Game On (6 page)

“Exactly,” Cleo said. “She used you just to use you.”

Maya's face was suddenly hot. And it wasn't from the steam.

“She set you up with absolutely no care in the world about what it would do to you,” Cleo continued. “And while you were getting kicked out, you know what she was doing? Sleeping like a baby.”

Maya was getting even more heated.

“Your idol, Nicole King, stopped thinking about you the minute you were out of sight,” Cleo said. “You weren't even worth a second thought. How does that feel?”

Almost despite herself, Maya's thumb flinched. It was just enough to press the send button. In a flash, the photo went out into the universe. In an even faster flash, Maya immediately regretted it.

“Oh my God,” Maya said.

“Oh my God,” Cleo repeated.

Maya stared at the phone in her hand, her thoughts racing. What did she just do?

“Now what?” Maya asked in a panic.

Just then, the phone jumped in Maya's hand. The vibration of a call, combined with a ring. Texts started pouring in, one after the other.
Beep. Beep. Beep.

The cell storm was loud. So loud that the water in the shower immediately turned off.

Cleo smiled. “Now we run.”

They tossed Nicole's phone back in her bag and raced off as fast as their legs could carry them.

Maya and Cleo were at the Underground, a late-night campus hot spot filled with pool tables, leather couches, and a bar that served everything but alcohol (which just turned half the kids
there into smugglers). Neither Maya nor Cleo was dying to go out, but Nicole's Twitpic had spread like wildfire, and Cleo thought it was best they hide in plain sight. Guilty people wouldn't go out in public, right?

“Everyone's staring at us,” Maya said at the bar, sipping her Coke.

“You always think people are staring at you,” Cleo said. It was amazing how quickly Cleo had gotten to know Maya, and how accurately.

“This morning was a warning,” Maya said. “That's what Nails Reed told me. If anyone finds out I sent that picture …”

Cleo shushed her.

“If anyone found out,” Maya said in a tone so hushed even she herself could barely hear it, “I'll be done. Gone. Everyone is talking about this. Even the teachers, the coaches …”

“That was the point,” Cleo said. “It was supposed to be a big pie in the face. And she had it coming.”

Suddenly, something changed. The air in the room took on a static charge. People shifted. Maya and Cleo looked at each other. They had felt this once before.

Nicole walked in.

“Oh God,” Maya said.

“Wipe that look off your face this second,” Cleo said. “You might as well spray-paint
guilty
across your forehead.”

Maya altered her face. She altered it again. She couldn't get it to feel natural.

Cleo looked at her blankly. “Now you just look crazy.”

Maya studied Nicole as she made her way through the crowd. You'd never think she'd suffered a split end, much less
total and utter humiliation. She was, in fact, quite calm. She was cool. She was … coming their way?

Maya looked to Cleo, sat bolt upright, and sucked on that straw like it was her job.

“Just relax,” Cleo warned her. “If you say or do something to implicate us, I'm giving you up, I swear.”

“I'm a terrible liar,” Maya said. “My face is full of tells. I can't think up anything on the spot. … My face is twitching. Can you see it? It's totally twitching.”

“Maya! Get a hold of yourself!” Cleo said without moving her lips.

Finally, Nicole reached them. Maya had sucked down an entire Coke in five seconds, but her mouth was still bone-dry.

“Iced tea,” Nicole said.

Maya allowed herself to relax. Nicole wasn't beelining to them, she was beelining to the bar.

“If you want to pull pranks on people,” Nicole said, lazily pouring sugar into her iced tea without so much as turning around, “you should probably do it somewhere without so many mirrors. Or learn to run faster.”

Maya choked on her ice cube. Finally, the dam that was her mouth burst.

“I am so sorry,” Maya said. “That was just … awful, and I'm awful, and if I could take it back I would, in a second, in half a second!” Maya was coming apart at the seams.

“You know,” Cleo said to Nicole. “You were the one who scammed Maya and got her kicked out.”

Maya didn't want to incite Nicole, even if it was with the truth.

