Art Geeks and Prom Queens (10 page)

And with all of my might I think:
Look up! Look up! Look at me!

But nothing happens.

So after sitting there for a while, straining to be noticed, I give up and go over to the wall where my smock is hanging. And when I’m all wrapped and tied and completely covered up, Mason comes rushing through the door yelling, “Sorry I’m late!” Then she sits next to me and throws her bag down all dramatic. And that’s when Jas decides to look up and smile at both of us.

Oh,
now
he sees me. Now that I’m all covered up in this paint-splattered nun’s habit.

I give up.

Really.

It’s so not worth it.

So I turn to Mason and say, “Zane seems really nice.” And I smile. Because I’d really like to get to know her better, I think we have a lot in common.

“Really? You think
so?
” she says in a sarcastic tone that I can’t really figure out.

“Well, yeah,” I say, nodding and smiling like a bobblehead.

“Well, that’s nice. ‘Cause we broke up.” She looks away and her eyes get all teary.

And as I watch her get up and go over to her easel, I wonder why I can never seem to say the right thing to her. But the truth is, if I’d been paying attention I would have noticed that she looked upset, and that her eyes were all red like she’d been crying. But
no,
I was too busy thinking about
me
in my Burberry miniskirt. Pathetic.

So I turn to Jas and say, “I guess I kind of blew that, huh?”

And he looks at me briefly and shrugs. “You didn’t know.” Then he looks down again.

“Well, Momque seemed really nice. Or did you break up, too?” I ask, followed by ridiculous nervous laughter.
Way to go, Rio.

Jas stops sketching and looks at me, but there’s something different in his eyes this time, and I don’t know what it means. Then he says, “No, we didn’t break up, we’re still together.”

Well, I know what
that
means. So I grab my bag, and walk casually into the darkroom. And once the door is firmly closed behind me, I sink down to the floor and sit there with my head in my hands, wondering if you can actually die of humiliation.

Oh, god, did I really believe that wearing a three-hundred-dollar skirt would change my life? Because all it really did was make me a well-dressed geek. I mean, let’s face it, a change of clothes cannot erase that humiliating “date” with Jas, or the stupid thing I just said to Mason. It’s like underneath the Burberry, I’m still the same stupid dork. Or more like, the same stupid
friendless
dork! Since there’s no way I can hang with Jas now—not after Saturday night. And Mason, well, I really doubt she’ll miss all my stupid comments.

So where does that leave me? I mean, I tried being all friendly with Kristi, and while she was nice, she obviously doesn’t hang with retards like me. God, I’m on my second week of school, and it may as well be the first day. I haven’t made any progress.

After Art we have a ten-minute break, so I go back to my locker and spin the dial because I have nowhere else to go and it gives me something to do between classes.

When I swing the door open I find this piece of notebook paper that’s been folded over and over, like a million times, into a tight little triangle and it has my name written on it in big letters with a smiley face over the i and big round flower petals around the
o.
And even though it doesn’t look scary from the outside, I’m still a little nervous when I open it since I know it’s not from Mason or Jas, and the only other person it could be from is Kristi, and I’m not even sure if she likes me.

But when it’s completely open I read:

Hi Rio
We eat lunch @ the table under the big tree if U
want 2 sit with us!

Kristi!

Her
i
’s are dotted with hearts.

At lunch I walk right past the field where I used to eat with Jas and Mason and head for the table with the big tree. But the truth is there’s
like a bunch of trees, and they’re all pretty much the same size, so then I start wondering if Kristi’s playing some kind of messed-up game. You know, like some hateful cheerleader version of
Punk’d.
Because sometimes popular kids do things like that. Well, at least the ones you see in movies.

But then I hear someone yell, “Hey, Brazil, over here!” And I see Kristi smiling and waving. And I feel totally relieved that the invite was legit.

“You guys, this is Rio,” she says. “Rio, this is Kayla.” She points to the girl in a shrunken, pink corduroy blazer with brown eyes and blond streaks. “And this is Jennifer, but we call her Jen Jen.” She nods at the redhead across from her wearing a leopard-print cardigan.

“Hey,” I say, smiling nervously and sitting next to Kristi.

“Rio’s in my English class. And, you guys, she showed up like way late on the first day and I thought Mrs. Abbott was gonna
bust!
”

Everybody starts laughing, but probably not because it’s funny, but because Kristi is the boss.

“Mrs. Abbott? Gag. Isn’t she the lamest?” Kayla says, rolling her eyes.

“Totally.” I nod, even though I don’t really think she’s all that lame. But if I’m gonna hang with the cool kids, I’ve got to be agreeable. As well as stop making fun of them in my head.

As well as stop using phrases like “cool kids.”

“So what’s with your name being Rio?” Jen Jen asks.

“Jen!” Kristi says, giving her a look. And then to me, “Ignore her, she is
so rude!
”

“Well, excuse me, but it’s not like it’s
normal,
” Jen Jen says in her own defense. “I mean, were you like,
born
there or something?” She makes a face as she bites into her apple.

“No. It’s, it’s just after a song my mom liked back in the eighties,” I say, wishing for the millionth time I had a middle name I could fall back on.

“Oh, my god, that is
so cool.
Your mom must be really cool!” Kayla says, looking at me in awe.

I think about my mom and just shrug.

