Something True (2 page)

“Better safe than sorry.”

My father grinned from ear to ear. “That’s my girl.”

CHAPTER TWO

Orion

I hate waking up and not knowing where the hell I am. Not that it happens to me often. Actually, no. That’s a lie. It does happen to me a lot. Sometimes even when I’m in my own room. I wake up and everything feels wrong, like I don’t belong there. Which is weird, because it’s my room. Then a second later it passes and everything is fine.

But this morning I wasn’t in my room. And what was really disturbing was, I was staring at a pair of feet. Guys’ feet, with a big toe half sticking out of a hole in a ratty white sock.

“Greg! Gregory Howell, did you pass out playing video games again?”

I sat up straight. A door creaked open and then footsteps pounded down the stairs. My buddy Greg groaned and scratched his armpit. We had both sacked out on top of wool sleeping bags in his basement and yes, in fact, the Call of Duty home screen was up on his TV.

“I knew it.”

Greg’s father, a youngish dad with shaggy black hair and a serious jones for plaid flannel, stood with one foot on the floor and one on the third stair. The man was tall, like six foot four, but was still an inch shorter than Greg. He ran Howell’s Farm, the huge stretch of land that Greg lived on, and took it beyond seriously. Right then he had a stern look on his face.

“Morning, Orion,” he said to me.

“Hey, Mr. Howell.” I got up, found my kicks, and shoved my feet into them.

“Dad?” Greg was still coming to. One eye was squinted as the other one looked around, confused.

“Greg, I need you to wake up and get your butt over to Goddess Cupcakes,” his dad said. “They have the guest booth at the market today, and their van broke down. I need you to help them load up the truck and bring back whoever’s gonna be working the stand. Got it?”

While Greg’s dad was giving this speech, Greg had already gotten up, pulled a sweatshirt on over his wrinkled T-shirt, and started lacing up his work boots. Meanwhile, I felt weirdly alert. Goddess Cupcakes. That was where True Olympia worked.

“Got it,” Greg said.

When the door slammed, I sat down next to Greg on the old, itchy couch where we’d spent three hours playing video games last night.

“Dude, I’m so coming with you.” I reached for my varsity football jacket. It was still pretty new, since I’d just moved to Lake Carmody a couple of weeks ago, and the sleeves squeaked when I put it on. I couldn’t wait until it was broken in, soft and stained. Then I’d really feel like part of the team.

“What’re you so excited about?” Greg asked, grabbing a hat and pulling it low over his dark hair.

“Cupcakes for breakfast?” I semi-lied. “Are you kidding?”

We stepped over empty bags of chips and soda cans on our way toward the stairs, Greg shaking his head.

“I think you’re the first person I’ve ever met who eats more than I do,” he said.

I raised my palms. “Football players need carbs.”

Greg laughed and I couldn’t stop smiling, but not because of my joke. I was just psyched, hoping True might be there. I mean, I had a girlfriend. An awesome girlfriend. But True was fun to flirt with. There was something about her that just intrigued me.

Maybe it was the fact that the first time I’d ever laid eyes on her, she’d already laid her lips on me. It was a case of mistaken identity in the end, but a kiss from her wasn’t the worst way to start my first day at my new school.

Greg grabbed a set of keys off the hook near the door. His mom was in the kitchen, with a huge breakfast of pancakes, sausage, eggs, and hash browns laid out. Greg’s little brother, Billy, and a couple of the guys who worked the farm were sitting there, chowing down. My stomach grumbled.

“You kids want anything before you go?” Greg’s mom asked with a smile. She was always smiling. Which was one of the reasons I liked hanging out at Greg’s. Most of my friends were on the football team, and they lived in these big houses closer to town with parents who were either never around—like mine—or always seemed stressed out. I’d met Greg when I joined yearbook as a writer, and we’d gotten to talking and sort of hit it off. I liked that his family was old-school and his house was like something out of a black-and-white movie. There was something about it that was comforting and familiar. Which made no sense, since my house was totally modern.

“Maybe a couple for the road,” Greg said, kissing his mother’s cheek.

He snagged some pancakes and tossed me one, then took a few sausages as well.

“Heathen,” his mom joked. “At least take some napkins.”

“Thanks, Mrs. H!” I said, reaching over Billy’s back for the napkin holder.

“See you later, Orion! Tell your mother I said hi!”

I gave her a wave and we headed outside. After I shoved the whole pancake in my mouth, I checked my phone. There were ten new texts from Darla Shayne, my girlfriend, starting late last night. I must not have heard the alerts, because we’d jacked up the volume on the game. We’d won our football game yesterday afternoon, and afterward I’d asked her to homecoming. (She said yes.) Then last night she’d wanted me to come over and hang out, but I’d already told Greg I’d hang with him. Darla had been really disappointed, so I already felt guilty for ditching her, and now I felt even guiltier for ignoring her.

CAN’T WAIT FOR HOMECOMING!

DID YOU GET A TUX YET?

WHERE ARE YOU? CALLING UR HOUSE.

UR MOM SAYS YOU’RE STILL AT GREG’S. CALLING UR CELL.

Yep, sure enough, there was a missed call.

