Something True (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

True

I couldn’t stand behind the counter for one more minute. I was in such close proximity to Orion and Darla’s smacking lips that I could actually hear the slurping, see the saliva when it caught the sunlight just so. If I didn’t move soon, the resulting meltdown would probably involve someone getting an entire vat of decaf dumped over her head. Which, while momentarily satisfying, would be bad for everyone in the long run.

“Tasha?” I turned to my coworker, who was pouring out coffee for a middle-aged dad with a six-year-old who’d just picked up his birthday cupcakes. “I’m taking my ten.”

“Oooookay.”

She had a dubious look on her pretty face. Probably because we’d only been working an hour. But when a girl needed a break, a girl needed a break. I lifted the pink Formica counter open at its hinge and walked over to the table on the far side of the room near the front window, where Hephaestus had settled in for his stakeout. He gave me a wry look as I sat down across from him, my back to the happy couple.

“You okay?” he asked.

I wanted to put my head in my hands, but I refused to slump. Not in front of her. I had recognized the look she’d given me when she’d thrown her arms dramatically around Orion’s neck. Triumph. Plain and simple.

“He was flirting with me, wasn’t he? Before she got here,” I whispered hoarsely. “I’m not making that part up.”

“You’re not making that part up, no.” Hephaestus slowly folded the newspaper he was perusing and laid it aside. With the red-and-blue-striped scarf hanging around the neck of his open leather jacket, the steaming coffee, the newsprint, he looked like a young, hot college professor. “But does it really matter? As soon as you make your next love match, the two of you will be reunited and you’ll be out of here, anyway. What happens today is irrelevant. Soon all of this will be vapor, like a waking nightmare.”

I looked down at my hands, the fingertips raw from practicing with my bow for hours last night after so many days without touching a string.

“It doesn’t feel irrelevant.” Darla giggled loudly. “Though nightmare is about right.”

Someone rapped loudly on the window and Hephaestus and I both jumped, but it wasn’t Artemis or Apollo. It was Wallace. He waved, then made a move for the entrance. At the same moment, Darla extricated herself from Orion’s arms and started across the café toward the bathroom. Wallace opened the door, still looking in my direction, and slammed right into Darla’s side. What can I say? I was powerless to stop it.

Well, actually, I could have stopped it with my powers, but I didn’t. My bad. There are worse things than hoping to see your rival fall on her butt.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry!” Wallace said, grasping her arm to steady her.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Darla said, flustered.

Then they looked at each other. His eyes widened. She blushed. For the first time I think they were really seeing who they’d each just bumped into, and it definitely had an effect on the both of them.

“Oh, um . . . hey . . . Darla.” Wallace shoved his hands into the pockets of his heather-gray wool jacket.

“Hey, it’s . . . Wallace. I mean, hi.”

“I didn’t see you,” Wallace said. “I mean, I did see
someone
, but it was too late to stop, so I tried to zig and then you—”

“Zagged,” Darla said.

They smiled. Together. Like mirror images. Like they were both thinking the same thing. It lasted half a second, before Darla shyly averted her eyes to look at the floor, but I saw it. Something flipped inside my chest, and my pulse began to race. There was way more going on here than the average person could see.

They liked each other. More than liked. I could feel it in my bones.

But Wallace Bracken, the proud tech geek with a 4.0 in awkward behavior, and Darla Shayne, the boy-crazy, clothing-obsessed, popular chick with the vapid friends? How was that even possible? Until now I’d never seen the two of them speak to each other.

“Yeah,” Wallace said. “Anyway, I guess I should go—”

He pointed at me and Hephaestus.

“Me too.”

She lifted her hand in a sort of wave, then click-clacked toward the bathroom without looking back. Wallace turned slowly and joined us. His dark hair fell over his warm brown eyes, and he checked his iPhone quickly before shoving it back into the deep pocket of his black cargo pants.

“Hey, True . . . Heath.” Wallace made a big show of looking over the newspaper. “What’s happening in the world? Anything good?”

Hephaestus smirked. “Is there ever?”

