Maisie wrinkled her nose at me. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you start growing extra body parts.”
Bree chuckled. “Lennox, this paranoid, worrywart health freak is my best friend, Maisie Snodgrass. Maisie, this is Lennox McRae.”
I almost choked on my burger at the sound of Maisie’s last name. Snodgrass? Aside from her name, I liked her. Even though I had only met her a moment before, I could tell she was a straight shooter. She didn’t care what people thought of her. No one else had brought their own tablecloth and gross health food from home, but she had no shame.
Maisie wasn’t what most people would consider pretty, and her name was unfortunate. It was like the universe had doomed her to be a social outcast before she was even conceived.
Bree drowned her tater tots in ketchup. “So, here’s Bainbridge in a nutshell. As you know, we’re a charter school, so that means anyone can come here as long as they pass the admissions test, our grade level has openings, and they live in this town or the surrounding areas. We have kids who live in Roosevelt Park, this exclusive gated community full of mansions, and kids who live in the pork-n-beans—that’s what we call the trailer parks and low-rent apartments. The people like us live in between. What brings you to Everson Falls anyway?”
An invisible fist squeezed my heart. I wasn’t ready to talk about that yet. My parents had recently split. Dad stayed in Vermont, while Mom and I moved to Maine. “My mom needed a change of scenery.”
Maisie spread something that looked like extra-pale tuna fish and smelled like feet onto a cracker. “It’s very hard to get into this school. There’s usually a waiting list. You’re lucky there was an opening in the junior class.” Maisie raised a furry red eyebrow at me. “How did you manage to bypass that super-long waiting list when you just moved here?”
The fist tightened its grip on my heart. Maisie was probably asking out of mere curiosity, but she seemed to have a touch of suspicion in her voice. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. “I just know that my mom and I filled out the application and submitted the video questionnaire, and three days later, they called us in for an in-person interview.” That wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth.
I scanned the cafeteria, making mental notes of how the kids interacted and who sat with whom, all while listening to Maisie and Bree. A table of boys with their heads bent over iPads sat at the table next to us. Across from them was a table of loud girls. One of them was standing and doing some kind of dance routine—cheerleaders. A few stray kids sat on the outer edges of the group but not many.
“Well, anyway,” Bree said. “Thank Carrington Blue for that.”
“Who’s Carrington Blue?”
Bree shoved a forkful of ketchup-drenched tater tots into her mouth. “Carrington Blue is the reason you’re at this school and the reason the PIPs have an opening. She moved away over the summer, and nobody knows why. I’m sure it had something to do with them.” She pointed her fork over her shoulder at where the PIPs sat, or rather, completely owned the room, and I couldn’t help but watch them.
They had an entire table for just the four of them, even though twenty people could have easily sat there. They all sat on the same side of the table with a can of soda in front of each of them. Pink Blazer was filing her nails. Super Model had her nose buried in a book. The platinum blonde and the girl with the lion’s mane were deep in conversation.
Three girls approached the table, and the PIPs stopped what they were doing to talk to them.
Maisie scoffed. “Pathetic. Now we have to watch all these desperate girls kiss their asses, hoping to be Carrington’s replacement, and those Piranhas are going to milk every minute of it. I heard that Karina Boyd gave Eden a pair of diamond earrings last week. What a waste. There’s no way they’re going to pick her. She has braces, and one of her boobs is noticeably bigger than the other.”
Bree pelted her with the cap of her water bottle. “Maisie!”
Maisie shrugged. “What? I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying. They’re not going to pick a girl unless they deem her to be ‘perfect.’” She put air quotes around the word perfect. “Anyway, Eden allegedly gave the earrings to her mother for her birthday and pretended that she bought them herself. Shannon Myers saw Mrs. Blackwood wearing them at Saks and bragging about how her daughter was so thoughtful and generous.”
For someone who didn’t like the PIPs, Maisie sure seemed to know a lot about them. I couldn’t keep my eyes off that table. The three girls had gone, and two more had approached. “Which one is Eden?”
