The It Girl (4 page)

Sophie expected to be captain since she is pretty much in charge of everything else that goes on, being the most popular
girl in our grade. Apparently her sister was the most popular girl in this school when she was here and was captain of all the sports teams. When Sophie wasn't appointed captain of the volleyball team, her parents were very upset about it and came in to speak to our PE teacher, while Sophie cried behind them.

Dad has never had this sort of problem with me. I peaked in physical education when I was eight and was forced to join a soccer activity at school. I was distracted by a pigeon, the ball came my way, deflected off my butt, and bounced into the goal. My sporting career has gone downhill ever since.

Anyway, Sophie dragging in her parents didn't faze our PE teacher, who stuck to her guns and told them Jess was captain, fair and square. Upsetting the most popular girl in our grade didn't exactly do much for Jess's popularity, but Jess got over that pretty quickly.

Our friendship was actually born that day, right after Sophie and her parents stormed out of the gym having not got their way. Jess was waiting for her best friend, Danny, and I was waiting for Dad to come to get me to pick up Mom from the airport (who came to stay for a week to see the new house and ask me unending questions about my first week at the new school).

We were standing in silence a few feet apart, and I noticed she looked pretty down. I guess because Sophie and her sidekick, Josie, had made it clear what they thought about Jess being made captain. I offered her a cookie, but she just shook her head in a “stop bugging me” way. I nodded, and we stood in silence again.

“You had a bad day?” I asked after a few minutes.

“Yeah.” She sighed, folding her arms. “Pretty bad.”

I was thoughtful for a moment. “Want me to do a tap dance for you?”

She blinked at me. “What?”

“To cheer you up. Here.” I put my bag down and launched into what was not really a tap dance, because I've never done tap dancing and I wasn't wearing tap shoes. But it always made my dad laugh when I attempted it in our living room, so I thought it might go down well.

Jess watched me, baffled. And when Danny came along to walk home with her, I stopped. She didn't say anything but threw me a big smile over her shoulder as they left. The next day when I arrived at school, preparing for yet another terrifying morning of being the new girl no one was interested in, they both came over to me and asked if I needed showing around the place.

Ever since then Jess and Danny have really taken care of me at school. They showed me the ropes, like where to stand in assembly so you don't get spat on by over-enthusiastic teachers during announcements, and how to get the lunch ladies to give you second helpings.

Jess even picks me to be on her team in PE despite knowing I'm completely useless. I did tell her last semester that she didn't have to do that, and I wouldn't be insulted as I know I'm one of the worst.

“Whatever, Anna,” she'd replied breezily. “It's not a pity thing. I like having you on my team. It's more of a challenge to win that way. And you know I love a challenge. Plus you provide excellent comic relief.”

She can say what she likes—I know she picks me because she doesn't want me to be last.

Yep, it definitely would have been good right now to be Jess, but I wasn't. I was me. It stank. I walked into class apprehensively, noticed that the room hushed, and went to sit down in my chair. Immediately a shadow fell over my desk, and I blinked up to see Sophie Parker staring down at me with her arms folded, her light gray eyes narrowing at me, and her glossy highlighted hair falling neatly around her shoulders.

“Hannah, isn't it?” she said.

“Um. Anna.”

“Right. Jess Delby's best friend.”

Uh-oh.

“So I heard about what happened yesterday, obviously. What you tried to do to
my
best friend. What is wrong with you? You could have really hurt her.”

“Don't exaggerate, Sophie. Josie had her hair singed and that was it,” a voice piped up from the corner.

Sophie spun around to see who had dared defy her, and Connor Lawrence, leaning back in his chair looking very pleased with himself, stared right back at her mischievously through his dark bangs.

Great. I groaned inwardly. Of all the people to come to my defense, it had to be someone like Connor Lawrence. He has fewer friends than me. And I only have two. (Three if you count Dog, but Jess and Danny say that I can't, which personally I find unreasonable.)

“Um, who even
are
you?”