Wallace laughed a fake laugh and glanced in the direction of the bathroom alcove.

“Um . . . what was that?” I asked.

He lifted his shoulders, Mr. Casual. “What was what?”

“That.” I lifted a thumb toward the ladies’ room door. “You and Darla. It seemed . . . awkward.”

“Oh. That.” He sat heavily in the chair next to mine. “We used to be friends. A long time ago. No big.”

He was avoiding my eyes. Wallace never lied, but he also never avoided my eyes. Which meant he was lying now. For the first time since I’d known him. Or at least not telling the whole truth.

“So,” he said, leaning forward and finally looking at me. “Where’s my cupcake?”

Way to change the subject. There was something going on here. What if Darla and Wallace were a love match? What if they were meant to be? On the outside, they were complete opposites and totally wrong for each other. But maybe he could ground her a little with his penchant for straight talk and total disregard for social acceptance. And maybe she could help him live a little—introduce him to new people, stray his attention from his iPad every now and then with a party or something.

And if they could find true love, then she would break up with Orion, and Orion would be . . . free.

“Coming right up,” I said with a smile, rising from my seat.

I walked back to the counter, feeling much lighter than I had when I’d left it, and shot Orion a big, bright smile—which he returned in spades now that his girlfriend wasn’t around. This could be it. This could really be it. My third pairing. Match this couple and Orion would be mine, one way or another. Mine, all mine.

CHAPTER FIVE

Darla

“Claudia! Peter! Wait up!”

I jogged as best I could in my Jimmy Choo boots to catch up with Claudia Catalfo and Peter Marrott in front of the school on Monday morning. It wasn’t easy, considering the pencil skirt I was wearing and the fact that the point on the bottom of the heels was about one millimeter square. When Claudia turned around, her eyes widened. I hoped because I looked so hot and not because I looked like I was about to deck.

“Hey, Darla,” Peter said, his brown hair flopping over his forehead adorably, like always. He looked me up and down. “Wow. You look—”

I paused in front of them, half panting. He didn’t finish his sentence. Just kind of winced. Claudia had a grip on his hand like she was afraid I might tear him away or something.

“I know,” I said, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “Well, homecoming court is being announced today, so I thought I’d dress up.”

Not just me, of course. Veronica and I had spent an hour on our phones last night, texting selfies back and forth until we found the perfect outfit. She was wearing a red cardigan and white tank top with a dark-gray miniskirt, and I was wearing a pink cardigan with a gray tank top and a black miniskirt. I had chosen the boots myself.

Claudia’s green eyes flicked to my cleavage and her nose wrinkled. A blush crossed my face, but whatever. The girl never wore makeup and dressed like a grandmother half the time in these turtlenecks and leggings, her hair always in a bun. I wished she would come into My Favorite Things, the boutique where I worked. When you’re that tiny, it’s practically a sin to wear baggy clothes. Plus, if she would give me five minutes, I could totally show her how to accentuate her cheekbones and make her eyes look five times bigger. But then, she’d landed Peter Marrott with her current look, so she must have been doing something right.

“Okay,” Claudia said, glancing at her watch. “So . . . did you need something?”

“Oh, right. I want to join Boosters,” I said as a school bus roared by us, leaving behind a huge cloud of acrid exhaust. “Orion Floros and I are going out, and I think I should take over as his . . . booster person.”

“But he already has a booster,” Claudia said.

I rolled my eyes. “I know, but True Olympia? Come on. He doesn’t even like her.”

Lie. He did like her. Possibly, he was even attracted to her. But it was one tiny white lie for the sake of the greater good. I hadn’t asked Orion yet, but I was sure that if I did, he would say that he would totally want me, his girlfriend, to be his booster instead of some random person who wasn’t even part of our crowd. It just made sense. Plus, I loved the idea of doing the things for him that a booster was supposed to do, like baking brownies and decorating his locker and leaving little gifts at his house. Projects were totally my thing.

Also, I didn’t like the way it felt, seeing them together yesterday. I didn’t want to be jealous, but I was. Orion was my ticket to homecoming court. He was the last piece of my popularity puzzle. He wasn’t supposed to be looking at other girls like he wanted them. What would people think?

