The Prettiest

by Brigit Young

  “Well, excuse me,” Nessa said under her breath.

  “Was Miranda on the list?” Eve asked.

  Nessa eyed her phone. “Nope.” She shook her head. “Who wrote this stupid thing, I wonder? The account name is LordTesla. Creepy!”

  But Eve had retreated into her own little world. “There’s this famous Emily Dickinson poem…,” she began, and Nessa sighed.

  “Here we go with Emily again.” Nessa returned to blowing bubbles.

  “What? I love her, okay?” As Eve pushed around her fruit salad with a fork, she recited: “It goes, I’m nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too?”

  “Please get to the part where I’m supposed to understand.”

  “Okay, okay, fine. Then, in the end of the poem, it says, How dreary to be somebody. How public, like a frog. To tell one’s name, the livelong June, to an admiring bog … Get it?”

  Nessa giggled. “Huh? A bog? Nope. Don’t get it at all. Aw. I love my weird little bookworm.” She leaned in to Eve, and they folded into each other for a moment with the perfect ease and comfort of best friends since kindergarten.

  But Eve broke out of their embrace.

  “Don’t you understand? I was ‘Nobody,’ but I’m … ‘Somebody’ now! And that’s … well, a problem!”

  Nessa just stared at her.

  “My name will be called out all day to the bog? Like, the school is the bog? Get it…?”

  Nessa began to say something, but rising voices from the popular table stopped her.

  “Aw, come on, cheer up, you got silver!” Brody Dixon yelled over a half-dozen heads toward Sophie Kane.

  “What did you say?” Sophie responded, her eyes furious slits.

  “Man, what an Ice Queen…,” Nessa murmured to Eve.

  “Silver medal!” Brody continued. “A place on the podium! So why the long face?”

  “The face is the problem,” Caleb Rhines quipped from Brody’s side.

  The boys cackled. Except for one, Eve noticed. He just sat there, eating his food. He looked up, and their eyes met, and she felt her face flush. He’d caught her in a full-on stare. Whoops.

  “Who’s the one with the glasses again?” Eve turned to Nessa.

  “Winston Byrd, I think? Wins all the science awards.” Nessa shook her head, still watching the popular table. “It’s so stupid. Because Sophie is so obviously pretty. Who cares, anyway?”

  “Which part do you think is stupid? Sophie being upset about the list or Brody being a Malfoy about it?”

  “Malfoy” was the word they’d been using for “jerk” ever since they’d read Harry Potter together in second grade.

  “Both, obviously.”

  Within a flash, as if nothing had been said, Brody picked up his tray and slid in by Sophie. He rustled her blond hair, and she smacked his arm in mock anger. Brody’s constant followers, Caleb, Tariq, and Aidan, each slid in between pairs of Sophies. Winston stayed where he was.

  Popular kids were so confusing.

  * * *

  Hollers, sobs, and jeers bounced off the walls of the auditorium.

  When Principal Yu finally quieted the entire eighth grade down, sniffles could still be heard.

  “I’ve called you all here today to discuss an act of extreme disrespect. I will admit that I am truly saddened by this incident,” Principal Yu began, the school’s disappointed parent.

  Eve and Nessa sat in the second-to-last row with all three-hundred-and-something kids. Eve rested her forehead on her hand to draw zero attention to herself. But despite this effort, Curtis Milford bent into the space between Eve’s and Nessa’s ears and whispered, “Who put you as number one, anyway? You wrote the list yourself, huh?”

  Eve winced at the closeness of his voice.

  Nessa shooed Curtis away with her hand.

  He leaned back, and another boy sitting next to him said, “She’s number one because she’s frickin’ perfect, dude. Look at her!”

  “Will you guys go back to the toxic-waste bin you crawled out of?” Nessa snapped too loudly, causing a third of the auditorium to glance at them.

  Even Principal Yu stopped speaking for half a second and looked their way before continuing.

  Eve slumped lower in her chair.

  “Sorry.” Nessa shrugged. “I don’t like people getting that close to my ears.” Then she mouthed, “Personal space” as she motioned around herself.