GOING TO BED. WHERE R U??? CALL ME IN THE AM.

Apparently, being an attentive boyfriend was not one of my special talents. I hit the call-back button as Greg led me over to a big blue pickup and got in. I put the phone against my shoulder and reached for the handle on the other door. It squealed like a pig when I opened it.

“Guess I should oil that one,” Greg said with a laugh.

“Orion!” Darla answered the phone as I slid onto the old vinyl bench seat of the truck. “I thought you were dead.”

I laughed. Darla was dramatic like that. It was one of the things I liked about her. Everything was a huge deal with her. It made life exciting.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear my phone,” I told her. “What are you doing today?”

“Working! I have a shift at ten.”

She sounded excited about it. Which she probably was. She loved helping people pick out clothes at the shop where she worked downtown. She also loved to get out of her house. She lived alone with her mom, this high-powered motivational speaker who was always traveling to give speeches to companies. Most people would love having that big house to themselves, with a housekeeper the only adult around, but Darla hated being alone.

“We’re headed into town to go to Goddess. Do you want to meet me and grab coffee or something?”

I slammed the door, and the engine rumbled to life.

“Sure!” she said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Cool.”

I ended the call and sat back for the seriously bouncy ride in Greg’s dad’s truck, taking a bite of my sausage link. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, the leaves were turning all kinds of awesome colors, and I was on my way to maybe see True and then meet my gorgeous girl and have cupcakes for breakfast.

Sometimes it was almost unreal how good it was to be me.

CHAPTER THREE

Darla

“I’m so excited. You must be
so
excited!”

I held my phone to my ear as I maneuvered my white BMW convertible into a space near the center of town. I know, totally illegal, but sometimes you can’t just hang up the phone, and this was one of those times. We were talking about homecoming court. I mean, come on.

“I know. I can’t wait. Do you really think I have a chance?”

Mariah Gatewood’s sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line almost startled me into rear-ending the car in front of mine. I hit the brakes, closed my eyes, and silently counted to ten.

“Of course you have a chance!” Mariah gushed. “Who else could it be?”

I put the car in park. “Well, we know Veronica’s gonna get it.”

“Of course.”

“Of course.”

Veronica Vine was my best friend and the most popular girl in the junior class, if not in the whole school. She had been on homecoming court every year, and this was not the year there would be some random snafu that would leave her out. She and Josh Moskowitz were practically married, which did nothing but skyrocket her stock, and she’d gone up an entire cup size but down an entire dress size over the summer. Any boy with a pulse would vote for her.

I got out of the car, making sure to plant my stiletto boots firmly before standing, because I’d already splatted on my face in these shoes once, and I was pretty sure I’d die of embarrassment if it happened again.

“But there’s only one other spot for a junior, and there are tons of girls who could get it,” I told Mariah. “You could get it!”

“Um, please. No,” Mariah said. “But you’re Veronica’s BFF. And now that you’ve got Orion you’re, like, a lock.”

Okay. That stung. Because clearly she thought that without Orion I wouldn’t have a chance. Which was true, but she didn’t have to say it.

Still, I took a deep breath and let it go. My mother always said it was better to let the little things go, and she made a seriously awesome living giving inspirational speeches from coast to coast, so this was a mantra I tried to live by. I mean, I knew Mariah was right, so why bother snapping at her about it? There were certain things a person needed to do to be considered popular. I knew this better than anyone. And ever since the first time Trevor McKay had called me Darbot the Geek back in seventh grade when I still had my back brace and retainer and glasses, I had been working my butt off to get where I was.

It was the reason I had learned to put in contacts, even though the very idea of touching my eye skeeved me out. It was the reason I had spent my entire eighth-grade year solidifying myself as Veronica’s publicly declared BFF and not just the girl who sometimes helped her out with her homework. It was the reason I had walked around my house for hours in these stupid heels until I could actually do it without looking like a deranged T. rex with a drug problem. And it was the reason I had locked down Orion on his first day at school before he could even look at anyone else. For years I’d been watching the popular kids, taking note of what it took to be noticed, to not be invisible. And now I wasn’t invisible anymore. And if I could make it onto homecoming court, then everyone would know who I was. I’d be important. Finally, important.

“Thanks, Mariah.”

I walked around the back of my car, and my heel got caught in the seam between the brick lining of the sidewalk and the actual sidewalk. I steadied myself on the parking meter and looked around, but luckily, there weren’t that many people out. It was still kind of early for a Sunday.

“No problem. You’re so lucky he moved here.”

I swallowed back a bitter taste in my mouth just as my phone beeped. Call waiting. I looked at the screen.

“It’s Veronica,” I told her.

“Tell her I said hey!”

No arguments. That was how it was. When Veronica called, you took the call. It was just accepted fact. I clicked over.

“Hey, V!” I said, my fingers going to the diamond D pendant around my neck, a gift from Veronica for my sixteenth birthday. It was exactly like her V, but slightly smaller. She hadn’t given one to Mariah or our fourth, Kenna Roy, so it meant a lot to me.

“Hey, D! Listen, I wanted to tell you that I bought a new dress for homecoming, and it’s blue.”

