Art Geeks and Prom Queens (26 page)

BOOK: Art Geeks and Prom Queens
6.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Now they don’t talk to me because they do.

 

When I walk into Art my eyes are glued to the floor as I head for my table since I’m determined to avoid all contact with Jas after that totally humiliating moment on the street. I can’t even imagine what I would say to him at this point anyway. He’s probably totally disgusted by me, and wondering why we were ever friends in the first place. And that’s assuming he thinks of me at all.

Thank god, Ms. Tate has another slide show planned. So when she turns out the lights and starts talking about Impressionism, I lay my head on the desk and close my eyes until the bell rings.

 

By lunch I’ve decided that despite the fact that everyone seems to be avoiding me, I’m still going to eat lunch with my friends. What happened is just between Kristi and me. I mean, Kayla and Jen Jen weren’t even there when Kristi and I fought, so it’s not like they can be mad at me, too.

So with lunch bag in hand, I smile and make my approach. And just as I’m about to slide onto the end of the bench, everyone (without even looking at me!) spreads out so quickly, I end up on the ground.

I’m sitting there, flat on my ass, but they just continue laughing and joking like I’m not even there. So I get up, brush myself off, clear my throat, and go, “Hey, you guys.”

But they just keep on like that, acting like I don’t exist. And it’s not like I can force them to see me, so I look over at the senior tables and since Tyler’s not there, I decide to sit with them. I mean, I’m still good friends with everyone else.

But when I get there one of the girls looks at me and goes, “Sorry, no sluts allowed.” And everyone busts out laughing.

“Excuse me?” I say My breath feels panicked and cold in my throat.

“This table has a strict no-sluts policy,” she says, staring me down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I stand there hoping no one can see how bad I’m shaking.

“It means you go out with the two hottest, sweetest guys in school and you cheat on both of them. Everyone knows you slept with Drew.” She shakes her head, and gives me a nasty look.

“You have no idea what really happened,” I say.

“Everyone saw you with half your clothes shoved in your purse.” She looks across the table and points. “Marc was there, you were doing it right in front of him!”

“That’s not true!” I look at Marc, but he just sits there and shrugs. Then I remember how he saw me flirting with Drew and kissing him. And how he left before the bad stuff happened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say. But I’m losing steam, because now I see it how they see it, and it’s not pretty.

“Everybody’s sick of you walking around like some big celebrity, tossing your long blond hair, and telling all the guys you’re a virgin. What a joke.” She gives me a hateful look. “Why don’t you go back where you came from, skank?”

I just stand there, speechless and humiliated.

“You can go now,” she says.

So I do. And as I’m walking away people start pointing and laughing, and someone throws something at my head. It hits me, but I just keep walking.

 

When I go inside the library a few people look up, but only briefly, and it’s kind of nice to be in a place where no one actually knows me, because the fact is there isn’t one person I used to hang with that would risk being seen in here during lunch because at this time of day the library is strictly geek territory.

I walk toward a table in the very back, throw my bag on the floor, flop onto this hardwood chair, and lean forward, pressing my forehead against the cool wood table. I stay like this for a long time, telling myself everything’s gonna be okay, even though it’s pretty obvious that it’s not.

And then someone goes, “Rio?”

I don’t want to look up. But I know if I don’t they’ll say it again, only louder. So I slowly raise my head until I see Mason standing there, wearing some cool, vintage fake-fur capelet, with a rhinestone pin fastened at the top. Her arms are loaded down with books and papers.

“Hey,” I say.

“Are you okay?” She looks concerned.

I sit up straighter and yawn like I was just sleepy or something, and go, “Yeah, I was just napping. What’s up?”

“I was just doing a little research,” she says, sitting on the chair across from me and placing her stuff on the table. I glance at the titles quickly and notice most of them are art books.

“I heard you opted out of the exhibit,” she says.

“Yeah, I’ve just got so much other stuff going on.” I run my index finger along the wood gram, unwilling to meet her gaze.

“That’s too bad. Your stuff was really good.”

I can feel her looking at me, but I don’t want to talk about art anymore. So I go, “How’s Zane?”

“We broke up. For real this time.”

Okay, so why is it that I only seem to experience deja vu on the most uncomfortable moments of my life, and never the good ones? “Sorry,” I say.

She shrugs. “It’s okay. He’s a really cool guy and we’re still friends, but the distance got to be too much, and he’s in college now so he should be free to experience that. And it’s not like we were gonna get married or anything, so, it’s just better this way.”

“But you guys seemed really good together,” I say, feeling kind of depressed that they couldni make it work.

“Yeah well, things change. You know that.”

I sit there for a moment, not really knowing what else to say, then I glance at her stuff. “What’s that?” I ask, pointing to a stack of papers.

“The ‘zine. Want one?”

“Sure.”

“It’s our last one on paper,” she says, handing me a copy. “Next month, we’ll be online. Well, I’m gonna get to class a little early. See you around.” She picks up her books and heads for the door.

I look at my watch. I still have some time ‘til the bell rings, so I pick up the ‘zine and stare at the picture on the front. It’s a take on Edvard Munch’s most famous painting,
The Scream.
Only this one’s more modern and it depicts girls instead of boys, and school lockers instead of a river in Oslo. In the foreground there’s this ordinary girl holding her hands up to her ears, and her eyes are closed and her mouth is wide-open because she’s screaming. And she looks like she’s in so much pain
that you wonder what happened. But then you notice the two girls in the background and they’re pointing at her and laughing, so you can kind of figure it out. I mean, it reminds me of me, twenty minutes ago.

