Let's Face It

by Jodi R. Moore

  let’s face it

  JODI R. MOORE

  let’s face it

  Copyright © 2012 by Jodi R. Moore

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

  stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

  Website: letsfaceitbook.com

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover and interior design by Andrea C. Uva

  ISBN-10: 1-469-91504-9

  ISBN-13: 978-1-469-91504-3

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Edition: February 2012

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Dedicated to the past, present, and future scientists

  whose discoveries can better our lives

  contents

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  twenty-three

  acknowledgments

  about the author

  one

  “Make a wish, Kaylin.”

  I blew out the fifteen candles on my mint-chocolate-chip ice cream cake, while my parents and two best friends clapped, but I can’t say I actually made a wish. For one, such an important wish required careful consideration and thinking through all the possible ramifications if the wish were to actually come true. And I had pretty much grown out of wishing after I discovered science and became more of a cause-and-effect kind of girl.

  The best thing about being fifteen so far was that I was finally old enough to go to the Science Camp Invitational. The key word was invitational. But I knew that once the judges saw my science fair project, it would be goodbye summer in San Diego, hello dream trip to DC.

  And that just might’ve been the only good thing about being a year older, since my body seemed to have a terrible reaction to the aging process—really just my face, to be more specific. Every month since I turned thirteen, my skin had gotten progressively worse.

  I wondered if there were people who remembered getting their first zit. I don’t think I ever had just one. It was like an overnight infestation. I had five pimples in a cluster between my chin and cheek—like a constellation. I used to like astronomy until it started appearing all over my face!

  But real friends love you even when you’re bumpy—even on days when you find it hard to love yourself. And when I was with Rachel and Jenna, I usually forgot all about my breakouts. I didn’t think about pimples when we were at Sea World earlier, petting the dolphins. Or when we came back to my house for our last sleepover of the school year and made up a dance routine to a Suki5 song. And it was only vaguely on my mind as we ate cake, until the conversation turned to much more tantalizing topics—summer crushes.

  “I can’t think of any summer crushes for me . . . yet,” Rachel said.

  “One day at Junior Lifeguards and I’m sure you’ll have one . . . or ten,” Jenna said. “Isn’t that how many you had last summer?”

  Rachel couldn’t deny it. “Need I remind you, Jenna, you nearly switched instruments after you came back from band camp and couldn’t stop talking about tuba.”

  “What was I thinking?” Jenna laughed. “Okay, what about you Kaylin? But I guess we don’t really need to ask.”

  My parents had gone upstairs and were safely out of snoop-range when I declared the first big news of my fifteenth year. “I’m totally over Sean,” I announced. “I’m not going to like him at all this summer.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “P-lease. I don’t believe you for a second!”

  But I was serious. I had liked Sean ever since we had summer Algebra Prep before seventh grade—more than 20% of my life! Which is an especially long time to like-like someone who only likes you as a friend. I knew how Sean felt not only from my super scientific observation skills, but I also verified it with his friend, Cameron.

  Turning fifteen got me thinking that 20% was enough already—enough of waiting for something to happen that just never will.

  “So if your Sean obsession is over,” Jenna said, “does this mean I won’t have to constantly hear you blab about him, read all your texts, and have to walk by his house with you? What am I going to do with all the hours you’ve just freed up in my life?”

  “I figure there’ll be dozens of Seans at Science Camp,” I told her. “And a high probability they’ll be even smarter and cuter than Sean. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the texts coming.”

  “You don’t even know for sure you’re going and you’re already crushing your crush?” Rachel said, finishing her last bites of cake. “I mean, I hope you get to go and everything, I’m just saying.”

  Mrs. Diaz said my science fair project was one of the best she’d ever seen so I had a pretty good shot at getting to represent the school at the Science Camp Invitational. Only one girl and one guy would be chosen. I secretly hoped that Sean would be going with me. Well, maybe not so secretly. I think everyone at school knew I liked him. But that was all over now.

  I brought our now empty plates to the kitchen and then plopped down next to Rachel and Jenna who were flipping through the yearbook.

  “Oooh Kaylin, your yearbook picture is sooo good!” Jenna said.

  Rachel leaned in closer. “Your skin looks so . . . clear. That’s like the best picture I’ve seen of you this year.”

  Clear. She said it with such surprise. Why did people use that word anyway? If my skin really was clear, actually transparent, then it’d be like a horror movie seeing all the bane-of-my-existence bacteria underneath.

  Smooth.

  Even-toned.

  Healthy-looking.

  Pretty.

  But she said clear. Just like all the commercials say for products that don’t work.

  My picture was a lie. Just like those commercials.

  I couldn’t stand my friends comparing the picture to how I really looked. “Does anyone want some cucumber water?” I got up to go to the kitchen before they saw me get all flustered.