Bree glanced over her shoulder again. “The one in the blazer. Eden is the Queen Piranha. Supposedly, the others get a vote on who the new PIP will be, but we all know the final decision will come down to who Eden wants. What Eden Blackwood wants, Eden Blackwood gets.”
Every so often, a cute boy would stop by and peck one of the PIPs on the cheek, only to be waved away seconds later.
Bree watched them for a moment before turning her attention back to us. “You’re right, Maisie. Until they pick a new PIP, things are going to be pretty interesting around here.”
I took a long swig of water to help wash down my burger. “What’s the deal with them? Why do girls want to be a PIP so bad?”
Bree started to answer, but Maisie cut her off. “In their heads, they’re actually something special. All the boys want them, and all the girls want to be them. Think of every movie you’ve seen with a clique of popular girls. It’s the same old, same old mean-girl BS. People hate them but love them at the same time. They’re all fascinated by their every move.”
Bree stared at her half-eaten food. “Actually, there’s a lot more to it than that. They can make things happen, and they can do whatever they want. The PIPs have all sorts of hookups and connections. I mean they always get what they want, and they always have each other’s backs. I’ve personally never done this, but people have gone to them with problems, and the PIPs always manage to find a way to solve them. They even do community service and stuff.”
Do they really do all that, or is Bree exaggerating? I couldn’t help but notice the longing in her voice. Maisie must have noticed it, too, because she rolled her eyes and went back to her food.
My gaze drifted back to the PIP table. They were alone again, discussing something with their heads close together. What are they talking about? Maybe who they would choose to take Carrington’s place. Maisie was probably right about them being typical mean girls, but that didn’t matter to me. I’d literally bumped into them that very morning. It had to be fate. They were looking for a new member, and I was going to fit the part. I had to be a PIP. Whatever it was about them that had people enamored, I was going to destroy.
***
Mom forgot to pick me up after school, even though she’d promised she would remember the night before. It was partly my fault for not reminding her that morning. I was too used to it to be surprised, but I was annoyed with her for not responding to my texts. After discovering me on the front steps of the school like an abandoned puppy, Maisie offered to drive me home in her silver Corolla. I rode in the back, while Bree sat in the front.
“Where do you live?” Maisie asked as she came to a stop at the parking lot’s exit.
I didn’t want to answer, but there was no getting around it. “Roosevelt Park,” I mumbled. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I remembered the discussion from lunchtime.
Maisie and Bree exchanged wide-eyed looks.
“Oooh. Fancy,” Maisie cooed. She looked into her rearview mirror and locked eyes with me. “Why didn’t you say anything before when we mentioned Roosevelt?”
“I don’t know.” I knew why, but it was hard to explain. The massive house in Roosevelt Park didn’t belong to my mother or me. It was Gary’s house. Gary and my mom had been seeing each other for about six months, and she thought it would be a great idea for us to move into his place a couple of months before school started. It was a stupid idea. Their relationship was still
new, and I felt like I was living with a stranger.
“It’s not really our house,” I said. “We’re just staying there until we can find a place.”
Bree and Maisie nodded and started talking about the new science teacher. They were both sure they had seen him in a documentary about America’s most wanted serial killers.
Maisie banged on her steering wheel. “It has to be him. He has that same cleft in his chin. And who would move here from California? Haven’t you noticed how everyone who moves here out of the blue is either a freak or hiding a closetful of skeletons?”
Bree winced, and Maisie looked back at me. “No offence, Lennox. I’m sure you and your mother are lovely people.”
Nodding, I said, “None taken.” But I did wonder whom she was referring to.
I was thankful when Bree and Maisie stayed quiet as we pulled into the circular driveway of Gary’s estate. The six-bedroom house was pretty impressive with its tall columns out front and brass double doors. The house we’d lived in back in Vermont hadn’t been too shabby, but it was nothing like Gary’s. His house had a theater, a tennis court, and way too much room for a single person. I guessed Mom figured she had better rectify that.