My heart sank as Connor ignored Sophie entirely and went on. “If Josie had any brains, she would have just turned on the faucet right next to where she was sitting and shoved her big head under it.”

There was a nervous titter around the classroom, and I
felt the tension rising rapidly as Sophie inhaled sharply at the insult to her sidekick. I sat awkwardly, wishing that Connor would just leave it alone.

“Ugh. Don't even bother speaking to me. No one asked you your opinion, weirdo!” Sophie spat angrily before turning toward me again. “Did you set fires at your last school? Is that why you don't have any friends?”

“No, no, of course not. It was—”

“Sit down, Sophie. It was an accident.”

I turned in shock because this time it wasn't just anyone speaking up. Too cool to even look up from his phone while speaking, it was Brendan Dakers.
Brendan Dakers
. The most popular and best-looking boy in my class, possibly in the entire school. And captain of the soccer and rugby teams. He is also really smart and always gets the best grades. Basically, he's the perfect male specimen. Every time I look at him, my feet go tingly.

I've never really spoken to him. He's way too popular. Of course, Sophie Parker and Josie Graham are always hanging around him. In fact Sophie and Brendan are sort of an unofficial couple. They aren't actually together, but they should be. Everyone knows it's going to happen one day. Probably at the dance.

They're both really beautiful. If they ever reproduced (ew), their children would be another level of human—superhuman. Jess disagrees with me on this and says that if they ever had children, they might get Brendan's looks and Sophie's personality, which would make them vampires.

I'm not sure of the logic in this, but I'm not sure that Jess's brain works in a logical way.

I don't know how either Jess or Sophie manage to remain collected in his presence. If Brendan Dakers ever spoke to me, I would be so ecstatic I would probably die. Which would be an excellent way to go.

Sadly, the chances of Brendan speaking to me are nil for the following reasons:

1. When I first saw him I choked on my own spit.

2. When he once walked past our volleyball lesson and waved to Sophie, I had a moment of complete deliriousness and thought he was waving at me. When I waved back, he looked puzzled. Probably because we had never spoken before, and I don't think he even knew I was in his grade at that point. I'm not even sure he realizes that now.

3. When I mistakenly waved back at Brendan Dakers in volleyball, Josie Graham said really loudly to Sophie, “That is
so
mortifying for her!” and they both burst out laughing. He witnessed this.

4. I set his friend Josie on fire.

Reflecting on this list has made me wonder how I even have two friends.

“Brendan, Josie's hair went up in flames,” Sophie snapped.

“Relax,” Brendan said, looking up from his phone briefly. “It was funny.”

And with that, he went back to playing on his phone. The room silently watched Sophie's reaction. Her cheeks flushed with anger, and she gave me one last dramatic huff before pulling her shoulders back and stalking to her desk.

Someone snorted from the back of the classroom. It sounded like Connor. To my great relief Sophie didn't appear to have heard and flung herself into her chair, pulling out her fluffy purple pencil case just as Mr. Avery strolled in with his coffee and asked us to turn to page fifty-six.

I was so caught up in replaying Brendan Dakers sticking
up for me—sort of—over and over in my head that I didn't even hear the bell ring. It was only when I noticed people actually walking out of the classroom that I realized it was time for the next class and started to pack up my things in a hurry.

Brendan finding Josie being set on fire funny still didn't mean that Sophie had decided to let it go with me. As I got up, I accidentally nudged Sophie, who had been walking toward the door.

“Urgh!” she exhaled in exasperation, probably at the idea of me touching her, and looked at me in disgust as I hurriedly got out of her way.

Then she shook her head, swished back her perfect hair, and practically skipped toward Brendan, who, unlike me, clearly
had
been forgiven for the classroom standoff and was waiting for her by the door.

I finished packing up my stuff and began to make my way out too.

“Chin up, Ms. Huntley,” Mr. Avery said cheerily as he took time out from wiping the board to look at me with sympathy. “You'll make friends here eventually. Sometimes it takes a while to find your feet. I remember having no friends
whatsoever for a good few semesters at my middle school.”

