Pretenders Read online

  Um, Audri, are you an escalator? (Me.)

  No, why?

  Because you keep stair-ing. Now rate me.

  Nine point five.

  Why not a ten?

  Because tens are reserved for special occasions!

  Ahhhhhhhhh! (That was both of us screaming at the same time because she was so right there with me on the Clique stuff.)

  Ehmagawd, you’re channeling Massie Block! (Audri.)

  Dad turned up the volume on CNN Radio.

  I think Isaac is getting annoyed. (Me.)

  Audri cracked up so hard her entire face turned my favorite color. Hint: the color of royalty. Hint: Massie Block’s favorite color. Anyway, Isaac was the Blocks’ driver before (SPOILER ALERT) they went broke and had to fire him. Which, o’course, Audri knew because we were ob-suh-essed with that series in middle school.

  I gave Audri a huge hug for naming my character so quickly. She pulled away fast.

  Ew, what is that? (Audri fanning the air, ah-gain!) Did you burp hand sanitizer?

  Puh-lease. (Me.) It’s Chanel No. 19. I found a sample in my mom’s makeup cabinet. It’s older than the feather hair-extension trend, but Massie wore it so…

  When Isaac dropped us at the Pick and Flick, I hooked my arm through Audri’s and summoned “Don’t Cha (Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me)” on my inner iPod. Chins up, lips pursed, eyes knowing, we catwalked toward the school’s arched entrance.

  Everyone stared. I glared.

  Duffy, the heart-drawing guy, side-eyed me again in English. So I thought:

  Um, Sheridan, are you a hammer?

  No, why?

  ’Cause you’re nailing it!

  I looked Duffy straight on and said, Hey.

  His buddy Owen Cooper flicked him on the shoulder and they started laughing. I wanted someone to laugh with too. Instead, I rolled my eyes like they were so immature.

  Attention up here, Miss Spencer, said Ms. Silver.

  My blush blushed.

  Science was next and I was determined to find a lab partner worthy of a place in my Pretty Committee.

  I zeroed in on the girl with wavy hair and green eyes. She could be the exotic one, like Alicia. Together, we’d find a financially challenged athlete to play Kristen, and Audri would play Dylan. She wasn’t big-boned or a redhead, but she thought burps were funny and was probably ready for a change after a three-year run as my Beta.

  “Alicia” was so into taking notes she didn’t notice me watching her. Thank Gawd! I didn’t want to look desperate. But the second Mr. Larsen told us to choose a partner I pounced.

  Her name was Vanessa. Which is kind of funny because she looks like Vanessa Williams from that show Ugly Betty, only younger.

  Anyway, the assignment was to pick three substances and determine their effect on the boiling point of water. I asked Vanessa why this matters when we have microwaves. She didn’t even smile. All she said was: I’ll choose the substances, work the Bunsen burner, and record our findings. You hold the beakers so they don’t tip.

  Um, Vanessa, are you a designer named Hugo?

  No.

  Then why so Bossy?

  Vanessa scratched her arms and then sat on her hands. Sorry. What did you have in mind? You know, other than a microwave?

  I want to Bunsen.

  Vanessa scratched again when Mr. Larsen came over and told us how well we were collaborating. So Vanessa, being the type who cares if science teachers like her, let it go.

  First I lit the salt.

  Then the sugar.

  Then my scarf.

  I screamed. Everyone screamed. Mr. Larsen blasted me with a fire extinguisher. Vanessa asked if she could start over with a different partner. I smelled like burnt stuffed animal. I looked like a marshmallow. That’s what you get for wearing expired perfume.

  It took most of Spanish to clean myself up and then it was lunch. I pulled Audri’s secret note out from under the salad bar and squeezed it like a first Oscar.

  It was all about the conversation she had with Jagger during lunch. I think she wants to lip-kiss him. Anyway, she went on and on about how he’s being followed by a seal (whatever that means). Everyone at the table asked, what if this seal shows up at school? (What’s the deal with this guy and animals?) Anyway, I started to panic. Did she really write “Everyone at the table”? EVERYONE? How many friends has Audri made? Two? Five? Seven? More than ten?

