Charlie nodded in agreement. “It took us an hour to get out here, and it wasn’t even rush hour. Imagine how long the bus would take.”
“That’s the crazy thing,” Carla explained. “Martie said they’d provide the transportation.”
Charlie was impressed. She wondered if Martie could get her a ride too. That way, she wouldn’t have to ride with her sister.
“So what’s it really like there?” Carla asked. “I mean, the other kids.”
“Oh, they’re the worst!” Charlie answered, her opinions pouring out of her like water. “The jocks strut around thinking they’re God’s gift to the universe, and the biggest stress in their lives is whether to wear boxers or briefs. And the girls are even worse. It’s all about how you dress and who you know and who you’re hooking up with. Most of them don’t have an original thought in their head—much less their own body parts. Four girls in my class got nose jobs just last semester. And there are so many fake boobs, we should just call ourselves Silicone Valley.”
“Wow,” Carla said. “Guess you’re kind of unhappy there.”
“Unhappy doesn’t even come close,” Charlie stated matter-of-factly. “There isn’t a word in the English language to describe what I think of that place.”
“Well, it can’t be all bad,” Carla offered. “I mean, you don’t seem like any of those kids you described.”
Charlie shrugged. “I keep my distance.”
“What about your friends?” Carla asked. “Do they keep their distance too?”
“My friends…” Charlie struggled to find the words, then just blurted it out. “I don’t have any friends there.”
Carla smiled and tipped the last bit of snow cone into her mouth. “Well, who knows… maybe you do now.”
Charlie finished her snow cone quickly, keeping the red cherry syrup from dripping on her shorts. As she savored the last cool shavings, she smiled. She didn’t want to jinx it, but maybe, just maybe, her days of eating fish sticks alone in the cafeteria were over.
Charlie made a mental note: Even if Carla didn’t transfer, she should stop eating the fish sticks anyway.
Chapter Four
“Come on!” Krista commanded as she grabbed her car keys off the kitchen counter.
Charlie ate her Cookie Crisp, taking one slow, determined bite at a time. “You have somewhere to be or something?” she chided, her mouth full of milk and cereal.
Krista tapped her foot, annoyed, her backpack and soccer bag already slung over her shoulder. The way Charlie acted, you’d think she was four years younger than Krista instead of the twenty-two months that actually stood between them.
“Charlie, stop fooling around. I’m serious. We have to go.”
Charlie spooned another bite into her mouth. “In a minute,” she said. She looked up at Krista. “You’re not actually wearing that, are you?”
Krista looked down at her carefully chosen outfit—boho sheer top over a white tank with worn-in True Religion jeans and beaded Planet Blue sandals. A thick chunky beaded necklace and gigantic Mary-Kate sunglasses capped off the look.
“What’s wrong with it?” Krista asked defensively. She’d been up since five o’clock in the morning, rooting through her closet, determined to pick out the perfect first-day-of-senior-year outfit. She had to look good. All eyes would be on her. She’d already IM’ed Brooks with several possibilities and now, right when she was actually feeling confident, Charlie was trying to undermine her.
Rude!
Charlie didn’t answer, but Krista had had enough. “Fine, whatever. I’m leaving. I’m not going to be late on my first day because of you.”
She strode out the back door and headed to the car. She threw her bags in the trunk and slammed it shut. She opened the driver’s side door and glanced over at the kitchen window where Charlie still sat, eating her stupid Cookie Crisp, totally unfazed. Krista shook her head. You couldn’t pay her to consume that much sugar in one sitting.
She jammed her key into the ignition, starting her Jetta. She looked again. Charlie hadn’t budged. She debated giving one last honk, then reconsidered. She wasn’t her sister’s keeper. In fact, she didn’t even feel like her sister’s sister. It was as if she lived with a virtual stranger.
Fine, Charlie could just be that way. Krista shut her door and peeled out of the driveway, making a sharp right turn onto the street. She wasn’t going to let her sister ruin her first day of senior year… or any day after that.
