Pretenders

by Lisi Harrison

  I should have known Lily was in denial of her feelings. Mine must have woken hers up. Now she sees me as a threat. But, come on. My kind of threat and the one she just mailed to me are unequivocally unequal.

  Mom stopped the car in front of Octavia’s. Blake was by the window talking up a group of girls. He said something and they all laughed. I ached with jealousy. I’ll never laugh again, because juvenile detention centers aren’t funny.

  I had plans to meet Lily on the roof of the school in an hour. We were going to fix her grades. I wanted to go straight there and confront her but she was at a fashion show with Duffy. I would have called but she didn’t own a phone. I would have sent a letter by carrier pigeon but my hands were too shaky to write. Who else knows about this????

  I forced myself to kiss my mother60 goodbye and then I forced myself to go inside. Logan from the basketball team was talking to Octavia, Audri, and the Orphan about some joyride he took with Sheridan Spencer. Octavia was teasing him, saying he liked Sheridan. That it had nothing to do with the car and that he really wanted to ride Sheridan. Logan disagreed. Octavia said, then why did you go?

  Logan said, any guy would say yes to an M3 GTR!

  This made Octavia squeal with joy. I froze.

  “Did you say you rode an M3 with Sheridan Spencer?” I asked. “As in Spencer BMW?”

  “Hey, Vanessa,” Octavia said. “Awesome hair.”

  Audri agreed. Then she whispered something in Jagger the Orphan’s ear, he nodded, and they took off giggling.

  “Thanks,” I said to Octavia even though my eyes were still on Logan. He looked like a boy-band kind of guy. “Logan, did you really ride an M3 with Sheridan?”

  “He did,” Octavia answered for him. “Not because he likes her, though. He was using her for the car.”

  “When was this?” I asked. “Last Friday?”

  “Think so,” Logan said, crushing a handful of chips and sprinkling them in Octavia’s hair. This cracked her up. She dumped the bowl on his head.

  Me, about to start crying. “Did you lose a Noble High key chain that night?”

  This got his attention. “Yeah, and a Hugo Boss jacket. Did you find them?”

  I was too stunned to answer. A.J. was innocent! I wanted to punch Logan and hug him at the same time.

  The front door opened. It was Sheridan Spencer.

  “Hey, welcome,” Octavia purred. “Love the vintage dress.”61

  “Hey,” Sheridan said. She ignored the dress comment and focused on Logan’s arm, which was resting on Octavia’s shoulder.

  “You know my date, right?” Octavia asked.

  “I thought you had a game tonight?” Sheridan said.

  “He did,” Octavia said. “I invited him to come after.”

  “Is this why you invited me here?” Sheridan asked. “To rub it in my face?”

  Octavia smirked. “He’s not your boyfriend, Sheridan. I just wanted you to see that.”

  “Boyfriend?” Logan said. “Who said anything about a boyfriend?”

  “She did,” Octavia said.

  “I did not!”

  Sheridan’s phone rang. The screen flashed DUFFY. Logan grabbed it before she could talk. Sheridan fought to get it back. Octavia was laughing. I stood there feeling like an extra in a teen movie.

  Sheridan had her hands full with those two unequivocally vapid morons. So I decided to check in with Blake and then circle back to ask her about the joyride that ruined my brother’s life.

  When I got to the living room Blake was gone. Caprice Simmons said he got a call from Lily and took off. He left through the garage because he didn’t want to be rude. Then she went on about how cute and considerate he is and how lucky Lily was to have him.

  “Have him?”

  “Yeah, as her boyfriend.”

  “How do you know they’re together?” I asked.

  “He told me,” she said.

  I said something nasty in Creole and went to the bathroom. I sat on the seat and cried. Then I got angry and stopped.

  Lily felt threatened so she set me up. Now I would take her down. I dialed the police to report a possible hacking at Noble High. Then I went to find Sheridan.

  Don’t get mad, get even.