The picture is so amazing that I just sit there staring at it. Then I notice the signature in the bottom right-hand corner, it’s Mason’s.

I think about how Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen are always making fun of her clothes, and calling her a lesbo and stuff. And even though I didn’t always join in, I usually did nothing to stop it. I guess I always thought of Mason as being such a strong, independent person, that it never occurred to me she might actually be hurt by stuff like that. But by the looks of this picture, I guess she is. And now that it’s happening to me, I feel even worse about doing nothing to help her.

On the next page there’s an article she wrote titled, “R U Guilty?” And it’s all about how girls torture one another with gossip and rumors and stuff. It’s like the word version of her cover art.

When the bell rings a few minutes later, I ignore it. I just sit there reading until I’m finished.

 

After school I call my mom and ask her to pick me up. And when she meets me out front by the office she goes, “What’s going on, Rio?”

And I go, “Nothing, okay? Jeez.” Then I roll my eyes and slump way down in my seat, wishing she’d just leave me alone.

“Well, something’s going on. Because this morning I had to drive you to school, and now I was in the middle of redoing the living room when you called. Did you and Tyler have a fight?” She looks at me, face full of alarm.

“No, we didn’t have a fight,” I say, looking out the window so I won’t have to look at her. But it’s not really a lie, since Tyler and I haven’t even spoken, much less had a fight.

“Well, good,” she says, clearly relieved. “Because you’ve got those four beautiful new dresses for the Moondance next weekend, and we’ll need to narrow it down in the next couple days so we can decide what to do with your hair and makeup!”

She says that like it’s
sooo
important. But I guess in her mind it is.

“And Rio, I’m going to be really booked for the rest of the week, trying
to finish up the house, and get myself in shape for the photo shoot. So you need to make arrangements with your friends to get to and from school. Because this is the last day I’ll have time to do this for you.”

I just nod and continue looking out the window.

 

The first thing I do when I go in my room is throw my backpack onto my bed. The second thing I do is check my e-mail. But there’s nothing. Not even from Paige.

Determined to handle this before it gets any worse, I message Kayla and Jen Jen. And even though I can see they’re online they won’t respond. So I pick up the phone and call. And when Jen Jen finally answers I go, “Hey, what’s up?” As though everything was perfectly normal.

“Oh, hey, Rio,” she says, sounding normal, too.

“Um, are you guys mad at me?” I ask, my voice betraying my nervousness.

“What are you talking about?” she says innocently.

“Well, like, you guys never called me all weekend, and then you totally ignored me, and pushed me off the bench at lunch!” My face feels hot and my hands are all sweaty.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says.

“Jen, I’m serious, you know you did that. And I just don’t get it because even though Kristi’s mad at me, that doesn’t mean you guys should be. I mean, it’s between me and her.”

“You’re totally delusional.” She laughs. “Why would Kristi be mad at you?”

“She said some pretty harsh things when I was leaving the party.”

“She was probably drunk.”

“Well, yeah, I guess she was drinking and stuff. But still, she seemed pretty serious. And then today in English she sat all the way across the room.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure it will blow over, and you guys will be friends again.”

“Well, I’m not really sure that’s what I want,” I say.

“What are you talking about?”

“Did she say anything to you? About what happened?” I ask, trying to get a feel for what she knows, because I know she knows something.

“Rio, I really don’t want to get in the middle of this, okay?”

“What’d she say?”

“Okay, fine,” she sighs. “Kristi’s feeling pretty hurt because you hooked up with Drew.”

“I did
not
hook up with Drew, she hooked up with Tyler!”

“I’m just telling you what she said.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m making it up, Jen. There were plenty of people who saw the same thing.”

“Well, that’s not what I heard.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Rio, everyone’s saying you were totally trying to hook up with Drew, and that the only reason Kristi kissed Tyler is to get back at you.”

“That’s not how it happened! That’s totally backward!” I’m so upset I’m shaking. “Kristi and Tyler hooked up, and then Drew totally attacked me!”

“He attacked you?” She says, voice full of disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Drew?”

“Yes,
I’m not making this up! God, I even kicked him in the balls to get him to stop!”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“Well who are you going to believe?” I ask, barely controlling my anger.

“Listen, Rio, you’re taking everything way too seriously. It was just a stupid game, and you’re getting all bent over nothing.”

I just sit there, holding the phone, not sure what to say. Because I know I’m not imagining this, and I know I’m not crazy.

“Listen, I gotta go. See you tomorrow?”

“Okay.” And then feeling like a needy loser, I go, “Um, do you think you can give me a ride?”

“Sure,” she says. “But I’ll be there early because cheerleading try-outs are starting and we’re having a meeting.”

Then before I can say anything else, she hangs up.

Thirty-seven

The next morning I’ve been sitting in the kitchen for more than an hour, drinking coffee and waiting for Jen Jen to come pick me up, and I’m getting kind of anxious since she still isn’t here.

Other books

The Trap by John Smelcer
Back in the Hood by Treasure Hernandez
MC: LaPonte by L. Ann Marie
Persuasion by Martina Boone
Doctored by Sandeep Jauhar
The Jewel and the Key by Louise Spiegler
The Outcast by Michael Walters
La hora de los sensatos by Leopoldo Abadía