Wampler, as she was commonly referred to—was standing in front of the administrative offices, fruitlessly yelling, “Get to your homeroom! Get to your homeroom before the late bell! You don’t want a detention your first day, do you, people?”
“Sit by you at the welcome back convocation?” Becca screamed at me above the chaos.
“See you then,” I screamed back.
“I’m not through with you, Crazytop,” Jason assured me as he reached his locker, and I had to keep going inorder to get to mine. “Something’s up with you, and I’m going to find out what it is!”
I couldn’t help laughing at that one. “Good luck,” I called to him, and hurried on without him.
As I got closer to my locker, things seemed to get quieter. Which is actually impossible, because my locker happens to be located at a point in the school where two main hallways intersect. There’s a girls’ bathroom AND a drinking fountain next to my locker, not to mention the doors leading downstairs to the cafeteria. Normally, this is the loudest corner of the school.
But today, for some reason, the hall seemed strangely hushed as I walked down it. And not, as I would have liked to think, because I looked so stunning in my new wardrobe and haircut, that everyone was shocked into silence, like when Drew Barrymore showed up at the ball in her angel outfit in the movie Ever After .
Actually, it was probably just as loud as usual. Things just SEEMED like they got quieter.
And that’s because Mark Finley had entered my line of vision.
Mark’s locker is across the hall from mine. He was standing there talking to some of the other guys from the football team as I walked by. In his purple-and-white jersey, he looked tanned and rested, his light brown hair bleached gold in a few places from all the time he’d spent out at the lake this past summer. Even his hazel eyes seemed brighter against the sun-darkened skin of his cheeks.
I, of course, couldn’t take my eyes off him. Well, what girl could?
And with that kind of vision standing in front of me, was it really any wonder that I failed to notice that Lauren Moffat and her fellow Dark Ladies of the Sith, Alyssa Krueger and Bebe Johnson, were standing by the drinking fountain, staring at me?
“What,” Lauren asked, her gaze going from the top of my insouciant, gaminesque head to the round toes of my platform Mary Janes, “are YOU supposed to be?”
Fortunately just last night I read the section of The Book revolving around jealousy, so I knew just what to do.
“Oh, hi, Lauren,” I said, plastering a sunny smile on my face. “Did you have a nice summer?”
Lauren looked incredulously from Alyssa to Bebe, then back at me.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Your summer.” I hoped they couldn’t see how badly my fingers were shaking as I twisted the combination to my locker. “How was it? Good, I hope. Did your mom like the books?”
Lauren’s jaw dropped. I could tell I’d thrown her. See, most of our previous interactions—since the Super Big Gulp incident, anyway—had been like the one we’d had on Saturday night. Lauren says something mean to me, and I respond by saying…nothing.
The fact that this time I was responding—and in a manner that made it clear I refused to let her bait me—had her gears shifting into overdrive.
“I certainly hope so,” I said.
Lauren’s blue-glazed eyelids narrowed. “What?” she asked, sounding irritated.
“That your mom enjoyed the books she bought from our store,” I said.
At that moment—thank GOD—the bell rang. I slammed my locker door shut, shouldered my new designer bag, and said, “Well, see you at the convo,” and rushed down the hall…
…right past Mark Finley.
Who, I couldn’t help noticing, had been looking in my direction, either because he’d noticed my interaction with his girlfriend, or—even though I knew this was too much to hope for…still, The Book said optimism is crucial for any successful social
“Sit by you at the welcome back convocation?” Becca screamed at me above the chaos.
“See you then,” I screamed back.
“I’m not through with you, Crazytop,” Jason assured me as he reached his locker, and I had to keep going inorder to get to mine. “Something’s up with you, and I’m going to find out what it is!”
I couldn’t help laughing at that one. “Good luck,” I called to him, and hurried on without him.
As I got closer to my locker, things seemed to get quieter. Which is actually impossible, because my locker happens to be located at a point in the school where two main hallways intersect. There’s a girls’ bathroom AND a drinking fountain next to my locker, not to mention the doors leading downstairs to the cafeteria. Normally, this is the loudest corner of the school.
But today, for some reason, the hall seemed strangely hushed as I walked down it. And not, as I would have liked to think, because I looked so stunning in my new wardrobe and haircut, that everyone was shocked into silence, like when Drew Barrymore showed up at the ball in her angel outfit in the movie Ever After .
Actually, it was probably just as loud as usual. Things just SEEMED like they got quieter.
And that’s because Mark Finley had entered my line of vision.
Mark’s locker is across the hall from mine. He was standing there talking to some of the other guys from the football team as I walked by. In his purple-and-white jersey, he looked tanned and rested, his light brown hair bleached gold in a few places from all the time he’d spent out at the lake this past summer. Even his hazel eyes seemed brighter against the sun-darkened skin of his cheeks.
I, of course, couldn’t take my eyes off him. Well, what girl could?
And with that kind of vision standing in front of me, was it really any wonder that I failed to notice that Lauren Moffat and her fellow Dark Ladies of the Sith, Alyssa Krueger and Bebe Johnson, were standing by the drinking fountain, staring at me?
“What,” Lauren asked, her gaze going from the top of my insouciant, gaminesque head to the round toes of my platform Mary Janes, “are YOU supposed to be?”
Fortunately just last night I read the section of The Book revolving around jealousy, so I knew just what to do.
“Oh, hi, Lauren,” I said, plastering a sunny smile on my face. “Did you have a nice summer?”
Lauren looked incredulously from Alyssa to Bebe, then back at me.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Your summer.” I hoped they couldn’t see how badly my fingers were shaking as I twisted the combination to my locker. “How was it? Good, I hope. Did your mom like the books?”
Lauren’s jaw dropped. I could tell I’d thrown her. See, most of our previous interactions—since the Super Big Gulp incident, anyway—had been like the one we’d had on Saturday night. Lauren says something mean to me, and I respond by saying…nothing.
The fact that this time I was responding—and in a manner that made it clear I refused to let her bait me—had her gears shifting into overdrive.
“I certainly hope so,” I said.
Lauren’s blue-glazed eyelids narrowed. “What?” she asked, sounding irritated.
“That your mom enjoyed the books she bought from our store,” I said.
At that moment—thank GOD—the bell rang. I slammed my locker door shut, shouldered my new designer bag, and said, “Well, see you at the convo,” and rushed down the hall…
…right past Mark Finley.
Who, I couldn’t help noticing, had been looking in my direction, either because he’d noticed my interaction with his girlfriend, or—even though I knew this was too much to hope for…still, The Book said optimism is crucial for any successful social
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