Flash. An IM window opens up. Sienna. I glance at my crumpled fortune in the trash can.
SiennasHeart: Hey, Tori
TorItUp: Hey
Doo da doo.
Crickets. Lots of crickets.
Hearing pins drop . . . Well, I have no pins in my room but I have a pink cup of pens on my desk. I knock the cup over. Hearing pens drop . . .
TorItUp: You IMed?
SiennasHeart: Hey, sorry about that. So, what’s up? I didn’t get to talk to you much after lunch. How was the rest of your summer?
How was the rest of my summer? How was the rest of my summer? Okay, I need to calm down. She’s trying here. She wants to know about me.
TorItUp: Really good. Just, you know, hung around and stuff.
TorItUp: Spent a week at my dad’s after art camp.
TorItUp: Marnie Johanson had a pool party. That was fun.
TorItUp: Went to Six Flags twice.
Um, distracted much? What, am I talking to myself here?
TorItUp: Are you still there, Sea?
SiennasHeart: Sorry! Yeah, I’m here. It’s just Antonio’s IMing me too. He’s so funny. He has me LOLing like crazy.
Oh, isn’t that special? She’s talking to Antonio. And he’s so funny in addition to being wonderful. Imagine that. She’s just about worn the L and the O right off her keyboard. Yippee. Why did she IM me then if she’s busy talking to her make-believe boyfriend? Just to show off? Well, two can play at that game.
TorItUp: Oh, me too. Not IMing with Antonio, ha ha, but with my boyfriend. Sebastian.
SiennasHeart: Tell him I said hi.
TorItUp: Ok.
Yeah. I’ll get right on that. I cross the room to the silver makeup crate on my bed stand and rummage through it. Ah, there it is. My Enchanting Espresso nail polish. I got it one day over the summer when I was just about to keel over from extreme boredom and I walked up to the Walgreens at the corner of Washington and Monroe. I sit back down in front of my PC and set to work on my nails. Soon I have one hand finished and I’m blowing on the second coat of my other hand.
SiennasHeart: Still there, Tori?
I blow on my nails one more time and then carefully type.
TorItUp: Yeah. Sorry. Sebastian was telling me a story about this kid at his school. He’s SO funny. LOL.
Yeah. I can have a funny fake boyfriend too, Sea.
SiennasHeart: Oh. Well, you probably want to talk to him. I’ll IM you later. Or just see you at school tomorrow. Bye.
Oh. She signed out. Well, geez. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings or anything. I mean, she was talking to her fake boyfriend too. Or pretending to. Whatever. Shoot. Now I feel sorta bad.
6
I kiss Mom’s cheek and climb out of her car, ready for another fun-filled day at NJHS. Daphne Mason and Bella Hardy are parked in front of the main doors, examining each other’s hairstyles. Both full of silkysmooth, flatiron goodness. I never did get into that. I always heard it takes like an hour to flatiron one’s hair and really, what’s the point? A little wave never killed anyone. I could be reading or goofing around online during that hour. It’s wash and go for me all the way. Well, a brush here and there when I’m really trying.
“Hey, Tori,” Daphne says. “Cute top.”
I look down at my shirt. Really? It’s just a pink “Support cancer research” tee over a long-sleeve white shirt. Free with donation. It’s not an expensive fancy-schmancy white tee like Daphne’s or anything.
“Uh, thanks,” I say. I attempt to walk past the girls, but Daphne grabs my arm. I look down at her hand and then at her.
“So listen, we were just talking about Wittler. You know, our science teacher? What do you think her story is?” She rubs her hands together and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, like she’s waiting for me to really dish it good.
I hesitate. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to these girls. It’s only that they’ve never talked to me before so I have to wonder what their motivation is here. Am I being set up, or are they truly being friendly?
I look at each girl. “You mean with her happy juice?” I finally ask.
Daphne slaps Bella’s shoulder, and Bella mouths an “ow.”
“I told you, Bella!” Daphne exclaims. “I told you there was something funny in that little silver bottle she has.” Daphne looks at me. “She’s drinking, right? In class. Right in front of us!”