I slid my seatbelt off. “Thanks for the ride.”
Maisie gave me a two-finger salute. “No prob. See you tomorrow.”
After watching the car pull off, I let myself into Gary’s dark, silent house. Mom was home because her car was parked in the driveway. Wherever she was, she wouldn’t come out to greet me or ask me how my first day had gone. Gary’s house was big enough for us to avoid each other for days if we wanted to.
I loved my mother, and she loved me, but what had happened to my sister, Piper, had broken our relationship, probably forever. I had Piper’s wide brown eyes and button nose, so it was hard for Mom to look at me. Mom had Piper’s thick, lustrous hair and contagious smile, so the sight of her broke my heart most days. Piper had been dead for over two years, but it was hard to get over the death of a loved one when you had to see their face every day.
When Piper had died, my parents fell apart, and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t put themselves back together. Mom had an affair and got caught. Dad couldn’t forgive her, so he found a new family. I got a dad who barely called, a mother who had mentally checked out, and a dead sister who would always haunt me. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but somehow, I’d ended up with the short end of the stick.
Piper was also the reason I had been able to skip the waiting list to get into Bainbridge. I was sitting right next to Mom while she was on the phone with Principal Chambers, telling him all about how we’d lost Piper. It was a high-profile story that had made national headlines, so that definitely worked in our favor. I watched her cry and pause to breathe in all the right places. Phrases like “devastating tragedy,” “She really needs a school like yours,” and “So hard on her” were said more than once. When she nodded and wiped her tears away, I knew Principal Chambers had let me in. Satisfied, she’d hung up the phone, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The way she could turn it off and on astounded me.
Mom rubbed her forehead. “Don’t look at me like that, Lennox. Losing a child is the worst thing a person can go through. If I can find any way to use it to my advantage, I’m going to.” She glared at me with red-rimmed eyes. “If you were smart, you would too. A dead sister counts for something.”
As I dropped my backpack onto the kitchen table, the loneliness of the empty house overpowered me. A small lump rose in my throat. Long gone were the days when I would come home to Dr. Phil on the television while Mom and Piper screamed at each other. School had been rough on my sister. She would come home frustrated and take it out on Mom. I would come in and get Piper settled down enough to do her homework while Mom started dinner, and everything would be fine. All that was left was the woman who was only a shell of my former mother.
I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich and took it to my room so Mom could come out from wherever she’d gone to hide from me.
I took a bite of my sandwich, savoring the gooey cheese, and lay on the bed that didn’t belong to me in a room that was really someone else’s. The past couple of years had been a bunch of shit happening to me that I couldn’t control, but I was done with that. I closed my eyes, thinking about the PIPs, my new school, and how I was going to take control of my life and get what I wanted.
2
The PIPs
On the second day of school I declared Ms. Rosen my favorite teacher. She taught Global Studies and Current Events. Even though she put us to work on the second day, I’d expected it. I had been warned that the Bainbridge Academy for High Achievers had a “vigorous and challenging academic curriculum.” Principal Chambers had used that phrase four times during my interview. I wasn’t lazy, and I didn’t mind hard work. Keeping busy helped the time go by faster. Home projects would give me a reason to stay holed up in my bedroom and out of Mom’s way.
Ms. Rosen was laid back and not like any teacher I was used to. To start, the desks in her classroom were arranged in a circle instead of rows. Her desk was part of the circle, and she sat on it with her legs tucked underneath her. Ms. Rosen wore a cheerful yellow dress covered in flowers, which brushed the floor when she walked, and shiny white sneakers. Her dark hair was pulled up into a bun, and her wide, greenish-blue eyes were always excited about something. If I had to guess, I would say she was in her late twenties.
She didn’t assign seats. You could sit in a different seat every day, anywhere you wanted. Ms. Rosen started that day’s discussion with an article on how social media affected a teen’s mental health. She had everyone on the edge of their seats and actively participating until she split us up into groups of three to answer response questions.
