by Toni Runkle
“So, how exactly did Glitter Girl access all this information about Kat, you know, to determine if she was an Alpha Girl?” Jules spoke up.
Kat and Trudy stopped their bouncing. All eyes turned to Jules. Chelsea looked at Jules with that ice-cap-melting stare again. Who was this frumpy little girl wearing the Converse Hi-Tops? And why was she sitting in this room questioning her, Chelsea Ambrose?
“I’m sorry. Who are you, sweetie?” asked Chelsea in a sweet drawl that masked her dislike.
“That’s Jules,” answered Kat. “She’s my best friend.”
“Yeah, I’m her best friend. And my mom’s a lawyer and all this accessing of personal information, it just doesn’t sound too legal if you ask me.”
“I can assure you it is totally legal or we wouldn’t have been able to do it,” Chelsea said, looking at Trudy, irritated that this little troublemaker with an unflattering haircut might have raised some red flags with one of her Alpha Girls’ mothers. This was something Chelsea had not considered and something that could really cause problems for her grand scheme.
But when Trudy raised no objection and instead started shooting out a string of her own apologies because she’d forgotten to put the Splenda on the tray, Chelsea knew she was in the clear. They drank an iced-tea toast to their new Alpha Girl, Kat, and all seemed well.
Still, Chelsea felt a niggling of concern as she glanced over at the shaggy-haired Jules in the corner, refusing to raise a toast. Best friend, huh? If there’s one thing Chelsea knew about best friends, they could have influence. And judging from the looks of this girl, that could spell trouble.
• • •
Kat fell back on the king-sized, pillow-top mattress in her bedroom and stared at the ceiling in shock.
“Can you believe it? Me? Chosen by Glitter Girl?” asked Kat.
“What’s not to believe?” said Jules who was sprawled over a zebra-striped beanbag chair. “I mean, you have a real sense of style.”
Kat shot up and looked at Jules. “Really, you think so?”
“Sure. It’s not my taste, but yeah, you’ve always dressed really cool, and you’ve always seemed to know what to wear and how to wear it. I mean, since forever. And tons of girls read your blog. A lot of girls really envy you.”
“What girls envy me?” asked Kat.
Jules shifted uncomfortably, knowing she had felt that way a time or two. Not about Kat’s fashion sense. She couldn’t care less about that stuff. But about how easily Kat could talk to people and make friends. Jules always had to try so hard. Too hard sometimes, she thought.
“I don’t know. But trust me, they do,” said Jules, who quickly changed the subject. “Hey. I have a question for you. What are you going to do if they give you stuff and you don’t like it?”
“What do you mean?” asked Kat.
“I mean, you’ve always been your own girl with your own tastes. You’ve never copied other girls. That’s what’s so cool about you. But now, what if Glitter Girl gives you stuff you don’t like?”
Kat hadn’t considered this. After all, how could something so absolutely therocious-sounding as Glitter Girl be…lame? Nah. No way. They had looked into her tastes and picked her, so they had to know she would like the stuff they gave her.
“I’ll like it.”
“But what if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll say I don’t. They want my opinion, right?” said Kat, irritated.
Jules shrugged, put in her earbuds, and closed her eyes, nodding her head to unheard music.
Ugh! Upset by the fact that Jules had managed to make her worry on what should be one of the happiest days of her life, Kat stomped over to the computer and clicked on her blog. She began typing.
Guess what? Apparently I’m an Alpha Girl…
As usual, with each stroke of the keyboard, her worries began to melt away.
Chapter 6
The Stuff That Glitter Girls Are Made Of
“Have you heard about Kat Connors?”
“Yeah! She got picked by this big fashion company to try out a bunch of their new stuff…for free!”
“OMG! She is so lucky!”
“I heard she gets to invite twenty girls to a slumber party, and they get free cool stuff too!”
“That would be soooo awesome.”
“Totally!”
“I hope she chooses me.”
“I hope she chooses me!”
“I hope she chooses me!!!”