  I lost my appetite (unusual for a “pear,” I know) and have been light-headed and heavyhearted ever since.

  Which brings me to now: last period, Algebra. And the part that’s even more embarrassing than being publicly extinguished.

  FLASHBACK. TEN MINUTES AGO.

  I was in class, peeling off my purple nail polish, when the door opened.

  Enter: California blonde; cut-off jean shorts, navy PUMA warm-up jacket, and knee-high glitter Converse.

  Hello, Kristen! (Massie thinking that.)

  Have a seat beside Sheridan. (Mr. Baskin.)

  A few guys (and even some girls) turned to watch this tanned latecomer crop-dust our row with citrus-scented perfume.

  They wanted in. I had to act fast.

  What would Massie do? Smile? No, too wimpy. Pass a note? Too middle school. Impress her with a comeback? Ehmagawd, yes.

  Are you pregnant? (Me, whisper-asking.)

  She put a hand on her flat tummy and shook her head no.

  So why did you miss so many periods?

  Her lips curled into a grin. She leaned closer. Are you a violent toddler?

  I giggled with anticipation. No.

  Then why are you throwing Blocks?

  Huh? Was she playing along or calling me out?

  Silly Sheridan, cliques are for kids.

  Mr. Baskin asked if he was interrupting her conversation. She said no. And then: This girl beside me thinks she’s Massie Block and I told her she should try to be herself instead. Or at least pick someone more current to copy.

  Everyone laughed. I grabbed my books and bolted for the bathroom. The bell just rang. I’m still here. I’m going to text Audri and tell her to go home without me.

  Um, Sheridan, are you Green Giant Niblets?

  No.

  Then why do you live in the can?

  To Be Continued…

  END SCENE.

  Sept. 10.

  I didn’t get a lock.

  Who’s going to steal a bike from a kid with no parents?

  Besides, I scraped the red paint off so it couldn’t be ID’d. The reflectors are in the trash bin behind the pet store.

  I tagged the seat with the price gun.

  It wouldn’t get a dime on Craigslist but the owner will never recognize it so I was relieved.

  Until I saw the girl with blue glasses eyeing it after school.

  Was it hers?

  – You into bikes or something?

  She jumped back like I scared her. Then she giggled.

  – Not really.

  – We were at the same table for lunch today, right?

  She nodded.

  – I’m Audri.

  – Jagger.

  – I know.

  – Detention?

  – No. I usually get a ride with my friend but she’s got… issues. I saw this crappy bike and thought it had been abandoned so…

  – So you were going to swipe it?

  She blushed.

  – Too late, I already did.

  I’m not sure why I told her that but something about her face made me feel safe.

  – Want me to double you?

  – Sure.

  I did. It was cool. Audri’s cool.

  Time to feed the animals.

  I wonder what she’s doing right now.

  9.11.12

  INT. SAME SMELLY PLACE AS YESTERDAY.

  SHERIDAN’s hair falls in soft waves. Dressed in a white skirt and matching warm-up jacket, she channels a p
erson of great strength, determination, and blondness. A hardened athlete who is also super pretty. Tennis pro Anna Kournikova.

  FLASHBACK TO EARLIER THAT DAY. EXT. NOBLE HIGH.

  We had fourteen minutes before first period so Audri and I hung on the lawn and waited for my nemesis—aka the Algebrat. (Algebra + Brat = Algebrat.)

  What are you going to say when we see her? (Audri.)

  Nothing. I just want to show you who we’re up against. Once you have a visual we can plot her demise.

  TEN MINUTES LATER.

  Is it possible you imagined her? (Audri.)

  Maybe she transferred. (Me, hoping.)

  What if she came from the spirit world? (Audri.)

  Like one of those Shakespeare ghosts with a message? (Me.)

  Or a warning. (Audri.)

  Too far.

  We were about to give up and head to class when a pink golf cart blasting “Party Rock Anthem” skidded to a stop at the Pick and Flick. Some guys started clapping. The girls squealed with fake embarrassment. I hated them already.