I ended up in a group with Angie Kaufman and Shyla Harris. Shyla had taken the bathroom pass ten minutes before and had yet to return.
I watched the door as Angie and I pushed our desks together. “Forget about her,” Angie said. “Shyla won’t be any help anyway. I have scrunchies smarter than her, and she ends every sentence with ‘and stuff.’”
“Really?” I stifled a laugh. “I thought you had to be smart to go here. I had to take a test that was hard as hell.”
Angie narrowed her eyes at me. “Seriously? You’ve never heard of anyone working the system? I don’t know how that dolt got into BAHA, but it wasn’t because of her brilliant mind.”
Gulping, I nodded, because I wasn’t one to judge since I had skipped everyone on the waiting list. I focused on the questions Ms. Rosen had projected onto the whiteboard while I stole glances at Angie. She had short dark-purple hair, almost the color of the school building, that was pushed up into a messy ponytail, pale skin, dark eyes, and a tiny diamond stud in her left nostril. She wore a long black shirt dress with tights and gray combat boots.
She noticed me staring and frowned. “Don’t worry. I’m not one of the stupid people. I’m smart as shit, and I got in fair and square.”
“That’s good to know.” I read the first question. Why has social media led to an increase in depression and anxiety in teens?
As I thought about that, Shyla slid back into the classroom. When she’d left, her strawberry-blond tresses were loose, falling halfway down her back, but she’d pulled them back into a neat French braid.
Ms. Rosen paused the conversation she’d been having with another group of students. “Ms. Harris, you’ve been gone for almost fifteen minutes. The school rules very clearly state that bathroom breaks are not to exceed five unless there is an emergency.”
Shyla huffed and shifted her weight from her right leg to her left leg. “Come on, Ms. Rosen. I had to, like, pee and stuff.”
I locked eyes with Angie, but I couldn’t hold it in that time. We both giggled, and Shyla cast a look in our direction.
Ms. Rosen wasn’t buying it. “Well, you’ve earned yourself a demerit. Have a seat.”
Shyla clicked her tongue. “No way! A deme
rit? It’s, like, only the second day and stuff.”
According to the student code of conduct manual, which I’d had to read in its entirety in front of Principal Chambers before I took my test, three demerits equaled a strike, and three strikes got you expelled from Bainbridge. Strikes and demerits stayed with you from year to year, so essentially, you had nine chances to screw up.
Ms. Rosen was not moved. “Well, you should have thought about that before you decided to use my class for your personal grooming time—and stuff. It’s not fair to your group. You’re working with Lennox and Angie.”
Shyla pouted and stomped over to us. After she plopped down in her seat and folded her arms across her chest, she barged into a monologue of how Ms. Rosen hated her. “I mean, she drives a station wagon that’s not even from this decade. They don’t even make them anymore. She obviously hates me because I’m young, rich, and beautiful. She’s so jealous and stuff.”
Angie rolled her eyes. “Shyla, I’m jealous of anyone who doesn’t have to work with someone whose head is filled with gummy bears and Silly String. Shut the hell up and work.”
Shyla did shut up, but she didn’t do a thing to contribute to the assignment. She spent the time throwing hateful stares in Ms. Rosen’s direction or picking at her sparkly nails. That was fine with me. Angie and I had it under control. We split up the questions and came to a consensus on the responses. Like Ms. Rosen, Angie was cool in my book.
***
At lunch, I grabbed my food tray and headed over to the back table with Bree. On the way over, the supermodel PIP blocked my path. She said nothing but looked me up and down with her dazzling green eyes, apparently not too impressed by what she saw.
I forced an awkward smile. “Hey. . . you. What’s up?” Bree and I exchanged glances. Is she going to scold me again for bumping into them yesterday?
“Hi. Daniella Torres. I would like to formally invite you to join us at the PIP table today.”
Piranhas in Pink: Piranhas in Pink Book One Page 2