  I swallowed down some water, trying to get my composure before showing my face in there again. I wondered what was worse—having an ugly yearbook picture or having my friends figure out that the only reason I didn’t look hideous was because my dad sent a digitally corrected version to the yearbook company. Worse was having to have this dilemma at all. Worse was having this horrible skin. I really couldn’t think of anything worse.

  Rachel and Jenna were looking at Jenna’s phone and whispering about something when I walked back into the room.

  “What?” Had they figured out what happened with my picture?

  “Nothing.” Rachel held in a laugh, but I could tell from the way she pursed her lips together that she was laughing inside.

  Jenna put her phone in her pocket. “Just telling Maron all the news she’s missing.” They were practically inseparable band buddies, and if Maron’s grandparents hadn’t been visiting she would’ve been with us.

  But what news? Being fifteen had been pretty uneventful so far.

  “Did you tell Maron what I said about Sean? About not liking him anymore?” I guess I didn’t really care if she knew.

  “I win!” Rachel jumped up
and down. “It’s mine!” She stuck her hand out and Jenna pulled a gold barrette out of her hair and handed it to Rachel.

  “What’s going on?” I couldn’t figure it out.

  “I lost a bet—that’s what,” Jenna pouted. “Rachel said you couldn’t go five minutes without mentioning Sean. Not that I really thought you were over him, but I thought you could at least last five minutes!”

  “I am over him!” They hadn’t even given me a chance to prove it. “I only said that because you were acting all weird.”

  “We’ll see,” Jenna said.

  “Yeah, like at the science fair this week,” Rachel added. “When Sean shows his project to the judges, we’ll see whose heart is beating fast, wishing that he’s the one you’d get to be on the plane with all the way to DC.”

  She had a point. It would be hard not to like him if we were at Science Camp together. But I wasn’t about to admit that yet.

  “Okay, I think we’ve teased you enough,” Rachel said. “Since it’s your birthday and all.”

  Jenna pulled some presents out of her quilted duffel. They were held together with festive curlycue ribbons.

  The first one was shaped like a DVD. I got more and more excited as I tore off the paper.

  “The Jonas Salk DVD!” There had been this show on TV about one of my science heroes, but somehow it got erased in the recorder before I could watch it.

  “I found it on ebay,” Jenna said. “See Rachel, I told you she wouldn’t think it was dorky.”

  “Like the mallets you wanted for your birthday?” Rachel reminded her.

  “Also not dorky,” Jenna said. “I’ll have you know, everyone in the pit was jealous of my fuzzy purple sticks.”

  “And no, that jet-packed ocean float contraption we all pitched in to get you for your birthday wasn’t dorky at all,” I said. Jenna and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You’ll thank me when I save your life one day!” Rachel said. “Okay, open the next one. It’s not exactly what you wanted, but I think it’s perfect for you.”

  After I ripped open the wrapping paper, I saw a familiar Tish Macelroy box. I had been desperate for new concealer. I was down to just scraping the edges of my last bits of Neutral Ivory 2, and looking forward to a fresh one for my birthday. I opened the box and slid the contents into the palm of my hand.

  “We thought it would look pretty with your eyes,” Rachel said. Dewey Moss eye shadow. Maybe it’d give me a little extra sparkle for the judges. “They discontinued your concealer.” What? She had to be mistaken.

  “But I think we made up for it with this last gift.”

  A skinny box.

  I had no idea what this last one was.

  But once I saw it I couldn’t believe I had forgotten.

  “The facial extractor tool. How cool! You remembered.”

  After I had a facial once, I begged my mom to let me get the tool for popping pimples—or extractions as they say in sophisticated spa talk. She said unless I was going to take classes to have the proper training and use magnification mirrors, I would just end up scarring myself.

  It wasn’t like I was some sort of cutter trying to mutilate myself. There was an acne infestation underneath my skin trying to break through. Popping was like setting it free.

  But it always came back.

  And I knew deep down that wasn’t something a tool could fix. It would just end up in my bathroom drawer with everything else I’d tried to help my skin.

  I knew from experience, and my own scientific research, that after the poking, squeezing, oozing and eventual healing, there’d be a new whitehead . . . and another . . . and red bumps . . . too many to count.

  Well, that’s an exaggeration. I had to count them for my science fair project—which I was just two days away from showing the judges.

  If I had to have bad acne, I’d at least rather have it at Science Camp!

  two

  My mom drove me to school since I was storing my science fair project in the library that morning. I wondered if I’d see Sean. I had texted him last night—just as friends—to wish him good luck. I kept checking to see if he had texted me back.

  Ooh . . . new message!

  But it was just Jenna who I was going to see in first period anyway.

  SUBJECT: Summer Crush

  I think I might have a summer crush. And he doesn’t play the tuba. Hee Hee. I know it might sound crazy and you CAN’T TELL NE1. But I figured that you of all my friends could understand. It’s Sean. But if you still like him I’d totally forget all about it—or try to anyway. Friends come first.