I shrug. “That’s what I thought.”
“Oh my gosh, Tori, you totally have to sit by us in science today. We have to get to the bottom of this. I want to know if my teacher is getting sloshed during school,” Daphne says.
I raise my eyebrows like I’m mulling it over. “Okay,” I agree. “See you then.” I walk past the girls into school and head to my locker.
So that was kinda weird. Daphne and Bella want me to sit with them? While Bella has never been mean to me like Daphne, she’s never gone out of her way to be nice either. I wonder why the change.
Sienna is already standing at my locker, waiting for me. “Hey, Sea. Sorry about cutting you short last night on IM,” I say. And I really am. That wasn’t me. Not how I am with Sienna, anyway. I mean, she’s my only friend. Well, I’m not a leper or anything. I have some “friends.” She’s just my one truest bestest friend. We’ve never kept secrets from each other and I’ve never lied to her. Before now, that is. I guess my feelings are hurt from the summer of ignoration. Is that a word? It totally should be if it’s not. I’ll have to Google it later.
“Don’t worry about it, Tor. I know how it is. Boyfriends require a lot of attention,” she says.
Oh. So we’re continuing with this then? All righty. “Yep,” I agree, “they sure do.”
“So listen,” Sienna begins, “Lauren and Anica want to walk to the public library after school today to hang out. Can you come?”
Lauren and Anica? As in Lauren Hanson and Anica Speckler? Okay, if Daphne and Bella are “popular,” then Lauren and Anica are three levels above that. Most of the seventh-grade girls are afraid to even talk to them. They just stare at them in awe and then try their darnedest to copy their look. I’ve often thought it would be a fun little social experiment for Lauren and Anica to make a really crazy fashion statement—say, come to school with twenty rainbow-colored ribbons tied throughout their hair—and then see how long it took before the rest of the class was sporting the same style. They’re certainly a powerful duo. Which begs the question, Why on earth would they want to sit at a library with us? With me?
“Um, are you sure they want to go with us?” I ask.
Sienna giggles. “Well, yeah. Lauren is really sweet. She’s in my history class and we were talking about this one-page assignment due on Friday and she mentioned going to the library today to work on it.” Sienna gives me a concerned look. “Do you not want to go?”
“Oh, no. I’ll go. I just didn’t know, you know, that we were, uh, friendly with them.”
Sienna looks relieved. “Oh, yeah. It’ll be fun. You can do whatever homework you have. Or go online or whatever.”
“Okay. Sounds good,” I reply, and we head for homeroom together.
After homeroom, I head for my science class. There, Daphne and Bella wave me over right away. I pass my desk from yesterday and walk toward theirs in the back corner of the room, setting my stuff down at an empty desk next to Daphne’s.
My stomach churns a bit and I briefly consider turning back and sitting somewhere else. But that would be way rude at this point.
“We have the perfect plan,” Bella whispers.
“You know how Wittler has an office back here?” Daphne asks.
I nod. It’s practically right behind us.
“I saw her carry that silver bottle in there yesterday.”
I think for a moment. “Yeah. You’re right. She did do that.”
“Well,” Daphne continues, “yesterday when Brad Peters got in trouble she sent him to sit in her office for ten minutes. So I’m going to get
in trouble during class so she sends me too. And I’ll just go through her drawers while I’m there and see what she’s got.”
I smile. “Sounds like a good plan.”
A few minutes later class starts and Mrs. Wittler takes roll. She passes out a pop quiz and we all set to work. Mrs. Wittler walks down the aisle between Daphne and me, and we look at each other and then turn to watch her go in her office. Daphne mouths, “Told you.” A few moments later Mrs. Wittler returns to the front of the room.
“This is stupid,” Daphne announces, breaking the silence. The whole class turns and stares at her.