By Monday morning, the halls of Willkie Junior High School were abuzz with the news of Kat’s good fortune. When Jules’s dad dropped Kat and Jules off in front of the school, you could feel it. All eyes were on Kat. If before she had been a popular girl at school, this cemented her position as simply legendary. She was now on the Mount Rushmore of Popular, and she could sense it better than anyone.
“I haven’t seen this much excitement at school since the day those drug-sniffing dogs came last year for that assembly during Red Ribbon Week,” Jules said as they walked up the sidewalk to the school entrance.
“Those dogs were adorable,” Kat said. “And so well-trained!”
“Just like Zoe and Darcy, only without the fleas,” said Jules.
“Ha, ha,” said Kat sarcastically as the girls turned the corner in the hallway toward homeroom. Speak of the devil, as the girls approached their lockers outside the classroom, Zoe and Darcy were already there.
“Like…OMG! OMG! OMG!” bubbled Zoe, unable to contain her excitement, “This is like totally, like awesome!”
“It’s absolutely prepositional!” Darcy said, misusing yet another word and giving Kat a big hug as soon as she came within arm’s reach. “I can’t wait for the slumber party! And all that free stuff!”
“Yeah,” Kat said, wriggling out of the grasp of the slightly overenthusiastic Darcy. “It will be great. But I’ve got to figure out who to invite.”
“Like, no duh,” said Zoe, taking Kat’s arm and walking with her into first period. “You don’t want to waste any of the invitations on people who aren’t, shall we say, ‘Glitter Girl material.’” Zoe shot Jules a look over her shoulder that left no doubt who that comment was intended for. Jules responded in the mature manner that only comes from being raised by a lawyer, schooled in the fine points of debate. She stuck out her tongue at Zoe.
Jules usually took the things that Darcy and Zoe said about as seriously as she followed the NBA (in other words, not at all), but Zoe’s snide “Glitter Girl material” remark put Jules in a seriously bad mood all morning. She found her mind drifting all the way through Mr. Adams’s first period lecture on photosynthesis.
Adams was as boring as dirt, but usually Jules was able to muster the self-control to actually pay attention to his lectures. Today, however, she found herself looking across the classroom to where Kat and Darcy were sitting under a scale model of the solar system. (Darn Mr. Adams and his stupid seating chart!) Kat wouldn’t actually not invite her, would she? The whole Glitter Girl thing was stupid and superficial and all, but still…Focus, Jules, focus!
“Plants absorb light primarily using the pigment chlorophyll, which is the reason most plants have a green color,” Adams droned on, pointing to some sort of graph on the SMART Board in the front of the room. “Besides chlorophyll, plants also use pigments such as carotenes and xanthophylls.”
Kat, on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to think about photosynthesis. While there was nothing particularly unique about that, this time Kat’s daydreams had purpose. She kept thinking about the last forty-eight hours and the sound of the basketball going through the net when Kyle shot it, and how cool Chelsea’s car was, and how different everyone at school had seemed that morning.
Choosing just twenty girls to go to this party was going to be so hard. It would almost be better if she only had to choose three. BFFs only. Fine. But twen
ty! That meant she’d have to go outside her little circle of close friends and choose some girls that maybe she didn’t even know that well or (gasp!) didn’t even like that much.
Well, so be it, she thought. “To whom much is given, much is expected,” she said to herself, which was either a quote from the Bible or from Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings; she could never keep it straight in her head. All she knew was she had to come up with a list for Chelsea by the end of the day and it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Miss Connors!” Mr. Adams’s gravelly voice broke up her daydreaming.
“What page are we on?” said Kat reflexively.
“No, Miss Connors, much as we’d love to hear you opine on the life of chloroplasts, that won’t be necessary at this time,” said Mr. Adams peering over his glasses at a recently delivered note from the principal’s office. “Your presence is requested at Principal Neimeyer’s office.”
Kat looked at him as if he had suddenly started speaking Cherokee. The office? Principal Neimeyer? What in the world could this be about?
“I didn’t do anything!” Kat protested.