“Well, there she is now,” Claudia said, gesturing toward the parking lot. “If she doesn’t mind stepping down, then it’s fine.” She waved to True, who was walking toward the front door of the school with Heath at her side. The girl said something to Heath and came over to us alone. She was wearing a long, colorful, flowing skirt and a form-fitting white top. Very pretty. She’d definitely turned her whole look around since she’d first moved here. I had to admire that, at least.

“Hey, guys. What’s up?” she said, greeting the most popular guy in school and his girlfriend as if they were old friends. Color me confused.

“Darla wants to take over as Orion’s booster,” Claudia said, hugging a book to her chest. “Would you mind giving him up?”

I narrowed my eyes at True, trying for my best
don’t mess with me
look, which I’d learned by watching Veronica.

True laughed. “Um, yeah, I would.”

My jaw dropped, and an indignant sort of bleat came out. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” True replied.

I was so stunned I felt myself start to shrink. As hard as I tried, confrontation had never been my thing. When someone stood up to me, I became that girl again—the loser wallflower that no one listened to or cared about. The one who would sooner die than speak up for herself. My throat closed over, and I started to sweat. So, very, gross.

Get a grip, D. What would Veronica do?

I took a deep breath, lifted my chin, and looked down my nose at True.

“Excuse me, but he’s
my
boyfriend.”

Peter hid a laugh, badly, behind a cough. True sucked in her cheeks as if she’d just tasted a sour apple. “I’m aware. But if you wanted to be his booster, you should have signed up the day he made the team, like I did.”

“Okay, ladies,” Claudia said. “Let’s not make this a thing.”

True and I stared each other down. There was no way I was going to blink first. But then, out of nowhere, her expression changed. She lit up like she’d just been spritzed with cooling cucumber spray.

“I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t you join Boosters anyway? You can help Wallace plan the pancake breakfast this weekend!”

Claudia smiled. “Yes! That’s a great idea.”

“Wait, Wallace Bracken?” I asked, even though there was only one Wallace in the entire school.

Claudia, Peter, and True started walking again, and I fell into wobbly step with them.

“Yep. He’s sort of our manager,” Claudia said. “And he’s great with the organizing and everything, but not so much with the creativity and motivating. I bet you’d be incredible at that.”

My spirits perked up at the compliment, but only slightly. Wallace Bracken was my next-door neighbor. When we were kids, we used to play Harry Potter in our backyards together, making up elaborate stories and going out on dangerous adventures to slay Lord Voldemort. In middle school we were in all the same classes and we used to study at his house, eating the crazy cake combinations his mother was always trying out on us. Sometimes I’d even have dinner there while my mom was off establishing her career.

But then, Darbot had happened. And I’d decided that I was going to make myself Veronica’s best friend so that people would stop seeing me that way. But if you were Veronica Vine’s best friend, you couldn’t hang out with people like Wallace Bracken. She’d made that perfectly clear to the world in some pretty awful ways.

So I’d stopped being his best friend. We were still in almost all the same classes and he still lived next door, but we hadn’t so much as said hi to each other in, like, four years. Until yesterday, when he’d slammed into me at Goddess. But I don’t think that counts as much of a conversation.

“Wallace could handle the assignments and the budget, and maybe Darla could take care of decorations and getting everyone psyched to do their part,” True suggested oh-so-helpfully.

“Perfect,” Claudia said at the door to the school. “I’ll let Wallace know you’re coming to the meeting tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Um, sure,” I said. “Sounds good.”

“This is gonna be so great!” True exclaimed. Then she rushed to catch up with Heath on his way up the ramp.

I bit my tongue as I watched her go. If I had to deal with Wallace, then I had to deal with Wallace. At least if I was on the Boosters I could keep an eye on True and Orion at the events the team and the club had together. I could keep them from flirting, keep people from seeing them act couple-y when they weren’t.

Claudia and Peter turned as one to go inside.

“And hey! Good luck today!” I called after them.

“With what?” he asked.

“You know. Homecoming court? It’s being announced in homeroom?” I said.

