Pride & Popularity (5 page)

Only half listening, I began to follow her to the car.

“If this keeps up, no one will be able to trust you.” At the car, Claire turned around and waited for me. Then she surprised me by asking, “Chloe, have you been crying?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“A stupid boy.”

“Oh, I see. I’ve decided I’m never going to have a boyfriend. I find that boys are complete nuisances and idiots, set out and determined to make girls cry. Plus, I don’t want to go through the pains of childbirth.”

“What?! Er, uh, I don’t think any woman does.”

“Yeah, well, since technically you need a boyfriend to find a husband to have kids with, my goal is going to refrain from ever getting one.” With that, she climbed into the car.

“Refrain?” I stared at her from the driver’s seat.

“It means when you don’t do—”

“I know what it means, Claire.”

“Oh.”

I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Claire said. “Ms. Chavez says you can have your old job back anytime you’re ready. Everybody misses you.”

“Uh, well, I’ll think about it.”

Actually, when we’d moved from Denver, I had given up my dream of becoming a ballerina. Moving to a much smaller city had its advantages, but if you know more than your ballet teachers do, it doesn’t work so well.

Ms. Chavez was so impressed with my ballet skills that she’d offered me a job as soon as I turned fifteen. I had taught for her for over two years, until last summer when the opportunity to work for a professional theater group came along. They were in need of background dancers for their musical. The idea appealed to me—working all summer dancing on stage, meeting new people every night. I really wanted to try something new and exciting, and getting paid for it was just icing on the cake. While I worked at the ballet studio, I met Jordan and his girlfriend Kate, and they helped me learn all sorts of dance moves. They were professional ballroom dancers, so it was like getting really good lessons for free. Since they were both in the musical, I got to teach them a few ballet moves to help make their spins and lifts a bit easier and more fluid. We also became great friends in the process.

Thinking about it now, I realized I missed ballet. Even though my little sister still took lessons at the studio, I’d never really thought of working there again, but maybe I should. I sure loved teaching the littlest girls. The four- and five-year olds were so sweet and innocent, and all of them dreamed of becoming famous ballerinas. I loved helping them create that reality. So even if I didn’t jump on the job opportunity right away, it was something to think about.

“Hey, Chloe!” Carson called as he walked up to me. I was talking to his brother about the run we had finished where Ethan had just soundly beaten the other four-wheel-drive vehicles. Ethan and I were both kneeling on the dirt, comparing his tire treads. “I’ve got someone who wants to be introduced to you,” Carson said to me. He turned and yelled toward a group of guys, “Yo, Blake!”

“Yeah?” a blond guy called back. He was tall and goodlooking.

Carson motioned toward me. “I’ve got Chloe here to meet you.”

Ethan and I stood up and brushed off our jeans. “I forgot Blake’s been asking about you since we got here,” Ethan said. “You’ll like him—he’s an easygoing guy.”

Blake said something as he broke away from the group and started toward us.
Wow, is he hot!
I thought he’d be my age, but as he got closer I saw he was probably nineteen or twenty.

“Hi.” He grinned at me.

My heart was beating so fast that if it had wings it would’ve fluttered away.
He’s got dimples! Guys should never have dimples. They get away with everything when they do. Breathe, Chloe.

“Chloe, this is Blake Winter. He just moved here from Boulder, Colorado. His truck’s the nice black one over there.” Carson nodded toward the parked vehicles. “Blake, may I introduce you to Chloe Hart, the prettiest, craziest, and funniest girl in the West?”

“You forgot to mention orneriest, feistiest, and meanest.” Ethan smirked. “Don’t be fooled by that sweet smile. She’s inherited her red hair and temper naturally.” Ethan and Carson both burst into guffaws.

“Hey, I prefer to be described as sassy.” I smiled as I looked up at Blake.

“Hart, eh? So, are you the queen of hearts?” he teased.

“A lady never reveals her secrets. But if I must be a queen, then I want to be the queen of four-wheeling.”

Carson laughed. “Chloe, the four-wheeling queen!”

“Why don’t you want to be the queen of hearts?” Blake asked me.

“Because that’s boring. I would much rather be known for something more fun and adventurous.”

“Make way for the queen,” Carson announced as he dragged me away from Blake and presented me to the rest of the guys. “Here’s Chloe, the four-wheeling queen.”

I glanced back. Blake was staring at me.

The guys all laughed and elbowed each other while they attempted to bow as well as they could on the uneven dirt. Then one of the guys, Jacob, surprised me by asking, “So, Queen Chloe, what are ya doing Saturday night?”

“Why?” I asked hesitantly.

“Because I really want to see the new Ryan Reynolds action movie, and you scream louder than any of the other girls. It’ll make the movie more exciting if you go.”

Jacob walked toward me. “So what do you say? You comin’?”

“Sorry, Jacob.” The sound of Blake’s deep voice behind me tingled all the way down my spine, and then frizzled back up to the ends of my ponytail. “I believe Chloe’s going out with me on Saturday.”

Raising my eyebrow, I turned around to face him with hands on my hips and challenged, “Really? You think so, do you?” Blake’s dimple made an appearance and I was lost. “Well, if you’re serious, then you’ve have to come over Friday and meet my parents. I can’t go on a date with someone until my folks approve.”

