Belle of the Brawl
Clique novels by Lisi Harrison:
THE CLIQUE
BEST FRIENDS FOR NEVER
REVENGE OF THE WANNABES
INVASION OF THE BOY SNATCHERS
THE PRETTY COMMITTEE STRIKES BACK
DIAL L FOR LOSER
IT’S NOT EASY BEING MEAN
SEALED WITH A DISS
BRATFEST AT TIFFANY’S
THE CLIQUE SUMMER COLLECTION
P.S. I LOATHE YOU
BOYS R US
CHARMED AND DANGEROUS
THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR STALKING
Alphas novels by Lisi Harrison:
ALPHAS
MOVERS & FAKERS
BELLE OF THE BRAWL
Copyright
Copyright © 2010 by Alloy Entertainment
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
“Bad Romance” by Carlton Ellis, Stefani Germanotta, Nadir Khayat (Truen Style Publishing, House of GaGa Publishing Inc., Songs of Redone, Sony/ATV Songs LLC). All rights reserved.
“I Will Survive” by Dino George Fekaris, Frederick J Perren (Universal Polygram International Publishing Inc., Perren-Vibes Music Inc.). All rights reserved.
Poppy
Little, Brown and Company
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com
www.pickapoppy.com
First eBook Edition: October 2010
Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company
The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-12168-2
For Sara Shandler—editor, friend, shrink, alpha.
Contents
Clique Novels by Lisi Harrison:
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
A Preview of MY LITTLE PHONY, A CLIQUE NOVEL
Are you the ultimate undiscovered ALPHA?
1
ZEN CENTER
MEDITATION POOL
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 24TH
8:28 A.M.
“OHHMMMMM.”
As she sat in full lotus position on a silver blue yoga mat, Charlie Deery’s Chap Sticked lips formed a perfect circle as she chanted the sacred sound of the universe. But while her mouth was saying om, her mind was screaming ommmhmuhgud. Scared had become the new sacred.
She opened one coffee-brown eye and peeked at Alpha Academy’s holographic meditation yogi.
“No… ohhhhmmmm… Peeking… ohmmmm,” chanted Tran, his lids still blissfully shut. “Keeeep breathing… ohmmmmm.”
The chubby monk—or “Chunk”—wore a flowing saffron robe and floated a few inches above the Zen Center’s meditation pool. Conceived by Shira Brazille, head Alpha and creator of the academy’s @-shaped island, Tran’s purpose was to teach the girls at the fiercely competitive high school how to relax. And it was completely stressing Charlie out.
The meditation courtyard in the belly of the Buddha-shaped Zen Center should have been a calming respite, but after last night, Charlie wouldn’t have been able to find peace at a Woodstock reunion. After one more deep inhalation of jasmine-scented air Charlie gave up.
“Sorry, Tran,” she sighed, her mahogany bangs blowing up off her forehead. “I just can’t focus.”
Tran’s puffy cheeks expanded with his smile, slicing his double chin into a quad. His eyes crinkled into crescents as his hologram face flickered out for a split-second and then reappeared. “Buddha says: The way is not in the sky. The way is in the heart.”
“I don’t even know which way is up,” Charlie answered, her voice shaken by confusion and stirred with exhaustion. She had spent the night playing ref to an endless wrestling match between her heart and her brain, and still, there was no clear winner in sight.
She lifted her eyes to the patch of blue sky above the meditation courtyard. But instead of neon-colored parrots and personal airplanes, she saw a cloud-shaped Darwin and Allie, each silently imploring her to choose a side—their side.
“You are still looking outside yourself for answers,” he said, patting his virtual heart. “Look in.”
“How?” Charlie asked, her sage-rage mounting.
Tran flickered again. He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t want to hear it. The only thing Charlie wanted to “look in” was a pint of Tell Me What to Do Before I Go Nuts ice cream. Was he ever going to give her some real advice? If not she’d be better off with a Magic 8 Ball. At least that gave answers.
