Identity Crisis (8 page)

She clutches my arm and glances around the courtyard to make sure no one else is listening. “Guess what I heard. Ethan says Cooper was talking about Annalise, yesterday at lunch.” Eva's older brother, Ethan, a junior, was on the lacrosse team, too; the lax guys all tended to sit together like a herd of cattle. “Saying he's going to ask her out. Today. The guys were giving him a hard time, but he was defending her.”

She looks indignant that anyone would stick up for her nemesis, but I smile inwardly. It's one of the qualities I admire most in Cooper. He doesn't care what the masses think; he makes his own judgments. Does Annalise even appreciate that? Probably not. Or at least, not like I do.

“So, it's over.” I shrug in defeat. Cooper is definitely into Annalise. What more can be done?

“It's
not
over,” Eva says emphatically, jabbing me in the arm. “She's not going to say yes to Cooper. Not when she's all jazzed about meeting Declan at that concert thingie today. Good thing she's already taken.”

I'm not convinced a date with Declan, the homeschooled Cyrano, will outshine an offer from the real-life Cooper, especially when Declan's about to stand her up big time. “Yeah,” I say, “but how's she going to feel when Declan doesn't show?”

Eva dismisses my fears with a wave of her hand. “So, something came up, right? A family emergency. Stomach bug. Train derailment. She'll forgive him, I'm sure. Maybe we should send her flowers afterwards. Like, to apologize?” She beams, pleased with her brilliance.

I say I'm not sure, that maybe she won't buy it, maybe she won't forgive him.

“Look,” she says, frowning. “Maybe you really
can't
handle this—” She stops herself short, like there's more she knows but is not saying. Why? I stare at her, wondering if she knows I already messed up once before, whether Tori has betrayed my confidence.

I mumble that I've got it under control.

“You sure? Because, I mean, I'm swamped with rehearsals and stuff. But I can take over if you can't.”

My mind races in alarm as I imagine Eva going back and reading all the intimate conversation threads between me and Annalise—things that I'd never discuss with her. And then there is that last discussion, mentioning what happened with Amos. She'll hit the roof.

So I tell Eva it's fine, that I can do it. But there's one thing still bothering me. “What's the point?” I ask her. “Even if she turns Cooper down. He's still into
her
. Not me. Nothing's going to change that.”

She smiles confidently and says brightly, “Hello, rebound? She turns him down, but who's there to comfort him? Who's there to hear him out? You are, Noey. You're always there for him, and he never sees it. But this time, that's going to change. After math class, we're going to march over to his desk and ask him to study with us after school for the test. That's easy enough, right?”

Easy like walking the plank. But Eva's confidence can be infectious, so I nod okay, even though my stomach contracts at the thought. Our plan is to casually tell Cooper we'll be studying at my house and ask if he wants to come, too. “And then when she turns him down, he'll come running to tell you all about it. It'll work. Trust me.”

I want to trust her. I always have. It's all I know how to do.

Eva and I happen to arrive at the door to math class at the exact same time as Cooper.

“Hey, No,” he says with a big lopsided grin that liquefies me. “Eva,” he nods politely. I smile back, trying not to wince at his nickname for me. No—it's not hard to read the subliminal message of rejection tucked in there.

On the board, Ms. Pinella has written in big scrawling letters: MATH TEST TOMORROW. REVIEW CHAPTERS 1–7. While everyone else goes over the material, I study Annalise instead, noticing that she has made an extra effort today. She's wearing these long dangling earrings I've never seen before and blown out her reddish hair, all to dazzle the boy I've invented, who exists somewhere between her head and my laptop. I can see her anticipation in the way she holds her body erect, alert and poised for the events that lie ahead. I see Cooper, also dazzled, glancing her way, trying to whisper something to her, and she shakes her head and shushes him, as if she doesn't want to miss a single word of Mrs. Pinella's fascinating review.

Forty minutes that feel like forty seconds later, the bell rings and Eva mouths, “Ready?” I am anything but, even though she comes up behind me, puts a hand on my hip like we are doing the Bunny Hop at my cousin Frieda's wedding, and guides me right toward Cooper.