“I’ll be there. What time?” His warm, chocolate-brown eyes sparkled right into mine.

“Better come for dinner,” I managed to squeeze out of my suddenly dry throat. “Get my number from Carson or Ethan, then give me a call later and we’ll work it out.” I scanned the crowd to keep myself from staring too long into Blake’s disconcerting eyes. I settled on Jacob.

“Okay, so if Blake’s going to be with you Friday night and Saturday night,” Jacob said, “then you’ve got to come with me Saturday afternoon. Besides, I’ve already met your parents, remember?”

I giggled. “Okay, okay, I’ll come.”

WINDS OF CHANGE

Thursday morning when I walked into the main building to head to my history class, all glorious thoughts of Blake Winter skipped my mind. The first fission of doubt on this “perfect day” had begun. Everyone was whispering to each other in the halls.

“Did you hear . . . ? Taylor . . .”

Or, “Taylor Anderson . . . girlfriend . . .”

“His phone call . . . Taylor . . . not happy . . .”

What is going on?
Suddenly, I was brought back down to earth

By the end of my second-hour health class, I had heard enough to realize my name wasn’t connected to the Taylor gossip. That’s when I knew something major had happened to him yesterday that had nothing to do with me.

It was all over the school by the time my art class rolled around. Everyone was talking about it, and no one felt the need to whisper anymore.

“Did you hear?” Emma Bradford gushed to her tablemates as she set out her art supplies. “Taylor Anderson got dumped by his girlfriend last night. Isn’t that
so
exciting?”

I gasped as I turned to Madison and Alyssa, who were getting their pastels ready before the bell rang. They must’ve heard the news already, because they both nodded their heads at my stunned look. “You’re kidding.” I felt horrible.
Why do I feel so horrible? I wonder which phone call he got first, mine or hers? No way. I totally forgot to tell Maddi and Alyssa about the phone call!

The bell rang just as Taylor entered the room. No one even bothered to whisper while they talked about him. He glanced around the class and made a sort of rueful smile at the twittering girls, who faked looks of sympathy.

Wow, how happy can people get over his failure?
He must have read my mind, because at that moment our eyes locked. As he approached our table he hesitated, then quietly asked if it was okay for him to join us. I guess he was desperate enough to seek out the only safe haven in the room, and ironically, that was next to me.

My heart isn’t made of stone, but it was definitely different to feel compassion for Taylor Anderson. Besides, no matter what he said to me yesterday, none of that compared to this. I half smiled as I pulled out his seat in response to his question. Relief showed on his face as he sat down next to me.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “I know how hard that was for you, so thank you.”

Surprised, I looked right into his eyes. He looked exhausted. There was a scant eight inches between us, and for a few moments I just stared at him. The normally lighthearted, sky blue orbs were now a dull grey blue. My heart lurched as we shared one of those life-changing moments that happen when you least expect them, when enemies claim truce.

Ms. Bailey’s role call broke the spell. After a hurried, “Don’t worry about it,” to Taylor, I glanced up to see that Alyssa and Madison hadn’t missed a beat. Thankfully, neither of them said anything, even though they were clearly dying to know what was going on. I could tell we would have a long talk soon.

Zack’s little sister, Emma, was the first girl to “happen” by our table and nonchalantly drool over Taylor’s artwork. “Wow. You are
so
talented. I wish I could draw like that.”

I rolled my eyes when I saw that all Taylor had managed to do was a rough pencil sketch of the landscape we were all supposed to create with pastel chalk. Since this was his first full day back at school, he had a lot of catch-up work to do.

Anyway, I couldn’t believe it, but one by one, every girl in the class made it over to our table. Even though Taylor seemed a bit annoyed by the constant interruptions, I have to say he handled it all like a pro. Not one of those girls knew when she left our table that she had unwillingly caused him more pain by her actions. In fact, Taylor did such a good job smiling and small-talking back that each girl probably felt extra special and loved.
I bet I know what they’ll be telling their friends after school,
I thought. I had to admit the guy was charming.

Even Alyssa and Madison were not immune when he complimented them on their choice of subject or color. This became apparent as we were walking out of the classroom together and Madison asked, “I wonder who the next Miss Taylor Anderson will be?”

Without thinking, I answered, “Good grief. Can you imagine what she’d have to put up with? The last thing I would want to be is popular. Sure, having friends is cool, and having a lot of friends is even better. But to have to be constantly in the spotlight because you’re part of the ‘in’ crowd? Er, no thank you. My stint on stage was limited just to dancing, and personally, I would like to keep it that way.”

Madison was the first to catch my blunder. “So you’re worried Taylor will ask you to join him, huh?”

“What? No!”

“Methinks she protests too much,” Alyssa said, misquoting Shakespeare.

“Ha ha, you two,” I replied as we maneuvered our way through the crowded hallway. “You don’t know the half of it. I was so busy describing every detail of Blake this morning that I forgot to mention about the phone call I had from Taylor yesterday.”

Alyssa’s “What? You’re kidding!” was overpowered by Madison’s “No way!”