Twice As Nice (15 page)

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Authors: Lin Oliver

BOOK: Twice As Nice
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“Nice work,” Spencer said to me. Then he smiled and took my hand.

Sammie and her friends found seats way up at the top of the bleachers just as the band came out and played the National Anthem. After that, the band launched right into the Pacific High fight song. Lauren was the only one of us who knew the words, but I managed to fake it pretty well. When the game started, The Waves taught us their two special cheers. The first time they stood up and did them on their own, but the second time, Bethany said we could do the cheers with them. I could feel everyone looking at us. Even the cheerleaders stopped their own cheers and tossed their pom-poms in the air when we were done.

When we sat down after the cheer, someone in back of me tapped me on the shoulder. It was the blond surfer guy.

“You guys really do rock,” he said, holding up his phone to show me our picture on Instagram.

Underneath our caption, a bunch of people had written comments.

“Could I borrow your phone for a sec?” I asked.

He handed it to me, and I showed Lauren the comments. One said, “Cute mini waves,” and another said, “Love that tween spirit.” The one from a boy named Kahuna said, “Stoked to see these babes #juniorwaves” and the last one said, “My cousin's group, how cool are they?” That one was from Bethany, but the others were from random people who didn't even know us. We passed his phone quickly to the other girls, and each one in turn laughed out loud.

“Thanks,” I said when I handed the phone back to the guy.

During the first half of the game, I found out that I was really interested in football. We're a tennis family, and Ryan watches a lot of basketball, so football was a whole new world to me. Spencer explained all the rules and strategies that I didn't know.

“You're a jock at heart, Diamond,” he said. “Not many girls would be this curious.”

At halftime, the score was tied at fourteen. Spencer left to go get some nachos, and Bethany told us to get up and come with her.

“Bathroom break,” she said.

“I'm okay,” I said. “I don't have to go.”

“Honestly, Charlie,” she sighed. “This isn't about peeing. This is about refreshing our hair and makeup. And trust me, little one, you could use it.”

We all followed her and the other Waves to the girl's bathroom. Inside, it was jam-packed and the noise level was out of control. You had to shove your way in to get to the stalls, and getting to the mirror was almost impossible with girls lined up shoulder to shoulder applying lip gloss and touching up their mascara and stuff. I got separated from the other Junior Waves right away. For the first time that night, I felt like a middle-school kid shoved in between all these chattering high-school girls. I just kind of hunkered down in the crowd and tried to be inconspicuous.

“Well, of course I posted it,” I heard Lizzy's voice in the crowd. “It was just too funny to resist.”

“You're not going to believe the one I have,” Bethany said back. “It's even funnier.”

“Did you post it already?” Lizzy asked.

“Did I ever! There's going to be a million comments. I can't wait to see them.”

Two girls in Pacific High letterman jackets shoved themselves away from the mirror, creating a space for other girls. I jammed myself in there, trying to get close enough to hear the rest of the conversation, but I was elbowed out by another two girls in Taft jackets.

“Excuse me,” I said to them. “It's really important that I get in here.”

“Tough luck,” one of them said. “We've been waiting for five minutes.”

“Oh and by the way,” the other one said, “your team is going down tonight!”

I struggled to get close, but by the time I got to the mirror, Bethany and Lizzy were halfway across the bathroom, on their way out. I elbowed my way through the crowded bathroom and finally reached the outside. They were surrounded by a bunch of cute high-school guys. They might have even been seniors—two of them had beards!

“Bethany, can I talk to you a minute?” I asked, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Use your head, little one,” she said, laughing with the others. “Does it look like it's a good time for me to talk?”

Everyone laughed.

“This is really important,” I said, yanking on her arm.

“No, Charlie,” she said. She wasn't laughing now, she seemed mad. “What's going on here is important, not you. Come on, guys. The game's starting.”

She hooked her arm through the arm of one of the bearded guys and walked away.

I didn't even wait for the other Junior Waves. I raced back to my seat. Spencer must have still been in the nachos line, and none of the other girls were back yet. But the person I wanted was there—the surfer dude sitting in back of me.

“Could I borrow your phone again?” I asked.

