“It’s not what,” Lili corrected him. “It’s who.”
“You’re voting for me,” Ashley informed him, raising her voice when Lili starting squealing in protest. “Get your own boyfriends if you want votes!” she said merrily.
“Which number . . .” Tri murmured, squinting at the split-screen images.
“A. A. is at the top,” Lauren told him. Ashley rolled her eyes. Little Miss Helpful was just going to confuse him. Guys were much slower than girls when it came to the important things in life. “And then it’s Ashley. And then it’s—”
“Look—this is the number.” Ashley walked over and thrust her phone in his face. “A. A. can ask that guy she made out with in the closet to vote for her. She doesn’t need your vote.”
“I already told you, I didn’t make out with anyone.” A. A. looked down and didn’t meet Tri’s eyes. She stared at her phone, pounding the keys.
“Really? That’s unusual,” Ashley said innocently, wriggling back into her seat. A. A. was in such denial! She could protest all she wanted that nothing had happened, but Ashley knew the truth. A. A. must think they were all born yesterday.
That secret party footage was a killer. It was sure to clinch the deal. Ashley was so glad she’d sent Jasper that text after the lacrosse games on Saturday with her latest brilliant brainwave, and that he’d been able to find a production intern willing and able to do the dirty work on such short notice. Everyone watching at home was sure to vote for Ashley now. Who wanted a wallflower, a slut, or a backstabbing meanie to be their Preteen Queen?
“Dial faster,” she urged Tri. She noted with annoyance that he was staring intently at the screen, which was rolling credits while showing close-ups of the girls. His gazed lingered just a little too long on the shot of A. A. in her tiny dance-team uniform.
17
IT LOOKS LIKE TRI HAS NEVER HEARD OF REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY
A. A. DIALED SO MANY times her fingertips were numb. But it didn’t matter. She knew that. Nobody would be voting for her, because that TV show made her look awful. Unlike Lili and Ashley, she didn’t care very much about making it to the next round of the show, but she did care that she’d been made to look like a boy-crazy idiot on television. All the stuff filmed at school was bad enough, but the secret party footage was even worse.
Why wasn’t there a camera in the supply closet as there was in the butler’s pantry? Then everyone would see that she was telling the truth. But this way there was just her word against what everyone could see. Even if there had been a camera, the producers probably wouldn’t use the footage anyway, A. A. realized. They were looking for sleaze and scandal, not an innocent hug and a friendly conversation. She and Hunter had talked mainly about sports. But she had to admit Hunter was pretty cute, and when he asked for her number before they left the closet, she gave it to him.
That was all that happened.
But no one would ever believe her.
The whole world thought she’d made out with him.
Her face was crimson. There was no point in trying to avoid Ashley and Tri, anyway, not if she wanted to stay friends with them. Here she was in Ashley’s den, with Ashley three feet away and Tri even closer. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was actually leaning toward her.
“How come we never hang out anymore?” he muttered, not looking up from his phone. Any cessation in dialing activity would bring the wrath of Ashley down on his head.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, a little surprised that he’d even noticed. “We’re both kind of busy, I guess.”
“You could come by tomorrow. I got the new Call of Duty: Ghosts for Wii U.” He glanced up at her, his eyes hopeful.
A. A. shook her head. “Can’t, I’ve got soccer practice,” she said, even though she didn’t. However much she wanted to stay friends with Tri, however much she missed the old, easy way they used to hang out, A. A. couldn’t bring herself to say yes. Things had changed. He was Ashley’s boyfriend. Just thinking about that made her feel queasy all over again. She stole a quick look at Tri. His mouth was set in a hard line.
“You know, you should be careful of that guy you were hanging out with at the party,” Tri said softly.
“Which guy?” A. A. resented his tone.
“Hunter. The one you went into the closet with. Or didn’t you bother to find out his name?” Tri flushed, and A. A. felt like smacking him. Since when was he so sarcastic and judgmental?
“Mind your own business,” she snapped.