“Yeah, but I got un-kicked out, so no harm, no foul. Please don't rat me out,” Maya begged. “I'll be bounced for good.”

For the first time, Nicole King turned around. Her expression revealed nothing. And that terrified Maya. If Maya's face was full of tells, Nicole's was as illegible as they came.

Finally, Nicole spoke. “You're right. I had it coming.”

Maya was stopped. “What?”

“It was a crappy thing I did,” Nicole said as her expression lost all severity. “I didn't think of how it would affect you, and I'm sorry. So, we're even.”

“Actually,” Cleo pointed out, “technically Maya's one up on you thanks to the whole car thing.”

Maya elbowed Cleo. Hard.

“Thank you,” Maya told Nicole. She was overcome with an inexplicable urge to curtsy. She thought better of it.

“I'll just tell everyone I posted that pic myself,” Nicole said. “I did it on purpose to …” She thought for a moment, but just a moment. “To inspire people to embrace their flaws.”

That was brilliant, Maya thought.

“Of course,” Nicole continued, “if either of you tell anyone you did it, I'm going to look like a big liar, so you can't say anything. To anyone.”

“No, no, of course not,” Maya agreed enthusiastically. “You got it, we won't tell a soul.”

Not only had she evaded retribution, she might have even turned a corner with Nicole. Maya shared a secret with her idol. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

“Besides,” Nicole said, “I don't want to be known as the girl who got a couple of scholarship kids kicked out.”

With that, Nicole walked off.

Cleo rolled her eyes. “Please,” she said the minute Nicole was out of earshot. “She wasn't being nice; she just doesn't want anyone to know she got punked. And by lowly scholarship kids! This was a PR move, nothing more. She's good. But whatever, we're not getting in trouble. That's all that matters.”

For Maya, it wasn't all that mattered. She was left even more depressed than if Nicole
had
ratted them out. Because this proved she was an even bigger nothing at the Academy than she'd thought. To Nicole and to everyone.

Maya sat on the quad feeling sorry for herself. Cleo was running late, so she had plenty of time to wallow in her own suckitude.

Maya wasn't an idiot. She didn't think coming to the Academy would be a big slumber party where everyone would stay up late doing one another's hair and putting one another's underwear in the freezer (at least that was what she'd heard happened at slumber parties—she'd never actually been to one). She didn't expect to feel so alone, though.

She had Cleo, and thank God for that. But that didn't make her feel any more like she belonged. Of course, that was not what she'd told her mother on the phone that morning. The sun never shined brighter and the air never smelled sweeter if you believed what Maya had spewed to her. If Maya couldn't manage her own emotions, at least she could manage her mother's.

Just then, on the grass in front of her, Maya saw something truly bizarre. It was a blond Glamazon poking around the grass like a flamingo. Upon closer inspection, Maya saw that it wasn't just any blond Glamazon. It was Nicole King's roommate! In Maya's near-pathological attempt to learn everything about her idol's life on campus, she'd discovered that Nicole didn't live alone. There were a couple of girls who had the money, power, and looks to be worthy of sharing a private on-campus villa with her. Renee Ledecq was one of those girls.

Maya figured out that Renee was painstakingly searching for a lost contact. Turns out no amount of money, power, or looks could save you when you were blind. Maya studied her, but, thanks to Cleo, she was already an expert about this girl she'd never met.

She knew Renee was aloof and unapproachable. She was part French, part South African, and 100 percent filthy rich. Unlike Nicole, who at least earned her money, Renee got hers completely from her parents. Her father was an ambassador (to what country, Cleo had no idea, much less what an ambassador actually did), and her mother was a socialite (which Cleo had assumed was code for a raging alcoholic with money).

According to Cleo, Renee was also perhaps the most hated girl on campus. Not because she always had the nicest stuff (though that didn't help), nor was it because she vapidly threw her money at anything and everything (again, not a plus). What made her a legend among the girls was that she was a legend among the guys. Renee always had a guy on each arm, and it was never the same one twice. Word around the Academy was that she was the easiest score on campus.