  Curtis Milford had always seemed nice. Nice enough. Not that they ever spoke much, but they’d known each other since they were about eight. They’d played clarinet together in fifth grade band. He’d been on her sixth grade group report on Morocco. Why would he think that she wrote the list?

  Eve tuned back in to Principal Yu’s speech.

  “What went on today,” Principal Yu said with a sigh, “will not be tolerated.”

  The kids generally loved Principal Yu. She was even nice to bullies who went to the Planning Zone, which really meant detention, giving them high fives and stuff as they went about their days. They may have technically had a school counselor, but Principal Yu played that role, too. That day, though, Principal Yu’s fingers clutched her papers so hard that Eve imagined her fingertips might turn white. She didn’t seem like someone you’d want to talk to about anything.

  “All your parents have already been contacted, and they have all been invited to a community school meeting to be held here tomorrow evening. I highly encourage you to join them.” A few kids groaned at the mention of parents. But Principal Yu continued over their protestations. “For now, in terms of how we will deal with this as a community of learners at this institution, there will be antibullying sessions in every homeroom later in the week, as well as a presentation in each homeroom tomorrow on the effects of sexual harassment.”

  At the word “sexual,” several kids laughed.

  Eve couldn’t stop herself from looking around to see where Sophie Kane sat. She spotted several blond heads, but not Sophie’s.

  “For the next couple of weeks, students will immediately be granted a hall pass to go see the school counselor at any time if they wish to do so. Additionally”—and Principal Yu raised her voice as the focus of the eighth graders waned—“and you better listen to this part, everybody: This will be the last chance for the writer or writers of this list to set things straight. You know the drill, folks. Come forward now, on your own, and the punishment will be relatively light. Wait for us to find you—and we will find you—and serious consequences are on the table. Harassment will not stand here at Ford. Please,” Principal Yu pleaded with them, “be kinder to one another.”

  As the assembly ended and kids shot out of their seats to head home, Eve kept her head down and scurried past Curtis Milford and his friend. Curtis thought she wrote the list herself, that she was an attention seeker. His little buddy thought she was “frickin’ perfect.” Both felt gross.

  * * *

  Nessa’s mom drove them home. Eve and Nessa lived a block away from each other, and their parents took turns picking them up from school when it was cold. In the spring, they walked home by themselves, stopping at the grocery store along the way and noshing on the free samples. All winter long, Eve and Nessa dreamed of freedom and cubed cheese.

  Nessa’s mom asked how they were doing, and they assured her they were fine, but Eve could tell that Mrs. Flores-Brady was worried. Normally, Nessa’s mom was good at pretending to be interested when Nessa went on and on about theater and movies, but that day, as Nessa chattered away about the new cast of Hamilton, Eve thought she noticed a strain in Mrs. Flores-Brady’s “Oh yeahs?”

  As the car rolled into Eve’s driveway, Nessa’s mom motioned for Eve to lean up to the front to kiss her cheek.

  “Vaya mi vida, que dios te acompañe,” she cooed to Eve as their cheeks touched.

  Nessa’s mom often said goodbye with “may God be with you” to Eve, and Eve grinned as she heard Nessa reply: “Mama, God hung out with me and Eve earlier. He’s got other stuff to do tonight.
Big world out there.”

  As Eve hopped out of the car, she imagined Nessa’s chuckle and her mom’s eye roll, and she smiled to herself.

  * * *

  There was no laughter in Eve’s house that night as her family discussed the list over dinner.

  “I don’t understand,” her mom said. “Why would someone do this?”

  “Because middle school boys are imbeciles, Mom,” Eve’s older brother, Abe, insisted. “I mean—”

  Speaking over him, her dad teased, “And you’re a grown man now, huh?”

  “I’m serious,” Abe persisted. “The sooner girls figure out that the boys around them just don’t value their inner truth, then maybe they’ll find a little confidence. A little self-love, you know? Eve—just ignore this crap.”

  “Abe! Watch it!” Her dad didn’t care so much about curse words, but he knew it bugged her mom. And in her house, even “crap” was unacceptable.