• • •
Pulling into the senior parking lot, into a prime space right by the math wing, Krista felt elated. She’d just hung up with Brooks, who was still a few minutes away. They always spent their ride to school talking on the phone. It made Krista wonder what people did in cars before cell phones—driving was so boring!
As she popped the trunk and got out of her car, she saw Cam across the lot, surrounded by a group of giddy sophomore girls. Krista felt a familiar pang of jealousy as she watched Regan Holder squeal in delight and give him a hug.
It couldn’t be helped, really. When your boyfriend is the captain of the football team, every girl wants to get with him.
Krista shook her head. It was just a few days ago that Regan had drunkenly spilled vodka and cranberry juice all over Brooks’s dry-clean-only BCBG top at Cam’s party. What a loser. Maybe she and Charlie should have been best friends.
“Hey, Cam,” Krista called out, giving him a casual, I’m-totally-cool-with-Regan-mauling-you wave. She was about to head over to him when she remembered Brooks’s instructions: ABC, Missy. Always be cool. Make him come to you.
She waited, wondering if he would. Then she saw Regan grab his hand.
Okay. Playing it cool only went so far. She took a deep breath and glanced at her watch. It was only ten minutes until the bell, and she needed to mark her territory. As she marched toward the sophomore gigglers, she suppressed a smile, thinking that if she were a golden retriever, she’d simply pee on Cam, ending all debate about the matter. As it was, she’d have to do things the hard way.
Nudging herself between Cam and Regan, she wrapped her arms around Cam’s neck.
“Hey, baby,” she murmured, looking deep into his eyes.
“Hey, hotness,” Cam responded.
Now she had his attention.
“Hi, Krista,” Regan chirped. “Fun party, huh?”
Krista turned and forced a smile. “It was all right. There were a few too many sloppy people by the end. It’s sooo embarrassing when people can’t control themselves.”
Regan glanced down at her shoes.
Krista wasn’t going to feel bad about embarrassing her. Ditching Charlie was one thing. Krista could forgive Regan that, even though, truth be told, she had done it in a pretty nasty way. But flirting with Cam? That was quite another.
“You look gorgeous,” Cam said. He gave Krista a long, slow kiss.
They broke apart, and Krista flashed a smile at the sophomore girls. Her smile was one of her best features. Her teeth were perfectly straight and white and, unlike Charlie, she’d never had to wear braces. Their family dentist, Dr. Payne, had even told her she had absolutely perfect teeth.
“So, ready?” she asked Cam sweetly. “I want to go to my locker before first period. I told Brooks we’d meet her.”
“Sure, let’s go.” Cam grabbed her soccer bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Senior year awaits.”
The sophomores looked disappointed, Regan most of all.
Game, set, and match, Krista thought. As they made their way inside the school, she wondered—why did Regan Holder bother her so much? And what did Krista really have to be jealous about? She was the one with the hot boyfriend. She was one of the most popular girls in the entire school. Sure, her soccer thighs were getting a little too muscular… and she could definitely pinch an inch on the underside of her arms… but she could do something about that, and she would as soon as…
“Missy!” Brooks yelled to Krista from halfway down the hall. Krista tu
rned and glanced over her shoulder.
“Hi, Missy.” She waved, right as the first bell rang. She crammed her soccer bag into her locker and turned to face Cam, who planted another huge kiss on her lips. Krista melted into him. God, he was so hot.
“You guys,” Brooks admonished as she approached. “Rent a room.”
“Everyone says that,” Krista teased. “Really, Missy, it’s so unoriginal.”
“So are your sloppy make-out sessions,” Brooks countered.
“I’ve got a room. How ’bout the janitor’s closet?” Cam suggested, raising his eyebrows seductively. “After third period.”
Krista playfully hit him. “You wish.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said, grabbing her again and pulling her close.
“Ew!” Brooks pushed him off Krista. “Okay, massive PDA? SNC.”