“No problem,” he said, “Got to call your mom and dad to pick you up? Yeah, I remember those days. It gets better.”

“No, I need to see your Instagram again,” I said. “Can you show me how to go there?”

He punched in a few commands, and handed me his phone. The picture of us came up on the screen. There were a lot more comments, but I wasn't interested in that.

“Do you follow Lizzy whatshername?” I asked him.

He took the phone from me and went to Lizzy's account. There it was, front and center, the picture she had snapped of Sara in her scarf and earrings. Under it was the caption, “Can u believe it? Captain Hook showed up at our game tonight!!!”

I felt sick to my stomach. No one had posted any comments yet, but I knew they probably would.

“How about Bethany Wadsworth?” I asked him. “Do you follow her?”

“Who doesn't?”

He took the phone from me and went to her page. When I looked at the picture that came up on the screen, I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought I was actually going to throw up.

It was a shot of Sara, but not from the game. It was one of the “before” shots that Sammie and Alicia had taken of her. Her hair was pulled up on top of her head. She wasn't smiling. And of course, her ears were in plain view, sticking out almost to the edge of the picture. It was the most unflattering image of her you could ever imagine. And humiliating. Underneath was the caption Bethany had written. It said: “One word, folks. Dumbo.”

I dropped the guy's phone and held my hands to my face.

“Hey, are you okay?” he said. He sounded a million miles away.

My mind was racing with a thousand ideas at once. Where could Bethany have gotten that picture? It was only on Sammie's phone. And no one had access to Sammie's phone, not even me. She kept it tucked away in the right zipper pocket of her purse.

Then it hit me. When we were at Etta's concert that afternoon, Sammie had specifically noticed that her phone was in the left pocket, out of its usual place. She chalked it up to just being forgetful, but there was another explanation, one that flooded into my head like a terrible, crashing wave.

I closed my eyes and remembered Lauren telling me how Bethany had given her one last initiation assignment to complete. Then I remembered her standing in the hall that afternoon, holding both our bags. She had been out there the whole time Sammie and I were helping Ms. Carew straighten up the room. Long enough to find Sammie's phone, go to her photo roll and send the picture of Sara to herself. Or to Bethany. Just as she had been asked to do. And then put the phone back in the wrong pocket!

But how did she know where to find Sammie's phone?

Then another image came to my mind, almost jolting me out of my seat. We were in my room, just before the ceremony, looking for my phone so we could play “We Are the Champions.” I told Lauren to get it from my purse, and she knew just where to go. I heard her words in my head . . . “I know everything about you. You and Sammie both keep your phones in the left zipper pocket so Ryan can't get to them.” And I remembered thinking . . .
No, Sammie keeps hers in the right pocket.

How would Lauren and Bethany have known that the “before” pictures of Sara were there on Sammie's phone? How could they know that those pictures, showing in extreme close-up the very thing Sara was most ashamed of in the world, were so easy to get to?

And of course, there was only one answer to that.

It was me. Me, who told the group about the pictures. Me, who betrayed the trust of not only Sara, but of Alicia and my sister. Me, and my big mouth. Me, and my need to belong.

It was me at the bottom of this whole nightmare.

I grabbed my jacket and made my way blindly to the aisle. As I was running down the steps, I ran smack into Spencer.

“Charlie, where are you going?”

“I'm sick,” I lied. “I think I'm going to throw up. I have to go home.”

I pushed him aside and tore out of the stadium, pushing my way through the throng of kids like I was fighting for my life. When I got outside the gate, I stood there in the parking lot and burst into tears, crying harder and longer than I ever had in my life.

“Maybe she won't find out,” I said to GoGo, tears still streaming down my face. “Not many kids our age have Instagram, so maybe she'll never see it.”

I had called GoGo to come get me from the game. She was the only person I could turn to in a time like this. In the car on the way home, I told her the whole story—how we formed the Junior Waves and had an initiation ceremony and how I had told Sara's secret even though I knew it was wrong.

We finally made it home and were alone in the clubhouse. Everyone was still at the football game except my dad, who had decided last minute to have coffee with a bunch of his old tennis pals until it was time to pick us up from the game.