“Oh, well”—I stopped by the door—“thanks but I do have
some
friends here.”

“Do you?” he said, looking surprised. “Splendid!”

Then he got back to wiping the board.

Sometimes I really wish I was a hermit. Not only do they not have to deal with people in general, but they're also usually very wise. I can only aspire to that state of being.

THE SCHOOL DANCE STRESSES ME
out. and it's NOT because I won't have a date.

It is actually because school dances highlight the dictation of a dominating society on a youthful generation to locate a suitable partner of similar social standing with whom to spend the evening, not based on intellectual or personality compatibility, but on visual attraction alone. School dances are a staple of the dominant ideology in which we live, serving only the interest of a certain elite platform of students to exert their superiority and their peer influence, thus maintaining the existing state of the school's social context.

OKAY, FINE, it's because I'll never find a date.

Ever since the semester started, everyone has been talking about this Beatus dance, which takes place at the end of the spring semester. It's for grades six to eight and apparently is kind of like a smaller version of the prom.

“What on earth is the Betty dance?” I'd asked Jess one afternoon when I overheard for the third time that day someone in the bathroom talking about who was going to be elected for the committee.

“It's the Beatus dance, you mongoose.” Jess laughed.

“It means ‘blessed' or ‘fortunate' in Medieval Latin, Anna,” Danny explained gently, giving Jess a shove. This was typical Danny behavior, always on hand to remind Jess when to be a little more patient.

I once told him that I thought he was probably one of the nicest people I had ever met. “And your hair complements that.” I smiled.

“Huh?” He automatically ran a hand through his thick blond curls that really are spectacular.

“I think when it comes to you, Danny,” I'd said matter-of-factly, “your hair reflects your kindness and comforting nature.”

That didn't actually go down too well. It turns out boys don't really strive to be kind and comforting. Danny, Jess had informed me after he'd left grumpily, gets tired of always being “the nice one” who girls want to be friends with.

The very next day after the curls comment I made sure to say, immediately as he walked in, “Danny! You look very
rugged today. I think it's the way you're carrying your backpack on one shoulder.” I ignored the muffled snigger of Jess next to me and continued with the confidence boost. “Seriously, something very manly going on there.”

He looked surprised—but I've noticed he's carried his backpack on one shoulder ever since.

“It used to be called the spring dance for lower grades,” Danny had continued.

Meanwhile Jess smiled at me and muttered, “Betty dance. Honestly!” under her breath.

“Our last principal picked the name because, as she continually reminded us, the lower grades were very lucky to have a dance at all when most schools just have a senior dance.”

“She had to give it a Latin name to try to make it sound boring and educational.” Jess grinned.

“Sounds fun to me.”

“Not really.” Jess shrugged. “It's really just an excuse for people like Sophie Parker to show off.”

“Oh come on.” Danny laughed. “You had a good time last year.”

“The highlight was when you fell over on the dance floor.”

“I did not fall over,” Danny protested, going bright red. “I was doing the worm.”

“Do you go with a . . . date?” I asked timidly, pretending not to really care.

“Most people do. Danny and I just went together.” Jess sighed. “Although I pretended I didn't know him when he fell over.”

“I told you, I was doing the worm!”

“It didn't look like the worm. It looked like you fell over and had hurt your hip or something.”

I had worried about the dance all during Christmas vacation. If Jess and Danny were going to go together again, who would I go with? They weren't going to want a tagalong.

Now that I've set a girl on fire, I don't think my chances of getting a date are much improved.

I did consider putting a bow tie on Dog and going down the comedy route, but then I decided that I should play it safe, and if I was going to bring anyone they should probably be human.

Sophie Parker and Josie Graham are representing our grade on the Beatus committee of course. This means that they have to give up some of their lunch breaks to stand behind a table and sell raffle tickets to try to raise money for the dance budget. The prize is a two-week internship over spring break with Brendan's mom, who is a photographer.