“Namaste,” she said, aiming her aPod at his muffin top, and pushing END SESSION. “Namaste,” he bowed and then disintegrated.
Now what?
She never should have let Shira connive her into breaking up with Darwin. She never should have convinced Allie to date him so she could keep tabs on him. She never should have confessed to Darwin that the dump was committed under duress. And she never should have stood there when he said he wanted her back. Because she had already promised him to Allie. But was he hers to promise?
Loyalty vs. Love? Head vs. Heart? BFFs vs. BFs? The answer was harder to come by than an iPad 4G.
Charlie unwound her legs from lotus position and reached toward the stone bench where she’d set down her breakfast, a frosted beaker full of a brain-stimulating protein shake specially concocted for invention majors. She placed the silver straw between her lips and took an aggressive sip. Hopefully the ice-cold green goo would cause brain freeze and grant her a moment of much-needed peace. But instead, all the green tea, ginger, and honey blend left behind was the metallic tinge of panic on her tongue and a mild stomachache.
Double now what?
Charlie pulled out her aPod again and began pacing the perimeter of the meditation courtyard like a caged circus lion. She had one option left. Thumbing the screen she located the Alpha Class Selector app and started to scroll through her options to see what else she could add to her schedule. Overwhelmed by the 322 current courses, Charlie decided to start with the A’s and quickly selected Acrobatics, Animation, Arabic, and Astronomy, bringing her total class periods up to eleven. Now she wouldn’t have a spare second to fret about her life.
Time Class Location
7:30 a.m. BREAKFAST AND MOTIVATIONAL
LECTURE Pavilion
8:00 a.m. (RE)INVENTION (IM’s ONLY)
Mentored lab hour for Alpha
experimentation, innovation, motivation. Marie Curie Invention Laboratory
9:00 a.m. 3-D RENDERING & ANIMATION
Create, then replicate. Programs to
reproduce your inventions on a global scale. Melinda Gates Computer Lab
9:40 a.m. INTRO TO ARABIC
Prerequisite: Fluency in Spanish, French, and German Sculpture Garden
> 10:10 a.m. PROTEIN BREAK
Nourish your mind and body with a personalized smoothie. Drink fast. Your next class starts in ten minutes. Health Food Court
10:20 a.m. THE ART OF EXCELLENCE
Betas work to live. Alphas live to work. Map your professional goals with a life coach and plot your path to the top. Elizabeth I Lecture Hall
11:30 a.m. HONE IT: FOR WRITERS
Whether fact or fiction, when Alphas write, the world reads. The Fuselage
12:40 p.m. LUNCH AND SYMPHONY
Digest lunch and life as you commune with Beethoven, Brahms, and Tchaikovsky. Pavilion
1:50 p.m. GREENER PASTURES
Learn how to keep your carbon footprint small while still wearing fabulous shoes. Vertical Farm
2:55 p.m. PHYSICS & QUANTUM LEAPS
An Alpha in motion stays in motion. Advanced mechanical/philosophical investigations in matter and mind. Newton’s Apple Orchard
4:10 p.m. ALPHAS THROUGH HISTORY
Great women have always risen to the top. Follow their example! Golda Meir Globe
5:10 p.m. FIGURE DRAWING
It’s all in the details. Train your eye and your hands. The spirit will follow. Sculpture Garden
6:00 p.m. AERODYNAMIC TRAPEZE
Soar to the top of your potential—Alphas dare to fly. Achilles Track
8:00 p.m. ASTRONOMY/ASTROLOGY
Harness the constellations and reach for the stars. Delphi Observatory
Setting her aPod down next to what remained of her breakfast, Charlie took a few cautious steps toward the reflection pool and leaned over until she could see herself in the placid water. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders, going over the situation for the hundredth time. Her relationships were tied in more knots than a cable-knit sweater. Wherever she pulled, she would end up with the same result: her life unraveling.