“I don’t recall saying that you did,” said Adams in his typical way of saying a lot while at the same time saying nothing at all.
“But…”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Connors. Your ‘but’ will have to wait,” said Mr. Adams, not realizing how his comment sounded to the ears of adolescents, who all started snickering behind their textbooks. “Get to the office. Now.”
Kat got up and slinked toward the door. Well, as much as one could slink when the eyes of thirty-one eighth graders were fastened on her.
“Mr. Adams, can she bring her ‘but’ back to class later?” asked Gustavo Reyes, who could always be counted on for a dumb joke.
The class erupted into laughter, and Kat turned a shade of red that hadn’t been invented yet.
“That’s enough, Mr. Reyes,” said Mr. Adams, turning back to the SMART Board. “Now, let’s move on to the next slide.”
As she reached the door, Kat shot Jules a look. Jules, who was as in the dark about this as Kat was, could only shrug her shoulders, as if to say, “Beats me.”
As Kat walked through the empty halls toward the principal’s office on the first floor, she started to think about her time in junior high. She thought back to how some of those creepy ninth graders had given them such a hard time on “rookie day” last year, but then she remembered what her mom told her at the time: “The only thing worse than being picked on is being ignored.”
Well, she certainly wasn’t being ignored today. Why, even some of this year’s ninth graders seemed to walk a couple of steps behind her. Funny how word got around so quickly, but then again, it wasn’t sooo funny considering that Kat’s blog was getting thousands of hits every month. Her mom told her that, in her day, a girl would simply die if that many people read her diary and knew her innermost thoughts, but Kat wondered what was the point of even having thoughts if you didn’t share them online. Her mom grew up in the Stone Age, the ever-loving Stone Age.
She entered the principal’s office and was waved in by Mrs. Henry, the school secretary, who was scratching her head and looking at the directions for a new copy machine that was now taking up the lion’s share of the outer office.
“They’re waiting for you, hon. Just go on in,” Mrs. Henry said.
They? thought Kat. That didn’t sound good.
The door to Principal Neimeyer’s office was ajar. Kat walked in slowly.
“Close it, please,” said the principal, sitting at his desk.
Kat turned to close the door and found herself face-to-face with a very stern-looking Ms. Donovan, who stood by the door with her arms folded, looking down her nose at Kat as if she had questioned the quality of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
“Have a seat, Katherine,” said Ms. Donovan in a way that Kat knew definitely was not good. Nobody called her Katherine except people who didn’t know her or her mom when she was really mad.
“Is there something you wanted to see me about?’ Kat asked.
Principal Neimeyer glanced at Ms. Donovan in a way that told Kat he had probably been forced into this meeting too.
“Er, this Glitter Girl,” he said. “Are you familiar with this outfit?”
“Oh,” said Kat, “that.”
“Yes, that,” said Ms. Donovan. “There’s been endless whispering and chitchatting about it in my class. I’ve had to fight for attention all morning.”
More than usual, you mean? thought Kat, but she knew much better than to say it.
“Katherine, this is serious business!” said Ms. Donovan, who was obviously steamed about the whole thing. “Girls are not focused on anything today but some silly sleepover at your house on Saturday.”
“Yeah, I kinda have to choose twenty girls to invite, and we all get makeovers and electronics and all kinds of free stuff from Glitter Girl. By the way, have you ever considered highlights? They would really bring out your eyes.”
“Don’t change the subject! Do you see what this is doing to the girls, Kat?” Ms. Donovan said. “Don’t you see what Glitter Girl wants from you?”
“They just want us to try some of their products. You know, lip gloss and stuff.”
“It starts with lip gloss, but do you know where it ends?”
“Eyeliner?” said Kat, making her best guess.
Principal Neimeyer nodded. Sounded reasonable to him.
“No, Kat, not eyeliner. It ends with jealousy and backbiting, and some girls being ‘in’ and some girls being excluded, and nobody even remembering why they cared so much about it in the first place.”
“Please, Ms. Donovan. I’m fourteen. I think I can handle throwing a little party without causing World War III.”