  —Robert F. Kennedy

  Oct. 12.

  I pick Audri up on my bike and we double to Octavia’s party. I ride right through the puddles and I don’t even care.

  She looks cuter than Ghoulia from Monster High.

  She says my fedora is fedorable.

  We laugh.

  We are hanging out and having fun.

  At one point she whispers, are we gonna do this or what?

  My face turns red even though I’m not exactly sure what she means by this.

  Depends.

  On what?

  What does it rhyme with? I ask.

  Bake trout, she says.

  I say sure.

  I have never baked trout before but she doesn’t know this and I don’t want her to.

  She takes my hand. Hers is clammy too. Normally a girl with a clammy hand makes me kind of sick but hers makes me feel better. Was this her first time too?

  I follow her. Everything inside me speeds.

  A few older guys are sitting on the landing at the top of the steps.

  They are drinking from red plastic cups.

  I can tell they don’t go to Noble because they are all pierced and tatted up and Noble doesn’t allow that.

  I get closer. I stop. I freak. One of the guys has a tattoo of an electric chair on his arm. I know that tattoo. I know that arm. I check the face. It’s him.

  I have to get out of there before he sees me. Before he gives me away. I say baking trout will have to wait.

  I run down the steps.

  Audri asks me what’s wrong.

  I say Crazy Pat, the navy SEAL.

  She tells me to hurry before I get caught.

  She’s right.

  Only it’s not Crazy Pat I’m worried about. He’s not real.

  Nothing I told Audri is. Everything has been a lie and she almost found out. That’s what really scares me.

  Friday, October 12, 2012

  It was cold and dark and my butt hurt from sitting on a skateboard for two hours. My red dress was smeared with snot and my temples throbbed.

  Blake clambered up to my side on the school roof. He took a hit off his inhaler and said, “How was your date?”

  “Awful.”

  “I knew that guy had Coxsackie,” Blake said, pulling me into his chest for a hug.

  I was crying too hard to laugh.

  “He invited Sheridan. He invited the entire style club. It wasn’t even a date. He doesn’t like me. I’m too weird. I spent my computer money on masculine Euro clothes for a guy who thinks I’m weird.”

  “That’s not true. I’m the only one who thinks you’re weird. Did he say you looked hot, because you do, Lil. You really look—”

  “He didn’t even see me. I saw Sheridan and took off.”

  “Why did you—”

  “I can’t compete with that. She didn’t even attempt to look pretty. She just showed up in jeans, a hippie top, and a messy ponytail. Like she was so confident she didn’t have to try. I hate blondes. I hate blondes more than I hate homeschool. And I hate homeschool more than anything and I’m going to have to go back if—where’s Vanessa? Why isn’t she here?”

  “I left the party before she got there.”

  “Blake!” I punched his arm. “Why?”

  “You called me collect. You were crying. I started wheezing. I thought you had been jumped.”

  “I called you because I don’t know Vanessa’s cell phone number. I called collect because I didn’t have a quarter. Blake, why did you ditch her? You’re messing everything up.”

  “I thought you were in trouble.”

  “I am now,” I said, crying for a whole new reason. “She’s going
to think you stood her up. Now she won’t come. My mom is going to see my real grades. I’m gonna be a Homie again!”

  “Shhhh.” Blake pulled me closer. I thought he was trying to comfort me but he was being literal. “Hear that?” Police sirens wailed on the street below. They were getting louder. “What’s going on?”

  “Who cares.” I sighed and rested my head on his belly. I searched the sky for shooting stars but it was full of clouds. No surprise there.

  EPILOGUE

  Hello, Reader.

  What do you think of our Noble heroes so far? Lies, betrayal, unrequited love, jealousy, cheating, and stealing. “Outstanding,” aren’t we? Of course, I’m being facetious. Or am I?

  The Phoenix Five did manage to hide their true selves and convince their classmates that they had it all. How did they do it?

  That’s the outstanding part.