Best friend or boyfriend? Who should she choose? Who would she lose? She turned away from the pool and walked to the Zen garden, a rectangular patch of sand encrusted with polished pink quartz and black obsidian rocks. Picking up a small rake, she began to scratch a list of pros and cons into the sand.
STAY TRUE ALLIE WHO?
I have a best friend for the first time in my life—and I don’t want to lose her. Darwin is my soul mate. How can I pick a girl I just met over the boy I’ve loved my entire life?
Enrolling in Alpha Academy is all about making the most of myself. I need to impress Shira, not worry about Darwin! But how can I be my best self without Darwin, the one person who makes me feel most confident and secure?
If Darwin and I are meant to be it will happen for us… someday. Why not let Allie be happy in the short term? Wait! Darwin doesn’t even like Allie. He likes me! Turning him down for Allie won’t make a difference for their relationship.
Darwin and I are young. A break might be healthy. Brakes are only good for one thing—screeching to a stop.
Charlie nibbled her cuticles and studied her list. One wrong yank and the fabric of her life would collapse.
“Buddha? What should I do?” Charlie shouted up through the cavity of the giant deity. Her low, sensible voice struck her as screechy and desperate as it echoed off the hammered-silver walls. “I need a sign. And I need it fast.” She turned in a slow circle, like a satellite searching for a signal. A bird passed over the open sky above—was that the sign? Was it telling her to leave? Charlie bit her lip and struggled to interpret it, but it was so vague.
Ping!
A text from Buddha! How very modern.
She ran to her aPod.
Allie: Where R U? Hash browns at brkfst!
A slow smile spread across her face.
“Thanks, Buddha,” Charlie whispered, stepping out into the tropical sunshine of Alpha Island. She yanked the elastic out of her ponytail and liberated her brown waves. She had her answer. She finally knew what to do. The only question left was: could she go through with it?
2
APOD MESSAGE
TO ALL STUDENTS AND FACULTY
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26TH
5:00 P.M.
FEEL THE BREEZE?
CHANGE IS IN THE AIR.
ASSEMBLY AT THE PAVILION.
6:00 P.M.
DON’T BE LATE!
—SHIRA
3
OUTSIDE THE PAVILION
ISLAND PATHWAY
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26TH
5:44 P.M.
Hurrying down the gravel path between the dorms and the Pavilion, brushing past palm fronds, giant ferns, and fragrant plumeria, Allie A. Abbott’s heart was soaring like the wings of the phoenix-shaped building in front of her. Surrounded by Alphas in their school uniforms—clear gladiator sandals, balloon-sleeved button-down shirts, and pleated metallic miniskirts that twinkled in the twilight—Allie may not have been among friends, exactly, but at least she wasn’t in disguise anymore. Her blond hair was back, navy blue eyes no longer hid behind fake green contact lenses, and she’d finally rebooted her golden tan. A beauty must-have she was forced to sacrifice while pretending to be Allie J. Abbott the pasty eco-maniac who accused her of stealing sun from the flowers… along with her identity. Unfortunately, the identity part was true. But oh, well. That was more behind her than the butt floss she proudly called underwear. The days of wearing recycled granny panties were over.
Over the past couple of months, Allie’s self-esteem had congealed faster than food court Chinese food. The image of her boyfriend Fletcher and best friend Trina making out had been burned into the pleasure center of her brain. But now the burn was starting to scab over and Allie could put her energy toward scar-free healing. No more crying over the pieces of her broken heart. No more posing as Allie J. Abbott, the mega-famous folksinger whose acceptance letter she had accidentally received in the mail. No more black hair and bare feet. She had Charlie now. She had Darwin. She had hope.