I stopped halfway across the sidewalk. “What? But mine’s blue.”

“I’m sending you a pic right now.”

My phone beeped with a text. I opened the photo and just about died. The dress was not only the exact same shade of blue as mine, but it was almost the exact same cut. Except this one had more of a plunging neckline. With her hair curled into perfect tendrils and her lips shellacked in deep red, Veronica looked like she was walking the red carpet at the VMAs. I would kill to look that good, just once.

“I don’t get it,” I said into the phone, ducking into the shade under the pink-and-brown-striped awning of Goddess Cupcakes. “We shopped together. I thought you liked the red dress you bought.”

“Um, hello? When are you going to tell me how much you
love
the new one?” Veronica asked.

A harried-looking mom with a double stroller walked by me, and one of her mop-haired kids dropped his striped sock on the ground. I bent to retrieve it and jogged as best I could to catch up with her.

“Miss? Your son dropped this,” I called.

She stopped and looked at me with tired eyes. “Thank you!” she gushed. “He would’ve screamed the whole way home.”

I smiled at her and waved at the little guys as they took off again. One of them waved back. Too cute for words.

“Darla? Are you there?”

I flinched. I’d almost forgotten I was on the phone.

“No! I mean, yes. Sorry. The dress is awesome,” I said. “But aren’t you worried that we’re going to look . . . I don’t know . . . like matching bridesmaids or something?”

“Of course not. Because after school tomorrow we’re going shopping for
your
new dress.”

Suddenly I felt very, very hot. I turned around and pressed my forehead into the cool glass window of Goddess, my fingers gripping my phone so tightly they hurt. I loved my dress. Veronica knew I loved my dress. It made my waist look tiny and my legs look longer and the cap sleeves totally hid the fact that one of my shoulders was slightly higher than the other—something my back brace didn’t entirely fix.

I took a breath, choosing my words very carefully. “That’s really nice of you to offer, V,” I said. “But I like my dress. And it was on sale, so you know I can’t return it.”

“So you’ll wear it to prom,” Veronica said, like the conversation was over. “Or give it to your mom or something. It probably wouldn’t make
her
hips look huge.”

“It makes my hips look huge?” I asked, lifting my head.

“Well, when your waist is cinched that small, your hips naturally stand out by comparison.” Veronica was getting impatient. “Why are we still talking about this? Tomorrow we’ll go shopping and find you something even better, I promise. I gotta go. Mom’s trying to force-feed me an omelet, so I
must
go get her head examined.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Veronica was already gone. I gazed down at the picture of her again, feeling suddenly exhausted. She, of course, looked perfectly proportioned in her dress. I flicked through my photos to the one we’d taken of me in the dressing room when I’d decided on mine.

Oh my God. My hips
were
huge! How had I not noticed that before? I blanked the screen and shoved my phone back in my purse. There. Gone. I could obsess about that later. Right now I was late to meet my boyfriend.

Shaking my hair back from my face, I reached for the door handle, but froze. There, not five feet away inside the shop, was Orion, and he was talking to . . . no,
flirting with
True Olympia.

They were totally oblivious to me standing there. True laughed, tipping her head back to expose that long, swanlike neck, and Orion watched appreciatively, giving her a ravenous look that should have been reserved for me.

Everything inside me clenched. He was my boyfriend. Mine. I’d worked hard for this moment, for this relationship, the guy who finally proved to the world that I was the girl I’d always wanted to be. There was no way I was going to let that weirdo sweep in and ruin it for me.

Deep breath, Darla. Let it go. Deep breath. Let it go.

No. Not this time.

Homecoming court was going to be announced tomorrow. If Orion and I were nominated, there would be posters to make and campaigns to wage and speeches to write. I couldn’t have my boyfriend flirting with other girls. It would make me seem weak. Pathetic. Unworthy.

Then I remembered my second mantra—the one that my mother had nothing to do with. This one I’d come up with myself to get through moments just like these:

What would Veronica do?

I yanked open the door and strode across the tile floor toward Orion. True took one look at me and her face fell.

Don’t trip,
I thought.
Don’t trip, don’t trip.

“Hey, baby!” I trilled, throwing my arms around Orion’s neck. I did sort of trip at the last second, but it just made it look like I was really enthusiastic about the hug.

“Hey!” he replied.

I kissed him right on the lips, leaving no room for misinterpretation as I moved my hips against his and pressed my chest into his rough wool jacket.

“Miss me?” I asked.

“You know I did,” he replied, smoothing my hair behind my ear in that way that sent a shiver down my neck.

“Hi, True,” I said blithely, smiling at her expressionless face. “Can I get a coffee? Skim milk, two sweeteners?”

“Sure,” she said.

Then I turned and dragged Orion to the corner booth, where I sat half on his lap with my legs crooked over his. He couldn’t take his eyes or his hands off me. It was like there was no one else in the room.

“You ready to be my homecoming king?” I asked, cuddling against him.

Not that I ever thought I could win. A senior almost always won, and if it wasn’t a senior, it would be Veronica. But I could pretend. I spent half my life pretending.

Orion smiled sexily. “You’re gonna be the most beautiful queen ever.”

I smiled back. This was much better.