phone buzzed.

“What are you doing?” Cindy texted.

“In hall,” I texted.

“Meet front entrance 3:45,” she texted.

“Inside building,” I texted.

“Who u wit,” Cindy texted.

“New beau.”

“Ew-u, beau so last semester.”

“Feeling nostalgic.”

Jason rubbed elbows with me.

“What are you doing?”

“I don't know. Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked.

“You have practice today.”

“Word. At three,” he said.

“Let's get smoothies,” I said.

“You seem like more of a frappuccino girl to me,” he said.

“Ah, you have a lot to learn,” I said. That was my best try at sounding mysterious.

“Can we meet earlier, will be free at 3,” I texted Cindy.

“Who are you texting?” Jason asked.

“Were you looking over my shoulder? You know I have privacy issues as it is,” I said. I put my hand on his broad chest and pushed him away from me. “It was just Cindy,” I said. “Babe,” I added. Then I laughed. It was all so odd.

“You know, I like it when you call me that,” he said.

Was that a joke? I hated it when guys said things like they were jokes but really meant them. It was their sly way of seeing your reaction to how they really felt.

Although we'd just shared our likes and dislikes and hobbies and all that getting-to-know-you stuff at the pizza joint/smoothie palace around the corner, I wasn't ready to kiss him yet. I'm sure Cindy knew far less about Peter before she had gotten entangled with him, yet I was kind of prudish, I guess. I hate that word—prude—it reminded me of a prune, all dried up and wrinkly.

I was about to be bum-rushed by every student celebrating the final school bell of the day in two minutes. Jason and I stood silently in the quiet hallway.

“Well, thanks for lunch.”

“Lunch?” Apparently that was the wrong term in his book.

“A snack,” I corrected myself.

“So can I pick you up tomorrow?” he asked.

I waited five seconds before I answered to add to my mysterious demeanor. “I guess that could work,” I said.

“Guess?”

“That's right. I guess. Babe,” I said.

“Nia!” Cindy yelled from the other end of the hallway as she spearheaded the student body walking behind her toward the exit. Oh, gosh. I watched his every move as he came closer to me,
pretending I didn't hear Cindy calling me. I found myself leaning back away from him. He came very close to my face. I put my hand on his cheek. I closed my eyes and held my breath. He kissed my cheek.

“Relax,” he said.

I was disappointed. The heck with that stupid note, I wanted to spend the whole afternoon with him. But this was yet another way to burn out a relationship, spending too much time with your boyfriend. I watched Cindy gallop down the hallway after she'd gotten an eyeful of Jason and me. Jason looked at his watch. Cindy waited for me at our locker.

“I'm going to walk you to your locker.”

“Okay,” I said.

He put his arm around me while the crowds of kids passed us. I guessed anybody who didn't know before would know now.

“This is official. Right?”

Was he asking me or telling me? “If you're asking, then, yeah, we're official,” I said.

“Are you hanging around school?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I could've given you a ride home.”

Had I just lied to my boyfriend? That must be a record—they were going out for sixty seconds before she lied to him. Ever notice that when you tell a small lie, it feels like you've left your body just for the part of the conversation that was the lie and returned just in time for the truth? It's like when I said “no,” I didn't really say “no.” I wouldn't lie to my boyfriend.

“Well, I might be around for a few minutes, you know, but … uh … I won't be here that late. I'll get a ride with Cindy,” I said.

“So I'll call you tomorrow to pick you up.”

“Yes. Bye.” I smiled.

I turned to Cindy who was soaking up every moment of this. I couldn't shake the smile off my face.

“In case you didn't realize it, you are now part of the after-school report,” Cindy said.

“What after-school report?” I asked.

“We just started it last week for seniors only. It's the 411 on everything prom. According to this, you may be back in the running for prom queen. An anonymous person is encouraging people to submit you for the write-in vote,” Cindy said.

I jerked her arm to see what she was talking about. “This is unreal.” I took her phone out of her hand, hit reply, and started to type: “Nia is not going to prom. She's boycotting it. Do not vote for her. Rumors about her new boyfriend aren't true.” I pressed send.