  “And why should she ignore it?” her dad went on, a smirk back on his face, as if Abe amused him. “She’s number one! Your sister is the prettiest girl in school. I’ve always known that. And, hey, don’t forget, while you’re giving your sermon over there, that your job is to protect her. Right?” He smacked Abe on the back.

  Abe shook his head, his mop of brown hair falling in front of his eyes. “Dad, you’re a part of the problem.”

  The smile disappeared from her dad’s face. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Before her dad could continue, Eve’s little sister, Hannah, jumped in.

  “I think it’s awesome. Evie, how did you do it? I mean, seriously, you are the exact opposite of cool, and now this all of a sudden?! What happened? Is it the…” And Hannah motioned in front of her chest.

  “Hannah!” scolded her mom.

  Eve’s mom liked to say that Hannah was ten going on sixteen. However old she was or wasn’t, she was definitely annoying. She spent about twenty minutes doing her hair in the morning, hogging the bathroom.

  “What happened is someone decided to objectify our sister,” Abe lectured Hannah like a concerned teacher. “And Dad doesn’t seem to care,” he added under his breath.

  “And what does ‘objectify’ even mean?” Hannah asked, but not in the way that sounded like she actually wanted the answer. Hannah had the ability to ask questions in a voice that said, “You should really shut up.”

  “It means,” Abe answered anyway, growing heated, “that someone decided to treat her like an object. They ranked her like you’d rank video games, like ‘Top Fifty RPF Games,’ or like how you’d rate an action figure on Amazon, ignoring that she’s a human being.” He pounded the table and dropped his fork. “Jesus, it’s so sick.”

  “Abe!” Eve’s mom snapped. “Enough with the language!”

  “Really? That one? Whatever,” he muttered, and returned to shoveling food in his mouth, quickly and ferociously, as if he were about to run a marathon. Ever since he’d hit high school, he could consume three portions and still be hungry a couple of hours later, searching the fridge at all hours of the night. It drove Eve crazy when there were leftovers of her favorite dish for her lunch the next day, but Abe went on a midnight raid, and by morning they were all gone.

  “Well, I think it’s a compliment,” Hannah chirped.

  “It is!” Her dad put a hand on Hannah’s. “And I don’t need a list to tell me that my daughters are the most beautiful girls in the world.”

  He smiled warmly at Eve, but her stomach churned. She didn’t quite know why.

  Abe rolled his eyes and prepared for a debate, but their mom’s glare quieted him. Her mom hated fighting, which was too bad because her family bickered pretty much every night.

  “Is Nessa super sad that you’re number one and she’s not even on it?” Hannah asked, chewing as she spoke.

  “No!” Eve scoffed. “We’re best friends!”

  And it hit Eve that she didn’t actually know the answer. Nessa hadn’t seemed sad that day, but she should have asked Nessa how the list had made her feel. Eve had been so wrapped up in herself that she was acting exactly like the kind of girl who would be number one on a “prettiest” list, like a Sophie, only thinking about who was staring at her and when and why.

  Later that night, flopping on her bed, she texted Nessa. Hey. I’m such a total Malfoy for not asking how you’re feeling about this stupid list.

  Before Nessa could even respond, Eve added, You know you’re so pretty, right?

  lolololol, Nessa wrote back. thanks ill keep that in my heart 4ever

  Eve giggled and sent a GIF of some goofy-looking guy shrugging.

  Nessa responded with a GIF of a model strutting down the runway and flipping her hair.

  im fine, obvs, Nessa wrote. look its not a secret that a bigger girl isnt going to be in the top 50. or 100. haha not at ford at least

  Eve sent a mad face. IT’S SO STUPID! she added. And she knew better than to say Nessa wasn’t big. Nothing annoyed Nessa more. If Eve protested, “You’re not ‘bigger’!” it implied there was something wrong with being big. And there wasn’t. At all.

  You are beautiful! Eve texted. Ugh. Was that the right thing to say, or did she sound like she was trying too hard?

  Maybe there was no right thing to say. She opened the picture of the list on her phone and stared at the absence of Nessa’s name.