“Look, I’m just warning you. He just moved to our school, but everyone says he’s a total dog when it comes to girls.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I’d rather not take dating advice from a guy who lets his girlfriend boss him around all the time,” said A. A., stabbing at the numbers on her phone to release her irritation. “And besides, I can take care of myself.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Ashley called, in her bossiest this-is-my-house voice. “Tri, sweetie, are you voting for me?”
“Oh, he’s voting for you, all right,” replied A. A., and she bit her lip so hard she thought it might bleed.
She noticed that Tri gave her his most disgusted look as he inched away from her so he could sit closer to Ashley.
Who cared? He could keep his patronizing tone. That guy Hunter had been calling and texting her all week, and she hadn’t replied. But now, thanks to Tri sticking his nose where he shouldn’t, A. A. was sure of one thing.
As soon as she got out of Ashley’s house, she was going to call Hunter back.
Here at the Rank, we’ve decided to open the polls. That’s right. You can all get in on the action now. This is a democracy, darlings. Rate the girls! Vote for your favorites, just like a certain cable television show that aired the other night. We now have carpal tunnel from all that dialing!
So go ahead, you decide: Does Ashley deserve a 10 for Style, or is her recent foray into footless tights a fashion disaster? Does Lili merit a 2 for Smarts for how she handled the kiss-and-dump at the party? Does A. A. get a 9 for her sweet, heartbreaking Smile? Does Lauren deserve a 9 for Social Presence for her social-climbing agility? You decide!
We can’t wait to find out who YOU think rules the school!
18
POWER TO THE PEOPLE?
LILI COULDN’T STAND IT.
She couldn’t stand French, she couldn’t stand Madame LeBrun’s dowdy tweed skirt and sensible shoes, she couldn’t stand having to drag herself to the Alliance Française every Monday afternoon—well, getting dragged there in her mother’s SUV—and she couldn’t stand the way Max was ignoring her.
This was their first attempt at Advanced French Conversation since the make-out/breakup session at the postgame party. The Monday following the party, Madame LeBrun had been ill and canceled class. Madame turned out to have a serious infection and class was canceled for a whole month. Total relief!
But this week she was back in her usual not-very-good health and had called Lili’s mother to say she expected to see both her students. Lili tried to get out of it, but Nancy Khan closed that conversation down right away. Nobody in the Li household missed an appointment or skipped a class. The only excuse was dire illness, and Lili had never been any good at feigning sick. Her mother could see through ruses in a minute. And anyway, was she going to have to get a fever every Monday from now on? Her mother would never buy it.
Lili had been dreading French all day. What would Max say? Was he sorry at all about leaving her in the lurch? Did he even remember her since the party was weeks ago? Had he seen the whole humiliating scene play out on Preteen Queen, like every single girl at Miss Gamble’s? Lili couldn’t bear to think about that possibility. She’d even brought a box of tissues with her, so if Madame LeBrun had one of her manic sneezing fits, there’d be no excuse for the teacher to leave the room.
Lili arrived on time, as usual, and Max slouched in a few minutes later. He didn’t even look at her. He just sat down, pulled his chair forward a little so h
e was closer to Madame LeBrun, and stared straight at the teacher. Not a hello, not a nod, not even an eyebrow raise. So this was how he was going to play it—just like a boy. Ignore it and it’ll go away. How humiliating. Especially when she was the one being ignored.
Of all the things Lili was expecting Max to do or say today, him acting like he didn’t even know her was at the bottom of the list. She felt just awful. So much for hoping that he regretted his rash decision to run off at the party. He was clearly determined to cut her out of his life totally, starting with his French conversation. Despite all Madame LeBrun’s best efforts to get her two students to converse, Max directed all his questions and answers to the teacher. He just acted dumb when Madame tut-tutted about how he wasn’t interacting with Lili. Anyone looking in at the class would think he hated her.
Hopefully, nobody was looking in. Lili couldn’t be sure anymore, not since the producers pulled that hidden camera stunt at the party. Maybe Madame LeBrun was in on the conspiracy to humiliate her too. Why not?