When I arrive at his desk, I realize, sure enough, he is already halfway though the same invitation to someone else.

Her.

“ . . . study together after school?” Cooper is saying to Annalise, as I freeze, standing there awkwardly. But then I see her lips falter, and I feel sorry for him because I know what he doesn't: Poor Coop doesn't stand a chance because she already has epic plans after school today. With “Declan.”

Sure enough, she turns him down flat. “Sorry,” she frowns. “There's this giveaway for Brass Knuckles tickets at the mall. I'm going to try to win them.”

Eva and I exchange looks of elation; our plan is actually working.

“Brass Knuckles?” Before Cooper can help himself, he blurts out. “They were on SNL last month, right? That lead singer's such a pretty boy . . .”

Annalise's whole body stiffens. “He is not. Like, he may be hot, but he doesn't care about superficial stuff. For your information, his charity helps kids born with messed up faces and stuff. He's all about keeping it real.”

Cooper snorts something under his breath.

Eva slides into the conversation. “Cooper, you're an idiot. That band is awesome. I heart Viggo.”

Y
ou do?
I almost say. Since when does Eva love Brass Knuckles? Since when does she even know the lead singer's name? What is she up to? Annalise looks equally surprised, probably that Eva would actually agree with her on anything.

“Noelle!” She spins in my direction. “We should totally go try to win tickets too!” It's an Oscar-winning performance, like the idea actually excites her. I stare at her in confusion, startled by this turn of events. Once Cooper realizes Annalise is busy, won't he accept the invitation to study with us instead? Wasn't that the plan? Wasn't that
our
plan?

“Um, I dunno,” I stammer, giving her a
look
. “There's no way we'll actually win. Shouldn't we just, um, study? At my place?”

But she just shakes her head at me meaningfully and says, “Come on Noey, don't be so uptight. We can study after. We definitely can't miss this. I'll tell Tori.” And just like that, the decision is made.

Too late, I realize Eva's agenda is slightly different than mine. I know exactly what she wants—what she's always wanted. To be there in person to watch Annalise squirm. It's not enough to orchestrate it. She wants to watch it go down: Annalise getting stood up, her reaction when she realizes Declan isn't coming. It's become a show to her. Live theater. The sport of another's misfortune, like cock fighting or YouTube bloopers.

Cooper and Annalise are still sparring over the lead singer, oblivious to our standoff. “Doesn't the guy have, like blue hair?”

“Yeah, so?”

“And he sings like this?” He curls his lip, grabs a pen as a pretend microphone, and does a remarkably good impression of Viggo Witts.

Annalise is so pissed she's practically steaming like an espresso machine. “He sings nothing like that! He's got an awesome voice.”

This is better than I expected. Things between them are falling apart in front of my eyes. Cooper is a lunkhead if he thinks he will score points with her this way. Maybe I have nothing to worry about. Even as his biggest fan, I have to admit, the boy has absolutely no filter. And he seems to finally figure that out, a beat too late.

“Look,” he says, retreating. “I'll go with you, help you win some tickets. Then we can study at the mall. Grab some food? Sound like a plan?”

But she cannot be swayed. “Actually, I'm meeting someone else there.”

“Oh, really?” Eva says, snaring Annalise in her Venus flytrap. “Who?”

Annalise looks like a child whose hand has been caught in the cookie jar. “A friend,” she finally says.

Cooper appears crestfallen at this news.

“What's his name?” Eva presses.

“You don't know him,” she says, her cheeks turning ever so pink. “He doesn't go here.”

“So, how'd you meet?” Cooper asks, and I can't help but think that if he were an M&M, this time, he'd be green, only with jealousy instead of lust.

“Online.”

“Oh, so it's like a blind date?” Eva gushes, pulling out an Altoid and popping it in her mouth. “That's so cute.”

Cooper looks annoyed. “You're meeting some guy that you met on the Internet? Are you sure he's not a freak?”

“He's not a freak.” Her face twists with annoyance, as if she has heard this before.

“How do you know?”