As Maya continued watching Renee, Renee turned from a flamingo into a dog, sniffing around on her hands and knees. And getting more panicked. What started out as entertaining morphed into downright painful to watch.

“Do you need some help?” Maya dared to ask.

“Please,” Renee said. When Renee finally looked up, Maya could see why she was so desperate. Those perfect, big blue eyes of hers were actually colored lenses—and one was missing.

“I can't see a thing without my contacts,” she said. “If I can't find my other lens, I'll have no choice but to walk around with one in and look like a total freak, and I … I can't handle that.”

Although Maya didn't totally get the tragedy of it all, she felt Renee's anguish. So she sniffed around with Renee. Finally, Maya spotted a spec of blue among the green.

“Got it,” Maya said, picking it up carefully.

As Maya handed it over, the relief that came over Renee was palpable. She pulled out a bottle of contact solution, gave the lens a quick wash, and popped it back in her eye.

“I owe you one,” Renee said. A lot of owing went on at the Academy, Maya thought, but if there was one person you'd want owing you, it was Renee.

“What's your name?”

Maya was struck by the question. Not because it was an unnatural next step, but because it was the first time anyone had actually asked. Until now, she was the one who had had to offer it.

“Maya,” she said.

Renee smiled. “I love that name. I'm Renee.”

Maya marveled at her accent for the first time. It was
amazing. It was a combination of French, South African, and something else Maya couldn't place. The result was Renee speaking like no one she'd ever heard in her life, even on TV.

“Where are you from?” Renee asked.

That was also the first follow-up question Maya had received. Usually, whoever she was speaking to had taken off by then.

“Syracuse,” Maya replied. “It's in New York. The state, not the city.”

“I've never been. What's it like?” Renee asked.

This wasn't the girl Maya had heard so much about. This Renee asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in the answers. Was Maya the one getting punked now?

“Um, it's cool,” Maya said. Then she thought about it. “Actually, it's not cool. It snows thirteen months a year and the only thing to do on a Friday night is go to the supermarket. And people, like, look forward to it.”

Renee laughed. “You're a riot.”

“Oh,” Maya said, “if you think stories about working-class people are funny, you'll think I'm hilarious.” Maya was seeing just how far she could push it with Renee. Renee only laughed more. There was no judgment; she was simply entertained.

“You're new,” Renee said.

“Do I have a sign on me?” Maya wanted to fit in, not stand out. She feared what signals she was giving off.

“You're talking to me,” Renee said.

Maya wasn't sure what to think. “People must talk to you all the time,” she said.

“Guys,” Renee said. “Guys talk to me all the time. Girls
don't want any part of me. They think I'm stupid, or I'm going to steal their boyfriends, or buy their boyfriends—I don't know.”

By the look on her face, Maya could see that Renee really didn't know. And it seemed to bother her.

“Or they know I don't belong here,” Renee said finally.

“Why wouldn't you belong here?” Maya asked. She had just met this girl, but she already had this overwhelming sense of … something for her. It felt a lot like sympathy.

“Because my parents bought my way in,” Renee said. “They didn't want to deal with me at home, so they shipped me off.”

“From what I've been able to tell so far,” Maya said, “you're not the only one who paid your way in.”

“Yeah, but the difference is I suck,” she said.

“I'm sure you don't suck,” Maya said.

“No, I suck,” Renee maintained. It wasn't in a self-deprecating way. She was just being … honest. “I'm a swimmer. Quote unquote. It's a wonder I don't drown the minute I dive in.”

Maya couldn't even imagine being here in the middle of all this hypercompetition and not be any good. It must've been like being invisible.

“I don't want to suck,” Renee continued. “I want to be great. Maybe then my parents will want me around.”

Maya felt guilty. More than guilty. She had bought into what she'd heard about Renee and had written her off because of it. But Renee wasn't aloof or unapproachable at all. She was beyond nice, and beyond open. Maybe she was just too
intimidating to strike up a conversation with. Or maybe people here just didn't care about conversation at all. Regardless, Maya had believed what she was told again, and again it wasn't true. She vowed that was the last time she would make that mistake.