“That’s what Lady Capulet said to Juliet!” shouted Ms. Donovan, which must have meant something. What, Kat had no idea.
“Owen, you talk to her. Obviously I’m not getting through.” Ms. Donovan gave Neimeyer her most exasperated expression.
“Uh. Listen, Miss Connors,” said Principal Neimeyer, playing nervously with a pencil. “It’s all, uh, well and good that you’re having this slumber party, but I can’t have my school turned into chaos. As you know, as your principal, I’m not here to create disorder. I’m here to preserve it!”
“Uh, don’t you mean you’re here to preserve order?”
“No. I mean yes!” He turned to Ms. Donovan. “Are we done here, Ms. Donovan? I need to head over to the lunchroom. Mrs. Brandeis says there’s some problem with the latest delivery of Tater Tots.”
“Look, Kat, all we’re saying is that we have to be careful not to let this thing get out of hand,” said Ms. Donovan, calmer now. “I’ve seen how girls can treat each other with things like these, and believe me, it’s no fun to be left out.”
Never having been left out of anything, Kat would have to take Ms. Donovan’s word for it. But knowing Ms. Donovan, Kat wouldn’t be surprised if she knew that topic a little too well.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Donovan. We’re not going to make a big deal about it. It’ll be over before you know it, and by the time it happens, everybody else will have forgotten about it.”
“Good! Make sure about it,” said Mr. Neimeyer. “Now, get back to the cafeteria, er, I mean class.”
Kat politely exited the office and with great effort managed NOT to roll her eyes until she got into the hallway. Geez Louise! Adults get worked up over the smallest things.
Back in the office, Mr. Neimeyer grabbed an enormous set of keys from his desk and headed to the door.
“I’ll keep you posted,” said Ms. Donovan. “We’ve got to nip this thing in the bud.”
“What’s that? Oh, yes. Absolutely. I agree completely. By the way,” said Mr. Neimeyer as he reached for the doorknob, “she’s right.”
“Who is?”
“That girl who was just here. She was right about the highlights. They would look quite stunning.”
Ms. Donovan sighed. “Et tu, Mr. Neimeyer?”
It must have meant something. What, he had no idea.
• • •
Kat managed to survive the next four hours without incident, although she did notice that the usual circle around her at lunchtime was considerably larger than normal. She burst out of class when the three o’clock bell rang and joined Jules at their lockers.
“Come on,” she said, “we’re going to meet Darcy and Zoe at Sip N’ Suds and try to figure out who to invite to this party.” The Sip N’ Suds was a root-beer bar near the school that also doubled as a laundromat.
“Can’t,” said Jules matter-of-factly. “Today’s Monday. Shakespeare Club.”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, maybe you could drop by after. I’m sure we’ll be there for a while.”
“Maybe. I’ll text you.”
“You want to go, though, right?”
“To Sip N’ Suds? Now, why wouldn’t I want to go watch someone’s underwear tumble around in a dryer while slurping on a root-beer float? No, thanks. I’ll stick with Sonnets N’ Soliloquies.”
With that, Jules disappeared into a sea of teenage performers, playwrights, and poets. Shakespeare people. Her people.
• • •
As far as Kat was concerned, the Sip N’ Suds was the most therocious place ever invented. There was a bank of washers and dryers on one side of the store that would be buzzing with single people from the apartment complex next door, fluffing and folding and trying to make dates with each other. And on the other side there was a root-beer bar and a bunch of comfy sofas with board games and a big-screen TV and even an old-fashioned jukebox with real records in it.
Kat didn’t know how much the owners made off their coin laundry business, but since the Sip N’ Suds was just across the street, the kids at Willkie gravitated there on a daily basis. It was a lot better place than the library to hang out after a practice or rehearsal while you were waiting for your mom to pick you up. Plus, Anastasia, the old Russian lady who ran the place, would sometimes give Kat and her friends a free root-beer float for being good customers. It was here that Kat, Darcy, and Zoe were flopped on the couch, paging through last year’s yearbook, the Willkie Wolfpack.