The class was the longest hour of her life. As soon as Madame LeBrun told them they could go, Max grabbed his bag and skateboard and bolted down the stairs. That was so mature. If Max was incapable of acting in a civilized way, then it was just as well he wasn’t Lili’s boyfriend. She was never, ever going to a lacrosse game again.
By the time Lili followed Max down the stairs and out the doors—as slowly as possible, so Prince Not-at-All-Charming wouldn’t think she was chasing him—and reached the car waiting for her, he was nowhere in sight. Good. Fine.
Lili stuck her nose in the air and climbed into the luxuriously padded backseat of the SUV. If that’s how he wanted to play it, so could she.
Nothing in her life was going well at all. Since their episode of Preteen Queen had aired, all of the Ashleys were acting deflated and tired, like someone had let the air out of their balloons. The only person who was acting remotely perky was Lauren. What was up with that? Maybe she was so used to other people making fun of her that the TV show didn’t seem so bad.
But for Lili and A. A., the whole thing had been a social disaster. Even Ashley, who should have been delighted that she came out of the whole thing so well, was instead nervous as hell, worrying about whether she’d won the vote tally. They wouldn’t know until the following week, at the taping of the results party.
The SUV stopped at a light, and her BlackBerry rang. She answered it. Ashley on the line. Maybe there was word about the show at last.
“BAD NEWS!” Ashley screeched in her ear.
“What? You didn’t win? Lauren won?” Lili asked. She didn’t see how Ashley could know the winner so early, but she wouldn’t put it past her. Ever since her whole “hidden camera” trick, she seemed cozy with the producers. Maybe they’d spilled the beans.
“Forget about the show!” Ashley yelled. “I’m talking about the stupid blog. Can you believe the way anyone can destroy your average?”
Lili frowned. AshleyRank had recently gone interactive. Now it wasn’t just the mysterious webmaster who decided rankings. Anyone could go online and rank you, ever since the blog had added a new pop-up “rank” window. So now even the most socially awkward, bitter girl in the school could rank you and it would affect your overall average. No wonder Ashley was freaking out.
“Are you saying I’ve gone down in the ranking?” Lili asked, not wanting to know the dreadful truth. She’d been exultant to find herself tied with A. A. the other week and worried about slipping into the number three position once again.
“Lil, not everything is about you, okay?” snapped Ashley. “Someone has dared to give me a ‘two’ for Smile—can you believe it? My number one spot is in peril! When I find out who did it, I’m going to make sure they never eat, drink, shop, or breathe in this town again!”
Lili suppressed a laugh. So Ashley’s number one ranking was in danger? Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.
19
NEVER SAY NEVER
ASHLEY WAS TIRED OF ALL the talk about AshleyRank. Now that her numero uno position was in jeopardy, she had to start playing it down. That way, if the unthinkable happened and she dropped a notch—yikes!—then it was no biggie. She could shrug it off.
But at lunchtime in the ref, Lili kept bringing it up.
“Isn’t it cool that seven new people gave me perfect tens in everything?” she squealed.
Ashley frowned. The way the rankings were going, Lili was going to speed ahead of A. A. and come dangerously close to striking distance on Ashley’s title. She needed to change the subject pronto.
“So, girlies,” she said. “Want to play a new game?”
“What?” A. A. looked up, interested. Even Lili was quiet. Lauren stopped licking her yogurt spoon and looked up. It was the first time Ashley noticed how Lauren was still hanging around, even though the show was pretty much over. She didn’t know how she felt about that but decided it couldn’t hurt to keep the charade going, at least until the results were revealed.
Ashley reached for her can of Red Bull. “It’s called ‘I Never,’ ” she explained. “We go around the group, and each person has to say something like ‘I never pick my zits’ or ‘I never bite my cuticles.’ If you’re guilty of the crime—like if you do bite your cuticles—then you have to take a swig of your drink. You have to be totally honest, okay?”
“So if you were to say ‘I never pick my zits’ . . .” Lauren looked confused.
“Then I would have to take a drink.” Ashley took a dainty sip of her Red Bull.
“And so would I,” chimed in A. A., picking up her can.