  To be continued…

  Acknowledgments

  You know the expression “It takes a village”? Well, this is where I’m supposed to thank the members of my village for helping me bring this novel to life. But in this particular case, there was no village. I am 100 percent responsible for the making of Pretenders. I didn’t need anyone or anything. Not even a fancy machine to print the books. I typed every copy myself. I illustrated millions of covers, and I corrected my own grammatical errors. I negotiated the deal; I was my own assistant. I drove the eighteen-wheelers that delivered the books to the stores, and then I stocked the shelves while you slept.

  You’re welcome.

  (If I were a Pretender.)

  But I’m not. So keep reading, please.

  Acknowledgments (for Real)

  I’m far too grateful to the following villagers to have pulled that off. Here’s why:

  My editor, Erin Stein: She let me pitch this over the phone, which was huge because I can’t stand writing up my ideas. I didn’t know who the characters were, but she trusted me and told me to go for it. I did. Then she helped me make it so much better. TPTPTP!

  Copy master: Barbara Bakowski. This woman IS the English language.

  Design: Liz Casal, Sasha Illingworth, and David Caplan

  Marketing: Andrew Smith and Mara Lander

  PR: Melanie Chang and Kristina Aven

  My agent Richard Abate: Brilliant adviser. Fierce negotiator. Loyal friend. Incredible hair. FUPM.

  His assistant, Melissa Kahn: She always has the answers.

  My fancy LA attorney, Alex Kohner: We laugh. We cry. I sign. Thank you for always caring.

  His associate Logan Clare: Smart. Funny. Best voice ever.

  My editorial assistant, Alisha Maddocks: Alisha refers to herself as my “office elf,” but no elf could do what this girl does. (That’s right, Santa, I said it.) I am endlessly grateful for all she does and everything she teaches me. She has incredible hair, too.

  Gorjana and Vanessa S. from gorjana & griffin, for helping me create the real SWAP. Want one? www.gorjana-griffin.com. And to my amazing friend Mary Beth Pugh, for bringing us together.

  JJ Hutcheon, for reading—and finishing—my first draft. SOL.

  Candace Brokenshire: She always finds my air.

  The Fugate girls: Christine, Caterina, and Sara—my Laguna Beach focus group.

  Nick Alexander Imports BMW and MINI: Thanks for advising me on all things BMW-related. (Can I please have a MINI now?)

  The regulars on LisiHarrison.com: Thank you for always showing up.

  Immeasurable amounts of gratitude go to Kevy, Luke, Jess, and Bee-Bee. You are my heart. To Mom and Dad. To the Gottliebs, Coopers, and Harrisons. And to my amazing friends. Thanks to each one of you for letting me slip into the cone of silence. You let me go and you welcome me back. Thirty-one times and counting…

  I’m off to write book two. Monkey paws, don’t fail me now.

  Also by Lisi Harrison

  Monster High

  Monster High: The Ghoul Next Door

  Monster High: Where There’s a Wolf, There’s a Way

  Monster High: Back and Deader Than Ever

  Alphas

  Movers and Fakers

  Belle of the Brawl

  Top of the Feud Chain

  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: The Rise of the Pretty Committee

  The Cliquetionary

  These Boots Are Made for Stalking

  My Little Phony

  A Tale of Two Pretties

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  1 That was a sentence fragment. I will leave it because Ms. Silver told us to ignore grammar. Please don’t penalize me.

  2 Pronounced Shar-low. It’s my mother’s maiden name. It’s Creole, based largely on 18th-to-21st-century French.

  3 Simile.

  4 Circa 1983, when she won Miss America (except my hair is shoulder-length, clavicle-length when wet or flat-ironed).

  5 I currently have 159 awards. (Complete list available upon request.) I have served as student council president for three consecutive years. I was captain of the eighth-grade track-and-field team. I have been a Girl Scout for seven years. I have never received a grade lower than A.