  All short shorts and well-defined legs, the driver pinch-opened her hair claw and freed her own Anna K–type blondness while the trio headed down the path. When they got closer I realized it was her… she… whatever… the Algebrat!

  I smacked Audri on the arm.

  Where? (Audri.)

  (Me, ventriloquisting.) White tennis skirt, red warm-up jacket, glitter Converse. She’s channeling me channeling Anna Kournikova!

  Except she appears to be a celery and you’re a pear.

  Uh, (Me, channeling Anna K.)

  What? (Audri.)

  That means “uh, thanks” in Russian.

  Instead of laughing or maybe even apologizing, Audri lifted her blue glasses and squinted. Octavia?

  Owdee? (Algebrat to Audri, only she called her Audi like the car.)

  The first bell rang.

  Octavia dropped her pink-and-silver Big Cat PUMA bag in the middle of the walkway and raced over to hug MY best friend.

  O, that was the bell. (Her friend with the black ponytail.)

  Octavia didn’t answer because she was STILL hugging my best friend.

  O! (Her friend with the brown ponytail.)

  Meet ya.

  The girls hurried off, sporty ponytails wagging goodbye.

  Owdee, what are you doing at Noble?

  I go here. (Audri.)

  Lies!

  Audri giggled. Truths.

  You? Go to. My? School?

  I stepped closer, reminding them I went there too.

  Since when is Noble your school? (Audri sounding like an alpha.)

  It’s all mine, you know that.

  They started cracking up like crazy.

  After their over-the-top bout of hysteria, Audri finally acknowledged my presence and said, You should see O play doubles. She calls “mine” on every ball. Even when it’s on her partner’s side. It’s seriously the funniest thing ever.

  That’s against the rules! (Me as Anna K.)

  You know the rules? (Audri to me.)

  I pointed at my Adidas logo and flashed extreme wide-eyes to remind her who I was channeling.

  Oh yeah, sorry.

  That’s when Octavia looked at me kind of surprised, like I just showed up, and said, Oh. Hey. I know you.

  Yeah, we kinda met yesterday. I folded my arms across my chest so she couldn’t hear my heart.

  You’re the new locker room attendant at my racket club.

  Audri giggled.

  No, we have last period Algebra together.

  We do?

  I wanted to kick her bony undercarriage but I asked how they knew each other instead.

  Camp Wildwood, they answered at the exact same time.

  Only we didn’t meet until the second-to-last day. (O.)

  When we played each other in the Wildwood Wimbledon. (A.)

  Which is such a boo-hoo because we would have been great partners. (O.)

  Like I would ever be your partner. (A.)

  Why? (O.)

  Mine. Mine. Mine. (A.)

  They cracked up again. (Barf. Barf. Barf.)

  Lies! I wouldn’t do that with you.

  Lies! You would.

  Wouldn’t!

  Would.

  Would not.

  Would yot.

  Not.

  Yot.

  Yot? (O.)

  Yot. (A.)

  Laughter.

  Audri, when did you get into court sports? (Me.)

  I took a tennis clinic this summer. It’s fun.

  Fun?

  Who are you, again? (Octavia.)

  I’m Sheridan. Audri’s best friend.

  Best friend? (O.)

  Audri put her arm around me. I grinned proudly and reiterated, BEST.

  Octavia stepped closer. Wouldn’t a BEST friend know she plays tennis?

  Her question was a glitter high-top to the gut. But I was Anna K. It was my job to return the ball, not drop it. So I got all up in her tanned citrus-scented face and said, Wouldn’t a tennis player know not to cross the line?

  What line?

  Theee line.

  The service line or the baseline?

  Theeeeeeeeeee line.

  I’m sorry, I have no idea what line you’re talking about.

  The bell rang.

  Game over.

  Come on, you guys! (Audri.) We should get to class.

  Octavia got her Big Cat PUMA from the path and asked Audri if she had early lunch or late. Audri said early. O’course Octavia has early too. Turns out they have the entire morning together so off they ran, leaving me with Zero-Love.

  I spent all morning living for Audri’s cafeteria note but got an apology text instead. Turns out she spent lunch listening to music in O’s golf cart. I’m spending mine like a depressed Niblet—crying in the can.