  “No way!” I blurted out loud and re-read her text. Maybe that’s why Jenna always acted annoyed when I talked about Sean. Did she like him that whole time?! But how could I blame her? He was so hard not to like.

  As I got more and more upset, I suddenly realized that getting upset about Jenna was inconsistent with my hypothesis that I was over my Sean crush.

  If my crush was really over, then I shouldn’t have cared who liked him.

  TO JENNA:

  I think you’d be cute together. See. I’m over him!

  REPLY FROM JENNA:

  You’re the best. Hugs O O O.

  I didn’t send her hugs back like usual, and I wasn’t sure even believed the text I had sent her.

  But it was a good experiment. If I didn’t like Sean anymore, then I wouldn’t care if Jenna liked him. So, if Jenna liked him and it didn’t bother me—then I could conclude I didn’t like Sean anymore.

  I didn’t say anything to Jenna about her text message in class. There were always other people around, and I knew she didn’t want anyone to know. But we smiled at each other about our little secret—the way only a Sean crushee and ex-Sean crushee could understand.

  At lunch, Maron signed my yearbook since she didn’t get to do it at my birthday. As she handed it back to me, she said, “There’s something in there for you but don’t show anyone.”

  Um, if she wrote it in my yearbook didn’t she realize other people would see it when they signed? But after I opened the cover and saw a little square of folded paper sitting loosely inside, I realized what she meant.

  READ IT AND RIP IT

  Jenna told me you don't like Sean anymore. I just had a question for you. I'm thinking of asking him to the movies this weekend but I'm nervous he'll say no. Do you think I should? You know him better than I do so I really wanted to get your opinion. All those times you said he looked cute in his blue and white striped shirt, I never knew what you meant. But then while he was signing my yearbook this morning, I TOTALLY saw what you meant! I hate feeling like this—especially about Sean! I hope you're not mad or anything but I don't know what to do. Should I just ask him to the movies? Nod yes or no. But don't tell anyone. Especially Jenna!

  xoxo Maron

  I slowly folded back up Maron’s note.

  Fold . . . fold . . . fold . . .

  She was staring at me like one head nod could determine her fate.

  Instead I covered my face, trying to hide my surprise—not quite sure how to answer. He signed her yearbook? He hadn’t even signed mine yet. And Maron hardly knew Sean!

  “You didn’t rip it up!” She glanced at the paper square in my hand.

  Gladly. I tore it to pieces.

  Rip. Rip.

  Rip. Riiiip!!!!

  That’s how I felt about the possibility of Maron going to the movies with Sean. My experiment was not going well.

  I couldn’t believe she told me before Jenna. But then again, I doubted Maron had gotten a text that morning from Jenna like I did. I was totally in the middle now.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, handing Maron what was left of her letter. “He might have plans already.” Like packing for Science Camp.

  After school, I went to the library to set up for the science fair. Jenna and Maron couldn’t come because they had a band banquet. But at least Rachel would be there to tell me how much better my project was than ev
eryone else’s.

  It’s a good thing I was over Sean because I was nervous enough about having to explain my results to the Science Camp judges without being all crushed-out on top of that. Rachel and I still watched Sean give his solar water heating demonstration for the judges. But that’s just because I knew he’d do an awesome job, not because I liked him.

  Immediately after, everyone went over to the next table—Courtney Capriani’s Fake Tan Facts display. My dad was taking pictures for the paper. I should’ve clued him in that he really didn’t need any of Courtney. It was a joke that she was even participating in the science fair. She only did it for extra credit. Courtney didn’t like science. She just liked being tan. Although, according to her poster, “Tanning is a science.” So ridiculous!

  For her experiment, Courtney and her friends tried different kinds of tanning lotions. One day Courtney’s knees turned orange and she went to the Valentine’s Day dance like that. She didn’t even care. That was when I realized people with pretty skin look good even when they are orange.

  “That Science Camp spot is yours!” Rachel said while we waited for the judges to come to my table. I hoped she was right. I had risked my own embarrassment for an invitation to Science Camp, evidenced by the pictures of my bad skin magnified on a poster board. So much worse than orange knees. But so much more important.

  Mrs. Diaz always said “science is truth.” I explained to the judges that my research exposed the truth about the newest Tomlin & Tomlin acne product, Clearagel, that it doesn’t clear up your skin—or at least my skin. The judges asked me a few questions about my experimental procedure. I explained step-by-step how to duplicate the experiment. Not sure why anyone would want to though since Clearagel clearly didn’t work.

  After the judges left my table, I couldn’t wait for the winners to be announced—one girl and one guy. The golden microscope trophies were on a table near the podium. And along with the trophy came the invitation to Science Camp. Acne might have ruined my freshman year, but if it could get me to DC it would almost be worth it. Although, as I stood there surrounded by my poster boards while the judges deliberated, I realized I would’ve traded my spot at Science Camp for my skin to go back to how it used to be.