Cam gave Brooks a blank stare. Krista decided to translate. “Public displays of affection,” she told him. “So not cool.”
Cam raised his eyebrows at Krista. “She’s just jealous. I heard Noah didn’t give her the time of day at my party.”
Brooks’s jaw dropped at the accusation. Krista’s eyes widened in horror. She should have warned Cam not to go there. Brooks had been on a rampage since that night, hounding Krista to share everything she knew about soccer. They’d even gone shopping for new cleats and shin guards.
“Ex-ca-use me?” Brooks asked, adding a syllable to emphasize how offended she was.
Cam shrugged. “Don’t take it out on us just because you’re not getting any.”
Brooks’s eyes narrowed into two little slits. “You know what?” she said between clenched teeth. “I’d be offended if I thought you were getting some. But everyone knows you’re dating Miss Virginity here, so—”
“Brooks!” Krista exclaimed, beyond horrified.
“At least she’s not a total whore, like you,” Cam shot back.
Brooks lunged at him just as the second bell rang.
“Oh my God! You guys.” Krista stepped in between them. “Stop.” She turned to Brooks. “Listen, he didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, I did,” Cam disagreed. “I meant it. She’d get with any guy she thought would improve her image—”
“Okay, we’re late. We should really go,” Krista interrupted.
Brooks stormed off toward the English wing.
“Cam—” Krista began. He shook his head and stalked off in the other direction, leaving Krista alone at her locker.
She didn’t understand why the two people closest to her still got so riled up at each other. They’d barely even dated. If Krista didn’t know better, she’d guess that they still had feelings for each other….
Great, Krista thought. Now you’re imagining things to worry about.
She slammed the locker door shut. Hard. And ran to catch up with a very pissed-off Brooks.
• • •
Charlie biked toward Beachwood and finally saw it looming at the top of the hill. The school, beautiful but menacing, was housed in two large Spanish-style buildings. Both had indoor hallways lined with lockers and outdoor walkways surrounding grassy areas with picnic tables and trees. Krista said it looked a lot like a smaller version of Stanford’s campus when she visited.
“Get a good look while you’re visiting,” Charlie had teased, as Krista left for her college tour, “because you’re never getting in there.”
Outside the school were two separate parking lots—one for teachers and faculty, another for students. There were practice fields for sports, a field house with a weight room and full-length pool, and a stadium where athletes could play night games under the lights. From the uppermost bleacher, you could see that the school was perched at the top of a cliff, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. But to Charlie, it didn’t make a difference. No matter how pretty you made the package, school was still school.
She arrived on campus late, halfway through first period. She steered her bike into the empty bike rack and padlocked it to the metal rails, cursing Krista’s name under her breath in the process. She wondered how she could be related to such a monster. Maybe she would ask her parents for genetic testing for Christmas in order to prove that she was the victim of some twisted mistake. She couldn’t actually share DNA with Krista. And if she did? Well, that was one of the great injustices of the universe.
She unzipped her backpack and pulled out her schedule to see what class she was missing and where she needed to be next. Missing: English. Next: Choices and Challenges. She thought of going to her locker to kill time but realized she had no idea what the combination was. Students were assigned lockers for all four years and were encouraged to write the combination in a “safe, secure location.”
At the time, the sole of Charlie’s Converse sneaker had seemed as secure a location as any. Too bad they were stolen at the beach this summer.
She looked at her watch and decided to wait for second period. Walking into English late on the first day of school was like sending an invitation for ridicule to the entire class. She’d had enough of that during her freshman year to last a lifetime. She’d rather wait it out.
The bell rang for second period. Kids pushed through the classroom doors, flooding the perimeter of the school. Most students opted to walk outside whenever possible. Some kids went to smoke by the Dumpster behind the cafeteria. The thought grossed Charlie out. Smoking felt so nineties.
Pushing through the doors of Beachwood and seeing all the familiar faces, Charlie’s stomach churned. She kept her head down and barreled through the hallway.
Her mission: Get to class.