  6 Latin for “truth.”

  7 I just took a pause. I’m starting to fatigue from the surge of heavy emotions gathering in my hands.

  8 A.J. failed eleventh grade and has to repeat it this year. He’s always getting suspended and he’s really disrespectful to Mom and Dad. The only things he cares about are cars. So they never let him drive one.

  9 Best tempura! The same rule applies to A.J., only he’s never won anything. So it’s all on me.

  10 Inspirational quotes are my caffeine. Same with caramel lattes from Starbucks.

  11 Sentences like this make me wish this journal were being graded.

  12 I do this while eating arrowroot cookies and sipping chamomile tea. Yum.

  13 … and keep from scratching.

  14 She is the concierge at The Lux, a five-star hotel in Manhattan.

  15 Sounds boring, but he loves that stuff.

  16 He owes my parents $800.00 for trashing the side-view mirror on the Audi. He’s not allowed to use their car until his debt is paid. The guy is obsessed with driving, so it’s killing him.

  17 I entered the Girl Scouts’ Young Women of Distinction contest. First place: Gold Award! Super prestigious. My entry is a Sealed With A Promise, or SWAP, bracelet with an envelope charm. You open the flap and whisper a personal message to yourself, then seal it shut. If you want to change it, just open the flap to let out the old one and whisper something new. The bracelets are made by Haitian orphans. All proceeds go to their orphanage. I got the sample on Saturday. I’ll take orders Monday.

  18 Lucky me.

  19 60 Minutes did a story about people who could remember every single detail from their past. The host would name a random date from twenty years ago and they would tell him exactly what they wore, ate, and did that day. At first, I thought it was the most enviable thing imaginable. Then I realized if I had it I’d remember every fight my family ever had. And that would make me itch more than I already do.

  20 Living for it.

  21 As of 1:14 PM today I am sold out of SWAP bracelets. Haiti is going to be so excited.

  22 Overachieving mode.

  23 They want to.

  24 Lov
e that phrase. Ugh. Why isn’t this journal being graded?

  25 The journal came in a FemFresh case.

  26 No. I did not make that up. My track coach’s last name is actually Speedman.

  27 Way worse.

  28 Not that I care. I have to focus on my work. It’s just nice to know he doesn’t like her.

  29 Love the image of Blake’s eyes as the moon eclipsing my rational thoughts. So poetic.

  30 I “accidentally” took Lily’s paper so I could pass it off as my own. I needed a Benihana night. Don’t judge.

  31 Referring to switching quizzes with the BP—“Before” Picture.

  32 It’s possible she did this to take me down and eliminate her competition. Must keep an eye on her. Friends close, enemies closer kind of thing.

  33 Wikipedia.

  34 And assumed he was on drugs.

  35 No fighting.

  36 Googled “what boys look for in a girl?” Sense of humor is key.

  37 Massive understatement.

  38 I am not going to call her a “Before” picture anymore. We had fun today. Do I still suspect she may be trying to sabotage my GPA? Yes. So I will watch her closely.

  39 … anymore. (See above footnote for further explanation.)

  40 Seriously, sentences like this should be graded.

  41 Another great metaphor.

  42 Another winner!

  43 … Yet.

  44 In this case, “offer” means “dare.”

  45 Not his greatest work. But effective nonetheless.

  46 I can’t believe I just wrote that. I can’t believe it’s true.

  47 I know there are Haitian orphans and even some local ones who have it a lot worse than me. Which only made me feel worse than ever.

  48 Writing “unequivocally” makes me feel unequivocally smart.

  49 “Emotional Ozone”—good name for a poem!

  50 Mom says feelings are more reliable than thoughts. I should have listened.

  51 Does she know what I did?

  52 Two napkins and a spoon.

  53 His breath smelled like coffee.

  54 Another great line. And yes, I’m bragging because I deserve to. I was under a ton of pressure when I came up with that.

  55 Hello, Principal’s Award.

  56 These words may seem redundant but they’re not. They are two different things and I would feel them both.