“Me too.” Lili sighed. She drank from her can, and Lauren, with a shy smile, followed suit.
“Your turn, Lil,” said Ashley. Mission accomplished: Everyone had forgotten about AshleyRank.
“I’ve never spent more than three hundred dollars on shoes,” said Lili with a smirk.
“Everyone’s drinking to that!” A. A. predicted, and sure enough, each of the girls took a drink from their cans of Red Bull.
“How about . . . I’ve never thrown up my lunch,” said Ashley. There was a pause, and then she picked up her can. “I know, gross, right? Barfing for beauty just isn’t worth it.”
She looked around and felt better when Lili picked up her can and took a sip. “It was totally ew,” Lili confessed. “I’m never doing that again.”
A. A. made a face but didn’t pick up her can. Of course A. A. had never once thrown up her lunch, Ashley thought irritably: She had the metabolism of a boy!
Lauren hesitated, but finally she picked up her can. Well, well. Little Lauren wasn’t such a Goody Two-shoes after all.
“I only did it to see if I could,” Lauren said. “And you’re right. It is totally disgusting.”
“It’s pathetic,” Ashley declared. “Lauren, your turn.”
“Um . . . I never watch Gossip Girl ?” Lauren offered. That was the best she could come up with? Nobody even bothered picking up their cans.
“I’ve never kissed two guys on the same night,” Ashley said, hoping Lauren would get the idea. The game was supposed to be way snarky. Otherwise, what was the point?
A. A. rolled her eyes and took another sip of Red Bull. She was the only one who did so, although Lauren looked like she was about to grab the can but then thought better of it. Well, A. A. could look as pissy as she wanted, Ashley thought. It was her fault for making out with guys all the time.
“A. A.’s turn,” said Lili. God, she was so anal about turns! Ashley half expected Lili to draw up an agenda for the rest of the game. Luckily, there was only a minute of lunchtime left.
“Let me think,” said A. A., drumming the top of her can with her French-polished nails.
“How about ‘I’ve never embarrassed myself on national TV’?” groaned Lili. She checked her watch and picked up her bag. Lili could never bear to be late for class. Whereas Ashley didn’t care. Class never started till she got there.
“I’ve got one,” A. A
. said, a closed look on her face. “I’ve never kissed a boy.”
Ashley watched as A. A. picked up her can and took one long, final swig. Lauren flushed a pretty pink and picked up her can, drinking whatever was left. What? When did she kiss someone? Lili was busy drinking too. Well, at least they knew she wasn’t lying this time. Unlike the Taiwan story, the one about her and Max was true. They’d all seen it on TV.
Ashley’s hand gripped the can of Red Bull. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal her kiss-virgin status. But it was her game, and she knew the rules. You were supposed to be honest. Maybe she could just raise the can to her lips but not really drink . . . maybe that was okay?
The bell for afternoon classes rang. Saved!
Lili was already on her feet, hauling her bag off the floor, and Lauren was muttering about some boring Honors class project she had to make a presentation for. Nobody seemed to notice that Ashley hadn’t really drunk from her can.
Except for A. A., who was looking straight at her, not saying a word.
20
THE HEART IS DECEITFUL ABOVE ALL THINGS
WHEN A. A. GOT HOME from school that day, she headed straight for her bedroom and shut the door. Her mother was out somewhere—probably getting her Icelandic laser treatment or one of the Madagascan seaweed body wraps she swore by. Jeanine preferred beauty treatments, products, and therapies that came from another country, ideally somewhere super high-tech, tropical, or obscure.
She was always trying to drag A. A. to some New Age Sri Lankan spa in Russian Hill where they painted your chakra or tickled your aura or something. A. A. liked getting pedicures and massages, but her idea of relaxing wasn’t getting pummeled with hot stones or listening to weird chants. She preferred blowing up a zombie head to release tension.
Kicking off her Mary Janes, A. A., nimble as a monkey, climbed the ladder to her loft platform bed and flopped down on the soft mattress. Her phone buzzed, alerting her to an incoming text message, but she ignored it. There were other things on her mind.
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