“I just . . . do. He's amazing. He's super smart and cool and he gets me. And, he gets Brass Knuckles.” She glances at Cooper and I can see the dig makes him wince. But I am somewhat flattered to have my alter ego given such a rave review. Who knew I was amazing? Cooper, my lifelong crush, clearly doesn't think so, and my best friend Eva doesn't think so, but Annalise does. My torn loyalties inch back a sliver in her favor.

“Well, good luck,” he says to Annalise, as the room begins to fill for the next period. “I hope you win.”

Eva sticks out her lower lip and fake pouts. “Aren't you going to wish me luck too?”

Cooper swings his gaze to Eva. “Yeah, but somehow, Eva, I don't think you need it.” I try to stifle a laugh as she frowns, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

I make one last attempt to salvage the situation. “You could come along with us, you know.” My words smack of desperation, I know, but what else can I do?

Cooper mentally weighs the options; joining us, but having to watch Annalise fawn over some other guy. “Nah, I'll catch you next time. Better hit the books.” He shifts his book bag onto his shoulder and calls across the room. “Yo Tyler, man, wait up!”

Eva takes my arm and guides me toward the door, but not before she stops to wave her hand at Annalise. “See you there, A. Can't wait to meet this dream guy.” And I'm left to wonder: Does Eva care at all about getting Cooper and me together, like she said? Or is she only out for one thing: revenge?

“WELCOME KNUCKLIES!”

When I finally arrive at the Prudential Center, it is packed. Beyond packed. It is like Black Friday and Christmas Eve and the line for Space Mountain, all rolled into one. I elbow my way through the mass of bodies, following the bright yellow banner directing me to the main atrium, where the giveaway will take place.

One good thing about this crowd—there's no way Eva Winters and her crew will ever be able to find me. I still don't get why she made such a big deal about coming. On what planet is she a Brass Knuckles fan? Planet PissMeOff, that's where. She still hasn't gotten over what happened last year, that's for sure. And I still can't get over the look of surprise on Cooper's face when I'd declined his study date. Like I was the first girl in all of humankind ever to turn him down. I would have felt bad if he hadn't gone and called Viggo a pretty boy and mocked his singing style, just like I predicted he would.

As I push my way toward the central court, I hear the familiar intro chords of “Identity Crisis,” and for a second, my belly cartwheels and I think the rumors are true and the band is actually here, surprising us all with a live appearance. Then I come around to the front of the stage and realize it is just two chubby old DJs from the radio station sitting behind a table, with two ginormous speakers set up alongside them, blasting the recorded music. In front of them, a pit of girls my age in tight jeans and wedge heels, all wearing yellow wristbands, is writhing and spinning like a school of eels, mouthing along to the lyrics. I wonder if Juniper77 and DaisyFlour84 are here like they said they'd be. I've chatted with them for hours about Viggo's life story, but I realize I wouldn't recognize them even if I ran smack dab into them.

A huge line, set off by purple velvet ropes, snakes around the room. I find the end of it, and while I'm waiting, the song finishes up and one of the DJs announces that they'll be calling the winning number in about twenty minutes. When finally I reach the front, a woman in white jeans, a blazer, and a T-shirt that reads WXKS ROCKS! takes my ten bucks and efficiently cuffs me with a yellow wristband with the number 245674 printed on it. “Good luck,” she says with a smile, handing me something rolled up in a tube. “Your poster. Don't lose it.”

“Thanks,” I say, grasping it carefully in my other hand so it doesn't get crushed and wading back into the throng toward the information booth, where Declan had said we should meet once we got our raffle tickets. Good thing we had a prearranged spot—I would never have found him otherwise in this madhouse. I fight my way there, worming my way upstream like a woebegone salmon.

“Annalise!” A loud voice calls out my name.

Declan?

I turn, realizing as I do that it can't be—it's the voice of a female. High-pitched. Shrill. Hateful. Eva. She and two of her cronies are coming up right behind me, waving frantically like we're besties, yellow wristbands also circling their wrists. Un-ignorable. How on earth did they find me? And why did I have to go and mention Declan to Eva & Co.? Before that, our online relationship was all our own, safe from their prying eyes and the rumor mill.

We face off, and Eva smirks at me as if she knows something I don't.