My stomach does a flip. I know this is the plan, for Daphne to get in trouble, but now that it’s happening I’m nervous for her. She sure doesn’t look scared though.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Wittler says, a look of fury across her face. She pulls her glasses down on her nose so that she can glare at Daphne over the top of them. I’ve often wondered if glasses-wearing adults really need to do this to see or if they do it because they think it fills youths with fear.
“This quiz. It’s stupid. It’s only the second day of class. How are we supposed to know any of this stuff?”
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. This girl is so gutsy. I love it! I’d never ever confront a teacher like this myself, but it’s kind of interesting watching her. Not to mention, her question is extremely valid.
Mrs. Wittler looks appalled. And not about to address Daphne’s question. “Daphne Mason,” she growls, “pick up your things and go sit in my office. Do not come out until your quiz is complete.”
The whole class is silent, watching the showdown.
“Whatever,” Daphne says, gathering her things. She winks at Bella and me as she pretends to be mad and stomps to Mrs. Wittler’s office.
I smile at Bella.
“Tori Barnes, do you have something you wish to share?” Mrs. Wittler asks.
I shake my head.
“Then back to your quiz. Everyone.” Mrs. Wittler gives the room the evil eye and then sits on her stool, taking a long sip from her coffee cup.
I wait until Mrs. Wittler is looking down at some work on her lab table before I sneak a look at Daphne in the office. Daphne is laughing and rubbing her hands together. She must have found something good.
“What?” I mouth to her.
She holds up her index finger, so I wait. A moment later she peeks into the room to make sure Mrs. Wittler isn’t looking at her and then pulls a giant brown bottle of whiskey from behind her back.
Bella and I look at each other, gaping. Oh my gosh, the teacher is really freakin’ drinking during class!
Daphne covers her mouth and her shoulders shake. She darts another look at Mrs. Wittler and then returns to the teacher’s desk and puts the whiskey back where she found it.
After we turn in the quizzes and Daphne’s punishment ends, she comes back to her seat, slapping hands with Bella and me.
I like these girls. They’re fun.
7
The last bell rings and I grab my stuff from my locker and head for the school doors.
“Later, Tori,” Daphne calls from her locker down the hallway, and Bella, who is waiting for her, waves.
“Later,” I echo. I sling my backpack over my shoulder. It’s heavy. It’s only the start of the school year and the teachers are already loading on the homework.
“There you are,” Sienna says, coming out of the bathroom.
“I was coming to look for you,” I reply.
“I was doing a quick makeup check. You need to stop?”
I shake my head. I’m not wearing any makeup, so nope.
“Great, let’s go out and meet them,” Sienna says.
We walk outside and Lauren and Anica are leaning against the bike rack, waiting for us. Lauren is wearing a purple top, short pink skirt, and long purple slouch boots, and Anica has on almost the same outfit but reversed colors. It’s like they just swapped skirts once they got to school.
“Hey,” Sienna calls, and the girls smile sweetly. I nod. They’re so popular that it feels like coming face-to-face with Carrie Underwood and Kelly Clarkson. The only phrase that comes to mind is “I love your music.” But that obviously isn’t appropriate for this situation.
We start the four-block walk to the public library, and I’m doing more listening than talking. Lauren is asking Sienna questions about where she stayed this summer. It seems Lauren went to the Keys with her family last year, so they have loads to compare.
When we get to the library we take a seat at a rectangular table in the teen zone. Our library was rebuilt last year, so it’s totally decked out. The teen section doesn’t only have books—it has a ton of computers, a little café, a media center, and a small stage for performances. It’s the place to be. Everybody comes here. Even when it wasn’t the hot spot, Sea and I came to the library all the time over our summer breaks. One of our favorite things to do was sneak into the adult section and grab a romance novel. They were really easy to spot—we just had to look for covers with guys with long greasy hair and big bare chests, and bingo. We’d stuff them into more age-appropriate books like Little House on the Prairie and sit in the children’s section reading. We’d giggle and point out the funny parts to each other, like “her heaving bosoms” or “his arched muscular back.” It kind of makes me laugh even thinking about it now. I should ask Sea if she remembers.
“So do you miss Antonio?” Lauren asks Sienna.