“You have to confess everything,” GoGo said, putting a cup of hot chocolate down in front of me on the kitchen counter. “People make mistakes, Charlie. This was a big one. But you have to be brave and own up to your mistakes.”

“So what do I tell Sara?” I asked. “That I'm sorry I ruined her life?”

“Speak from the heart, Noodle. That's all you can do.”

“And what about Sammie? How do I explain this to her?”

“Same thing. Don't shift the blame to anyone else. Be brave and acknowledge what you did.”

GoGo handed me a box of Kleenex. I sipped the hot chocolate and blew my nose constantly, staring at the clock and dreading the moment when they all walked in.

I heard a car pull up in the driveway, and my heart almost fell out of my chest.

“I can't do this, GoGo,” I wailed.

“You can do anything you set your mind to,” she said, giving me a tight hug.

I blew my nose one last time, and then stood up when I heard the door to the clubhouse slam shut. To my relief, it wasn't Sammie and the girls. It was Ryan.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you were sleeping over at Winston's.”

“I told his dad to just drop me off here,” he said. “I thought Sammie and her friends could use a little support.”

“Why?” I asked, so afraid to hear the answer.

“You didn't see the photos on Instagram? I thought by now everyone had seen them.”

“You're on that Instagram thing, too?” GoGo asked.

“GoGo, I'm not a little kid anymore,” he said. “I'm fourteen.”

Ryan took out his phone and handed it to me. I looked at the Instagram picture of Sara, the one that Bethany had posted with the “Dumbo” caption underneath. Below it were a string of comments. A few of them were making fun of Sara. One said, “All the better to hear you with!” and another said, “She looks like a car with the doors open.” But there were a lot of them that were kind of supportive. One of those said, “My brother has the same type of ears and he's cute.” Another one said, “So what, we all have something we're embarrassed of.” To my total shock, there were even a few that were critical of Bethany. One said, “Leave the girl alone, Beth” and another said, “Not ur business.”

I handed the phone back to Ryan. “Not as bad as I thought it would be,” I said.

“Most people are kind underneath,” GoGo said. “They're not actively looking for opportunities to hurt people. But of course, that's not the point, is it, Noodle?”

I shook my head.

No, the point was that no matter how this turned out, I was at fault. None of this would have happened if I hadn't opened my big mouth.

Ryan seemed confused. “What's Charles got to do with this?” he asked.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I didn't want to tell one more lie. And so I told him what I had done. Everything.

“Whoa,” he said after I'd poured out my story. “This could get ugly. Maybe I should have slept over at Winston's after all.”

“Actually, Ryan, that's not a bad idea,” GoGo said. “I think Sammie and Charlie need to work through this by themselves.”

“No problem,” Ryan said. “I'm calling Winston now. See you guys in the morning. Oh, and good luck with this, Charles. Seriously.”

He reached out and actually gave me a hug, a nice one. I felt better, but it was only temporary.

Too soon, I heard my dad's car pull into the driveway. I knew it was his because the brakes on his minivan squeak when he stops. I heard the doors slam . . . one, two, and three, the slider . . . then footsteps. There wasn't another human sound, not a peep. It was ghostly quiet out there. I stood up from the counter.

“Are you coming?” I asked GoGo.

“I'll be there if you need me,” she said, taking my hand. “But you'll do what's right, Charlie. I trust you.”

I took a deep breath. I thought I might actually faint, but with GoGo's help, I steadied myself and walked into the living room. I had no choice.

The first face I saw was Sara's, tear-streaked and pale. Her scarf was off and her poufy hair was sticking out wildly all around her head. Next to her was Sammie. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, too. Only Alicia wasn't in tears, but her face, usually so smiley and cheerful, was set in a fixed frown. My dad was the last to come in. You could practically see the gray smoke coming out of his ears. Without a word, he threw his keys on the coffee table and sat down. Everyone was staring at me.

“So I suppose you guys have all seen the picture?” I started, my voice shaking.

“Oh yeah, Charlie. We saw it,” Sammie said. “We saw it on practically every single phone at the game. The guy next to us, the girl behind us, the couple in front of us. Apparently, Bethany has a lot of followers, which makes total sense because she's such a nice person.”

I started to cry.