  Serves me right for channeling a tennis player who’s never won a professional singles title.

  To Be Continued…

  END SCENE.

  Tuesday

  According to Hud and Coops, Mandy looks like Kate Hudson and the guys at Noble think she’s hot. Even though she’s a junior and I’m just a freshman I feel like I have to protect her so I tell them to stop talking about her like a regular girl, but that makes them do it more.

  Feeling = Disgusted.

  They think her friends are pretty too. I’ve known them for like ever so I don’t get all shy around them like Hud and Coops do, even though their hair smells like Hawaiian Punch and that’s my favorite juice. Sometimes, when they say the space between my teeth is sexy my face goes red. When that happens I look down at my sneakers and try to name the players on the Knicks.

  Carmelo Anthony

  Earl Barron

  Tyson Chandler

  … like that.

  Junior guys are the worst. Especially when they don’t know Mandy’s my sister. They don’t get why she’s with a freshman and not them. Sometimes I put my hand on her shoulder. This messes them up even more.

  Like today at lunch. She stops by my table to say she’s working an extra shift at Abercrombie so I need to find my own way home. Right when she’s telling me this some sophomore comes over and totally interrupts.

  HIM: These boys giving you trouble?

  Coops sneezed “Nehyyyy” because the guy had on one of those preppy polo shirts with the giant, steroided-out horse logo.

  Hud laughed. I choked on a curly fry.

  Then he started giving her a shoulder massage and telling her how tense she was and how she needed to relax. Hud and Coops looked at me like, are you okay with this? I wasn’t but I wasn’t okay with getting my ass kicked before tryouts either.

  Mandy wiggled him off like a spider and said: Stop it Lo-gan!

  Then Coops whispered: Stop it Lo-go!

  We died at that.

  Then Mandy’s friend Morgan called him “sopho
more” the way Bubbie Libby calls our nameless dogs “animals” and Megan said: Pervert.

  “Logo” put his hand on his heart/horse like he was all hurt and stuff, and said: Why d’ya have to take it there? I was just trying to be nice.

  ME: Nice would be you leaving us alone.

  The girls laughed—good for my ego, bad for my hoodie. Logo grabbed a handful of my fries, squeezed them between his sausage-fingers, and then smeared the potato guts on my back.

  Feeling = Slick guys are the worst.

  Three things I’ll never do:

  1. Talk like a cop and say, “These boys giving you trouble?”

  2. Tell a girl she looks tense.

  3. Name a kid Logan.

  I’d never dress like some doof in a magazine ad either. Gardner’s always getting some deal on designer brands but I wouldn’t take that stuff for free. High-tops are the only exception and that’s only because they don’t come in plain. I wish they did because someone stole my lucky Nike Air Maxes and Mom said they’re too expensive to buy again. It’s all because of that swoosh. It jacks up the price. I bet they’d cost twenty bucks without it. Anyway, I cover my swooshes with duct tape.

  Feeling = I don’t do labels. I don’t endorse for free.

  Anyway, I wasn’t about to let Logo get away with perving on Mandy and smearing on me. The guy had to be Wiped.

  I did my first Wipe when I was eleven. Amelia wrote a play called Roll with the Punches, about a girl named Jabby who falls down the stairs, ends up in a wheelchair, and becomes the best boxer in the world. Guess who played young Jabby?

  Amelia made me practice falling every day after school until I got it right. It was awesome. We still lose it when we remember the time I did it for my parents. They came home from the real estate office with pizza and all these fountain sodas. The minute they opened the door I went rolling. We tied toy trucks to my shoelaces so it would sound really loud and clanky. Like teeth and bones.

  I landed on my back and started twitching. Amelia and Mandy were cracking up. Mom started to cry. I was grounded for a month. It was worth it, though. Now I can fall like a stuntman.

  Feeling = Logo is going down after school.

  He takes the back stairwell, which was perfect. Fewer people meant fewer witnesses in case he decided to punch me or something. Hud and Coops were starting to laugh so I had to move fast. I snuck up behind Logo, and as soon as he cleared the first flight I turned to my side.