Or not.
“Oh, so much. It’s really hard not being able to see him,” Sienna replies.
Uh-huh. I have a hard time not seeing make-believe people too.
“I know what you mean,” Lauren commiserates. “Well, not totally, but I only get to see Pete once a week on Saturdays.”
I must have a confused look, because a second later Sienna tells me, “Pete is Lauren’s boyfriend. He goes to the Catholic school.”
“Yeah,” Lauren pipes in. “Our parents only allow us one movie a week on Saturday afternoons. My mom drops off and his mom picks up.”
“Oh,” I say, nodding.
“And I don’t even get that,” Anica remarks. “I’m going out with Pete’s best friend, Evan, but we don’t actually ever go anywhere. We’re allowed one ten-minute phone call a night. But all the time online that we want,” she quickly adds. “As long as my mom doesn’t catch me, that is.”
“So we all have boyfriends here,” Sienna concludes, smiling.
Yeah. We’re a regular boyfriend club. Except Lauren’s and Anica’s boyfriends sound more real than Sienna’s and mine.
“Have you kissed Antonio yet?” Lauren asks Sienna.
Sienna’s cheeks actually flush. I’m impressed. I don’t think I could make myself flush on the spot like that. Wait, I’m going to try. Nope, nothing.
“Well, yeah,” she answers sheepishly.
“Did he ever pass you his gum?” Anica asks.
“Eww,” I let out. I can’t help it. That’s disgusting.
Sienna looks at me. “You mean Sebastian never passed you his gum?”
“Uh, no. That’s so gross. Do you know how dirty the human mouth is? I read online somewhere that the human mouth is literally bursting with bacteria. And you want to take someone else’s bacteriaed-up gum and put it into your mouth? Pssh. No thanks. Not me.”
“What about when he sticks his tongue in your mouth?” Lauren inquires, and Sienna and Anica cover their mouths and giggle.
I shrug. My fake boyfriend’s fake tongue doesn’t have any real bacteria on it, so I’ve never found it to be a problem.
Sienna suddenly stands, breaking up the conversation. “Hey, Tori, wanna go with me to check e-mail?”
“Sure,” I reply, grateful for the escape. I get up and follow her.
We sign in at the librarian’s desk and then take seats at two of the computers. I launch a Web browser and check my e-mail.
“Oh!” Sienna squeals with delight.
“What’s up?” I ask.
> “Look, Antonio wrote me this long e-mail and it’s so sweet.”
I glance over and read:
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Re: Your day
Hey Sienna,
How’s your day? What are you—
Sienna slaps a hand across the screen. “Wait. I better read it first. I don’t know what the rest of it says.” She turns the monitor away from me and reads.
So it’s like that? Well, two can set up fake e-mail accounts.
I quickly log myself out and set up a new account for one SColander.
“Awwww . . .” Sienna moans from beside me, and I throw her a glare.
Once the account is set up, I decide not to write myself an e-mail but to do something a little grander. I log on to kiss2u.com and scan the available kisses for a good one.
“AWWWW . . .” Sienna remarks, louder now, pouting out her bottom lip and wiggling her shoulders.
She’s really going for the Golden Globe here.
I select the “Thinking of You” kiss and type my e-mail address in the To: box and Sebastian’s in the From: box, add a cute message, and click Send.
Sienna lets out a dramatic happy sigh and glances at me, obviously disappointed that her audience isn’t paying attention. “What are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m just about to check my e-mail,” I reply. I make a big production of opening my e-mail in a new window. “Oh, look. A kiss.”
“What?” Sienna asks. She scoots over to look at my screen.
I launch my e-kiss. “Aww . . . look at that, Sea. Isn’t it so cute? You see? The big kiss is thinking about the little kiss in the thought bubble. And there’s a message: ‘I’m thinking about you all the time.’ Oh!” I place my hand over my heart and wink really hard, trying to squeeze out a tear or two of joy. But I’ve got nothing. I should really practice this stuff at home first.
My Fake Boyfriend is Better Than Yours Page 3