“I am so sorry for what happened to you, Sara,” I said. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“But this does hurt, Charlie,” Sara said. “It hurts a lot. On the way out of the stadium, I felt like everyone was staring at me. I felt like a freak.”

The phrase “bearded lady in the circus” echoed in my head. It felt awful at the time and even worse now.

My dad sighed loudly and angrily.

“We're all sorry you feel that way, Sara,” he said. “Deeply sorry. Everyone in this family is.”

“So what exactly happened?” Sammie asked me. “Did you just go in my purse and send the photo to Bethany?”

“I never sent the picture to Bethany, I swear,” I told her.

“Oh, so it just decided to send itself to Bethany's Instagram account? Right. That happens a lot, Charlie.”

It was time for the truth, the whole truth. It didn't matter whether I was ratting out a friend or betraying a confidence. The lies had to stop. Enough was enough.

“Lauren sent it to Bethany,” I said. “Then Bethany decided to post it.”

“Oh and how did Lauren get it?” Sammie asked. “Let me guess. You gave it to her. Am I right?”

“No, you're not. She took it off your phone, during Etta's concert. That's why your phone was in the wrong zipper pocket.”

“Well then tell me this, Sherlock Holmes.” Sammie had crossed the room and was standing about two inches from my face. “If that's true, how did Lauren even know there was such a picture on my phone? Explain that if you can.”

There it was—confession time. It was down to telling them my piece of the puzzle. I felt my throat close up and my mouth go dry.

I took a deep breath and started to talk. Before I knew it, everything was pouring out, words and tears all mixed together. I told them about the Junior Waves and the initiation ceremony on the beach, about how we each shared secrets, and about how they forced me to tell Sara's secret.

“They forced you?” Sammie said. “They didn't force you. You did it. You could have said no. You could have walked away and told them you didn't want to be in their stupid club, anyway. But you didn't, Charlie. You made a choice and it sucks.”

I didn't try to explain it away or defend myself. She was right. I had made a choice, and it was the wrong one. So I did the only possible thing I had left to do.

“I'm so sorry, Sara,” I said. “Deeply, truly, from the bottom of my heart sorry.”

We all stood there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. At last, Sara stepped forward and walked over to me.

“I believe you,” she said.

“I wish I could take it all back. I'd do anything to take it back.”

Now Alicia was next to me.

“I feel how much you regret what you did,” she said. “And I feel sorry for you, too. Sara isn't the only one here who's hurting.”

“I really like you guys,” I said, wiping my nose and tears on my jacket sleeve. “I don't know why I haven't been nicer to you.”

“I know why,” Sammie said. “Because you wanted to be one of those girls. You have ever since the day we moved here. You look up to them and think they're so hot because they're popular and rich and perfect. Well, what do you think of them now?”

“Lily wasn't part of this,” I said. “And Brooke and Jillian just do anything Lauren says.”

“That's obvious,” Sammie said. “And guess what? So did you.”

My dad stood up and went to the phone.

“You're not calling the police, are you Dad?” I asked.

“No, Charlie, of course not. You didn't do anything illegal, just disappointing. But there have to be consequences for this. Kids can't go around posting pictures with hateful comments. It's not right. I'm calling Lauren and Bethany's parents, to tell them what their daughters did.”

“No, Dad! You can't do that!”

“Just watch me, Charlie.”

“But Dad, can't we just think about this for a while? You always say you shouldn't do anything rash when you're angry. Besides, tomorrow is Bethany's party. If you tell her parents, it's going to ruin everything!”

“She should have thought of that before she did this,” he said.

We listened as my dad made two phone calls. No one was home at Lauren's house, but Bethany's dad was there. When my dad explained to him that there was a big issue they had to discuss, Mr. Wadsworth said he would come over the next day and talk it through. He had to bring some party supplies over, anyway. My dad emphasized that this was a really important conversation. Mr. Wadsworth finally agreed to get in touch with Lauren's father and they'd all meet at the club at ten o'clock. My dad suggested they bring Bethany and Lauren, to get to the bottom of this.

So now I was going to have to face Lauren again. Already Sammie and her friends hated me. And tomorrow Lauren and the SF2 girls would officially hate me, too.

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