“I’m serious. My mom was like
born
listening to old lady music.” She rolls her eyes.

Kristi nods. “If my mom named me after one of her favorite songs from the eighties you’d all be eating lunch with ‘Funky Town’ right now!”

“Oh, my god, remember how our moms used to blast that while they did step-aerobics when we were little?” Jen Jen says, running her fingers through her long red hair and taking a sip of her Diet Coke.

“Ew!” Kristi shivers. “That was
so
embarrassing!”

Everyone cracks up, including me. And it’s not as fake as you’d think.

“So is your mom like a famous model or what?” Kristi asks, and everyone goes silent waiting for the answer.

“Well, she’s not, like,
famous.
I mean, not anymore.” I nervously tear off a piece of my sandwich. “She used to model in magazines and stuff, but that was a long time ago, before I was even born.”

“But didn’t she take part in a
Vogue
retrospective?” Jen Jen asks.

“What?” I look at all of them.
How could they possibly know about that?

“We Googled your family,” Kristi says. “Apparently your dad’s really famous, too.”

“He’s a lawyer,” I say. “Sometimes he does commentary on Larry King or Court TV or something.”

They GOGGLED me????

“But we read that he’s the one that represented that old guy actor who butchered his wife,” Kayla says.

“And he
was
innocent,” I say, sounding all defensive.
God, this is getting really weird.

“So what are you doing after school?” Kayla asks.

“Um, I don’t know. Homework I guess.” I cover my mouth with my hand since I just took a bite of my sandwich.

“Detention’s over, I take it?” Kristi says, tapping her French-manicured finger against her Diet Coke can and eyeing me closely.

I just nod, because I’m swallowing.

“Well, we’re going to the mall and you totally have to come with us,” Jen Jen says.

“Oh, okay,” I say, finishing my sandwich.

“Cool. Well, we have to go to the gym to set up for the pep rally, but meet us in the parking lot after school,” Kayla says, getting up from the table.

“It’ll be totally fun.” Jen Jen smiles.

“I can’t believe you ate that entire sandwich,” Kristi says, shaking her head as she walks away.

So instead of going to the usual malls, we went to the Lab, which is like this alternative mall in Costa Mesa, that’s also called the anti-mall. And we’re in this record store because Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen want me to show them the CD with the song that I’m named after. It makes me feel totally lame, but I don’t want to seem like a bitch, so I find it and hand it to them and then they flirt with the guy who works there and make him play it.

(It’s worth noting that while the alterna girl who also works there is rolling her eyes at us,
the guy
can’t stop smiling. And he turns all red, and he gets all nervous, and his hands are all shaky, as he takes off the hip alterna CD they had playing, and replaces it with the Duran Duran
Rio
CD, track one. Which just goes to prove my earlier point about prom queens and how even the cool, smart guys get sucked in. So if I need to later, I will refer to this moment as Exhibit C.)

By the second chorus they know most of the words, since it mostly just repeats itself.

So they’re singing really loud, and it’s kind of embarrassing, so I walk out of the store, and across the way to Urban Outfitters. And it makes me kind of excited to see something familiar since we have that store in New York, too. But then I remember that Mason works here, and I start to leave because I’m not supercomfortable running into her, but she sees me, and goes, “Hey, Rio.”

So I go over to the register where she’s ringing someone up and I go, “Hey, cool coat.” She has on this incredible little leopard jacket, which has like three-quarter-length sleeves, and this one big red rhinestone button at the top where the collar part is. I mean, it’s
amazing
and I’ve never seen her wear it before.

“Thanks,” she says. And when her customer leaves she goes, “What happened to you at lunch?”

“Oh, I, I ate somewhere else,” I say, avoiding her eyes.

“Why?”

“Well, I felt kind of bad, saying that about Zane.”

“What? ‘Cause you said he was nice?”

I shrug.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. We talked a little while ago and we’re gonna try to work it out. It’s just really hard with him living in L.A. and stuff.” She bites down on her lip and hesitates like she’s about to say more but then she just goes, “So I heard you met Monique.” She eyes me closely.

“Yeah, and she’s
really
nice!” I say, with a big fake smile to match my big fake statement.

“You think?” She looks skeptical.

“Totally,” I say, nodding vigorously. Again, bobblehead.

“That’s weird.”

“Why?” I ask, picking up a rhinestone ring and slipping it on my finger.

“Well, it kind of seems like you like Jas.” She’s looking right at me.

“I don’t like Jas! Why would you think I like Jas?” I ask frantically. Oh, god, my father would not approve of my defense-litigation technique.

“Sorry.” She shrugs. “My wrong.” She starts scooping up a pile of receipts, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

And of course I just can’t let it go. “Why?” I ask. “Does Jas think I like him? I mean, did he say something to you? What did he say?” I’m clearly out of control, but I just can’t stop.

Then the second she starts to answer, Kristi yells, “Brazil! I can’t believe you walked out on us while we were totally serenading you!”

I turn to see my three new friends standing in the doorway.

“Um, I should go,” I say, slipping off the ring and dropping it back in the little ceramic bowl by the register.

“Yeah, I guess you should,” Mason says, raising an eyebrow at them.

I catch up with Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen in this outside courtyard, which is also called the “Living Room,” and they’re all standing there, hands on hips, totally glaring at me.
Jeez, are they really this upset ‘cause I bailed on their little karaoke session?