“Move it, beta,” breathed Olivia Dufrenidis in Allie’s ear as she barreled past her toward the doors of the Pavilion. Olivia was a tall, D-cup, Greek olive-oil heiress who at age fourteen founded the Dufrenidis Report, a blog that broke more political news stories than Perez Hilton broke celebrity gossip. Ever since Allie’s lie had been revealed, Olivia went out of her way to bully her. Allie’s breath hitched in her throat for a second as she absorbed the insult. Beta was the worst thing you could call someone at Alpha Academy.
“Sorry,” Allie muttered, clenching her teeth as Olivia’s departing platform wedges kicked gravel onto her legs. But like the pebbles hitting her ankles, Allie reminded herself, names only hurt for a split-second. Keep it together, Al.
There were a lot of reasons Allie should have been a basket case. In August, she’d caught her boyfriend Fletcher cheating on her with her best friend, Trina. But that was only the beginning. Next, she’d committed identity fraud by faking her way into Shira’s school for overachievers. A few weeks later, Allie’s true identity was discovered and the real Allie J enrolled in the Academy. Now most girls at Alpha Academy thought she was a liar, a joke, or worse. But Allie had survived. That was what mattered. Shira had let her stay at Alpha Academy to try to prove herself, to find her passion and roll with it. And her housemates Charlie and Skye had recently forgiven her lies and impersonation. Thank God, because Allie needed to know she could count on Charlie and Skye to be there for her—especially now that the rest of the school wasn’t.
She squinted up through the blazing orange sunset at the Pavilion, its brise-soleil shades retracting on either side of the tall oblong structure like enormous white steel wings. Then she pulled out the small bottle of Purell she always carried and squirted it onto her hands, feeling instantly calmer when the germ-killing smell hit her nostrils.
Where were Charlie and Skye? Allie craned her neck, looking around for her friends like a puppy searching for its littermates. They’d both been in overdrive all weekend, trying to impress Shira by working extra-hard in their classes and even adding more courses to the
ir schedules. Allie should be following their lead, but finding your passion wasn’t like shopping for a party dress or a new bag—endless browsing wouldn’t necessarily get her any closer to unlocking her potential or uncovering a talent. And here at Alpha Academy, there weren’t any salespeople at the ready to help her with her search. Girls like Skye and Charlie had talent. All Allie had was a class schedule packed tighter than Ugly Betty in a pair of Spanx, and still she was no closer to self-discovery. She knew she had something more to offer than personal style and stellar taste… didn’t she?
Allie’s sun-kissed shoulders were jostled by the other Alphas crowding through the rounded glass doors and into the shiny white room. The space buzzed with excitement as Alphas began to look up. Above their heads were 3–D holograms of fish, whales, and giant cruise ships. A shimmering banner cascaded from one white wall to another, zooming up to the ceiling, then passing through the crowd of Alphas in a glittery rush.
YOU ARE INVITED TO SET SAIL ON THE ALPHA MUSE CRUISE SWIM IN THE SEA OF INSPIRATION WITH THE ALPHA MUSES OCTOBER EIGHTH, 7 P.M., THE ALPHA CRUISE SHIP
A shiver of excitement rippled along Allie’s spine. It would be amazing to get off Shira’s tiny woman-made island, even if it was only for a two-hour boat ride. The place was a paradise in many ways, but Allie often felt as if she were trapped in a crowded elevator stuck between floors. Allie scanned the bleachers for Skye or Charlie, but before she found them, the unmistakable sound of a guitar stopped her in her tracks.
“I’m going to play a little song for y’all,” said a scratchy voice, belonging to Allie’s housemate Allie J—or AJ, as she liked to be called.
AJ stood on one of the ergonomic white egg chairs, dominating the crowd in spite of her tiny 5’2” stature. Her scraggly black hair was tucked into a crocheted green tam that sat sagging on her head like a giant mushroom. With her vampire-pale skin and emaciated frame, she reminded Allie of the annoying hippie chick who worked at Bulgur ’N Beetz, a health-food sandwich shop back in Santa Ana. Why did health food freaks always look so sickly? Wasn’t it kind of an oxymoron?