Her goal: Survive the year.
Maybe this would be the year when no one scrawled lies about her on the bathroom wall. She had Regan to thank for that. Charlie’s entire body tensed up at the thought. She remembered that day in the cafeteria last year like it was yesterday….
December 17, Charlie walked into the caf after getting a text from Regan canceling the sleepover they’d been planning for ages. They were supposed to stay up all night and watch the Molly Ringwald movies from the eighties that they’d never seen. But Nick, Regan’s new boyfriend, had invited her to a party, and in what had become par for the course, she’d decided to ditch Charlie. Well, Charlie had finally had enough. She and Regan had been best friends since they were seven. Charlie was sick of pretending she didn’t care that her best friend was virtually MIA. And ditching your friends as soon as you got a boyfriend? How disgustingly cliché was that?
But as soon as Charlie confronted Regan, she knew it was the biggest mistake of her life.
“God. Sorry I can’t sleep over,” Regan had said, hardly sorry at all. “It’s not like there won’t be a million other chances.”
“That’s not the point,” Charlie had replied, her voice naturally rising to talk over the chatter in the cafeteria. “We had plans.”
“That’s the thing about plans. They change.” Regan sighed, as if she couldn’t bother to be bothered.
“Yeah, plans change,” Charlie snapped. “But not constantly. Not all the time, every time you make them.”
Other kids at her table stopped what they were talking about to listen.
Regan looked her up and down. “What is your problem anyway?”
“My problem is that ever since you got a boyfriend, you act like I don’t exist.” Charlie tried to stay calm but her heart was racing. She didn’t like confrontation, especially in front of people. What was she thinking, starting in with Regan here in the cafeteria?
“I knew you were jealous,” Regan had snapped. “Just because I have a boyfriend and you don’t.”
“I’m not jealous,” Charlie had shot back. “I don’t even want a stupid boyfriend. All I want is—”
“What? To have me all to yourself?” Regan interrupted. “God, Charlie. Should I warn Nick he has some competition?”
The girls at her table laughed, as if they were all in on some joke Charlie didn’t understand. “What are you talking about?”
Regan’s voice soared above everyone else’s. “I knew your name was Charlie, but I didn’t think you were one of the boys.”
Charlie’s face burned with humiliation. The girls at her table laughed louder.
“I’m just saying—” Regan herself laughed now. “Well, some girls might appreciate you having a thing for them, but I’m not one of them.”
The accusation was ridiculous. Charlie didn’t have a “thing” for Regan. She just didn’t understand why her best friend constantly ditched her. Didn’t she have a right to know?
She heard the taunting laughter of the other kids and felt like a million eyes were on her.
Charlie turned and saw Krista a few tables over, gazing at her impassively. Couldn’t she see what was going on here? Why wouldn’t she do anything?
Her head spinning, Charlie hadn’t been able to see or think. Instead, she did the one thing that came naturally: if someone pushed her, she pushed back.
Charlie lunged at Regan. She shoved her hard and watched her topple back over her chair. With a thud, she landed on the ugly linoleum floor.
Charlie glanced over her shoulder at Krista, who shook her head and returned to her conversation as though nothing had happened.
Within five minutes, Charlie had been given a week’s suspension. Too bad it hadn’t been a lifetime. She knew she would never be able to go back and face everyone who’d jeered and laughed at what Regan said about her.
But eventually, of course, she had to go back. That was when things went from bad to worse. She heard girls snickering behind her in hallways—boys saying rude things to her when she stood in the lunch line or gathered her books at her locker—lies written about her on the bathroom walls.
Charlie shut it all out. She wanted to be invisible and, after keeping her head down and barely making eye contact with anyone for the second half of her freshman year, she’d succeeded.
She planned to continue that strategy as a sophomore, which was why walking into Choices and Challenges was disturbing on so many levels. Hurtful comments made in her direction were practically guaranteed. The poster inside the classroom asking, Are you depressed? didn’t help.
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