Rumor Central

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Authors: Reshonda Tate Billingsley
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trying to punk me, but honestly, it was working. I’d never live it down if they fired me and gave my job to Sheridan.
    Tamara continued talking. “So, the question is do you want Sheridan to get the guy and your job?” Tamara asked. I know she could tell they were getting to me.
    Of course not, I thought. Even though I didn’t say anything, she must’ve read the look on my face because she said, “Then I suggest you go home and get to digging in the back of your memory and come up with some juicy gossip.”
    I stood for a moment, trying to figure out my next move. I know we were the who’s who of Miami, but did people really want to know our dirt like that? I thought about shows like TMZ and blogs like MediaTakeout and Bossip. Of course they did.
    â€œI got it. You want dirt, I’ll give you dirt.” I sighed. “Do I need to work today?” I finally asked.
    â€œNo, because unless you come up with something, there’s no work to be done,” Dexter spoke matter-of-factly.
    I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t believe this. I was really going to be a snitch? Could I really sell out my friends? Images of this last month flashed before my eyes. I pictured my fight with Shay, all the hate I was getting at school. Then I thought about Sheridan and Bryce at the homecoming dance and I had my answer. Not only could I do this, I would take great pleasure in doing it.

Chapter 12
    I couldn’t believe I was hanging out with Valerie Elgin. On the misfit scale, she was definitely nearing a ten. Honestly, I wondered how she even could stand to look at herself in the mirror. From her drab, stringy hair, which she always wore pulled back into a raggedy ponytail to her too-big clothes hanging from her body, she was so far from fab, it made my skin crawl. But then, when I thought about the other geeks she hung out with—another nerdy girl named Jennifer and this guy named Eugene who needed to star in his own Extreme Dork show.
    Looking at Valerie now, she probably would be pretty if she got rid of those Coke-bottle glasses, colored her hair, and got a decent wardrobe.
    â€œSo, do you get it?” Valerie asked. She had been spending the last hour at my house trying to help me get ready for yet another stupid calculus test. Like, who would ever use calculus again in life?
    â€œI guess,” I said.“Although I can’t for the life of me understand why I have to know this stupid stuff.”
    Valerie shrugged. “It’s not that bad if you give it a chance. I really like it. Sometimes I do calculus just for fun.”
    Calculus for fun ? Nerd strike number two.
    â€œSo, just review the notecards I made.” She pointed to the stack of cards that I knew I wasn’t about to pick up. I didn’t say anything else as we gathered up our stuff and headed downstairs.
    â€œYou want something to drink?” I asked when we made it into our theater room.
    â€œIf you don’t mind,” Valerie replied.
    I yelled for Sui, our maid, who came running into the room. “Yes, Miss Morgan?” she said.
    â€œHey, Sui, can you make me and my friend some lemonade and bring it to the theater room?”
    Sui nodded and disappeared back in the kitchen. I turned to see Valerie with a stupid grin on her face.
    â€œWhat’s your problem?” I asked.
    â€œNothing,” she said, still smiling, “ friend .”
    Oh, good grief, she was really cheesing over me calling her a friend. Truthfully, it had just slipped out, but I shrugged it off. Between that and me inviting her to hang out a minute—don’t ask me why I’d done that—Valerie was probably ready to get matching BFF necklaces made.
    â€œSo, do you mind if I ask why you don’t hang with your old friends from the show anymore?” Valerie asked once we were settled in the den and I’d turned on the TV.
    I knew Valerie had been dying to ask me that since

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