  It had been a horrible day, but that absence was the worst part.

  As if reading her thoughts, Nessa responded, if you feel bad for me, you’re making it worse. i mean it, okay? i. don’t. care. i can guarantee you i am the one person in that school who will win an oscar (no offense) and you’re all going to wish you were me, so it doesn’t really matter what sophie kanes little boyfriends think right now

  I’m hugging you. Eve smiled and pressed the phone to her cheek.

  me too number one. omg my mom is downstairs praying for us right now hahaha

  I’m sure mine is, too! Eve wrote. Sigh.

  * * *

  That night, as Eve’s mom surely lay in bed whispering the Sh’ma, Nessa’s mom would be praying in front of her altar, laying down some freshly bought flowers before the cross.

  They had always shared this, their God-fearing moms. Their God-neutral dads.

  And, like Nessa’s mom, Eve’s mother was always full of concerns: about Abe, that he wasn’t humble enough, about Hannah, that she cared so much about her looks. And, until today, she’d worried that Eve kept her head in her books and out of the world. But now, she’d probably worry about Eve’s newfound status as “the prettiest.”

  Eve wished she could just go back to being nobody, back to her usual spot as the quiet middle child, as the silent sidekick behind Nessa, and not shift to somebody, her name croaked out by the frogs into the bog of Ford Middle School.

  4

  SOPHIE

  The next morning Sophie woke to the sound of her sister’s snores.

  She slipped out of their shared room, down the hall to where her mom lay fast asleep after a long night of work.

  Sophie crawled under her mom’s covers. Her mom’s arm draped over her.

  “Hey,” her mom whispered into Sophie’s hair.

  “Hey.”

  Sophie’s mom still smelled like french fry grease and coffee grounds.

  “You okay, sweet girl?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Got some email from Ford,” her mom mumbled, turning onto her back, her eyes still closed.

  Sophie propped herself up and looked at her mom. Her mom was so beautiful, even all smelly from the diner and with her dark brown roots starting to show. Her lips reminded Sophie of the way little kids drew mouths on faces, in a heart shape. She looked like she should be in one of those old movies with a scarf wrapped around her head, big sunglasses on, wearing a white, billowy dress. One time, when her mom was in high school, a modeling talent scout had given her his business card. Even though nothing came of it, Sophie loved that story.

  She took in the fa
ded brown smudges on her mom’s lids where hours ago there’d been carefully applied bronze eye shadow.

  She should let her rest.

  “Yeah. The whole thing is ridiculous, Mom,” Sophie whispered, kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry.”

  As Sophie got up to leave, her mom said, “Go get ’em, honey,” and she put a pillow over her head as she went back to sleep.

  Sophie headed to the bathroom to begin her morning routine. Today she had to look better than ever. She had to make the whole school look at her and Eve Nobody Hoffman and think, “This list is meaningless.” She had to look like number one, and even more importantly, act like it. No weakness.

  She turned on her morning playlist and lip-synched at her reflection until she saw her face become stunning and felt her spine turn to steel.

  When she finished, dressed up in her best outfit—a scarlet shirt she’d found for only three bucks at Goodwill and some cute new pants she’d saved up for with her babysitting money—she went to wake up Bella.

  “Come on, Bel! Time to get up! And put on that skirt I made you! It’s finished!”

  Sophie cooked them scrambled eggs, and they headed off to school.

  She pictured Ford as it would be at that moment, at seven o’clock A.M., unlit, with no students in it. Empty. It made her think of the old battlefields they read about in history class: a long grassy valley, all quiet, birds singing just like normal. And then a loud roar would come as two sides came toward one another ready to fight.

  * * *

  Sophie and her sister were the first kids on the bus. Sophie was the only kid at Ford who lived in Silver Ledge Apartments. The rest of the Silver Ledge kids were in elementary or high school.

  “Don’t let anyone know where you live,” their mom always told them. “People in schools like yours will judge you for it. Trust me.”

  And only a couple of kids did know, the ones who boarded at the stop after them. Luckily, they’d kept quiet so far.