They looked at each other sort of blankly. “Right. Thanks. You too,” Claudia said.

Like it didn’t matter to her one bit. I supposed when you were a total lock like they were, you had the luxury of pretending it was no big deal.

“Hey, D!”

“Hey, V!” I called out, pivoting on my heel.

The smile froze on my face when I saw Veronica striding toward me. She wore skintight jeans and an off-the-shoulder royal-blue sweater the exact shade of the Lake Carmody High blue. Her blond hair was as glossy and bouncy and perfect as ever, hanging straight down her back, and her diamond studs sparkled in her ears. But it was her boots that were the jaw-dropper. Calf-high, slouchy, creamy suede Michael Kors limited edition. They were thousand-dollar boots. I knew because I’d torn them out of
InStyle
last month and tacked them to my style board above my bed—the board full of the things I daydreamed I’d one day have.

“Where did you get those boots?” I blurted.

She lifted a shoulder and checked her phone, shooting off a quick text. “They were on my bed when I got home from spin last night. Daddy got them in L.A.”

What that really meant was that she’d asked her father’s assistant, Penelope, to get them for her, and Penelope had pulled a few strings, as always. Veronica’s dad might be a high-powered entertainment lawyer constantly jetting back and forth between New York and L.A., but his idea of high fashion was polka-dot suspenders and an only slightly stained tie.

“I thought we were dressing up,” I said, looking down at my outfit.

Standing next to her, I was seriously overdressed.

Three tiny lines appeared in Veronica’s perfect brow. “You didn’t get my text?”

I whipped out my phone. There was a text from Veronica sent fifteen minutes ago.

CHANGED MY MIND. GOING CAZ.

To which I had texted back on my way to school:

WHAT DOES CAZ MEAN?

“I got it. I just didn’t understand what it meant,” I said.

“Caz. You know, casual?” she said, striding past me.

“Oh. Okay.” I wished she’d texted me a little earlier so I’d had a chance to change. And also used words in the English language.

“So, isn’t this exciting?” I asked as I held open the door.

Veronica checked her phone again and sent another text. “What?”

“You know.”

Suddenly her face lit up, and she shoved the phone into her leather messenger bag. “Right! Homecoming announcements! Do you think you’ll get it?”

She breezed past me into the school, total confidence. She knew she was in. I followed her into the main hall, the buzz of conversation around me humming in my veins. It felt like the revving of the engines before a big race.

“I hope so,” I said. “What do you think?”

We paused in the center of the hallway. Her locker was on one side of the school and mine was on the other.

“I think that whatever happens, we’re going to have a kickass time at homecoming,” she said.

I felt like I’d been slapped, and my face fell. “So . . . you don’t think I’m going to get it.”

“No! Of course I do! I voted for you!” Veronica said. “I’m just saying, it’s not the biggest deal. I mean, if you don’t get it. That’s all. Don’t be disappointed. It’s not like it’s
so
much fun to ride around the football field in a convertible, freezing your ass off in your tiny dress.”

Maybe not if you’ve already done it twice. I swallowed hard, trying not to let her get to me. She was just preparing me for the worst. That’s what friends are for.

“And speaking of dresses, don’t forget! Shopping this afternoon!” She grinned excitedly, as if she didn’t go shopping every afternoon of her life.

“Right. My new dress.”

Last night I’d spent way too much time staring at myself in the mirror wearing my blue dress, and honestly? I still loved it, even if my hips did stand out a tad. I didn’t want a new dress. I didn’t need a new dress. But now was not the time to debate it. We had to get to homeroom.

“Well, good luck, V,” I said. Not that she needed it.

“Good luck, D!” she replied.

We hugged, the bell rang, and it was time to face the announcements.

*    *    *

Fifteen minutes later I sat in homeroom, experiencing what it must feel like to have a heart attack. Or a stroke. Or both at the same time. My heart was fluttering and making me hiccup. I could feel the blood running through the veins and arteries in my wrists. I kept having hot flashes, followed by extreme cold blasts that made me shiver. Under my desk, my knees were pressed together, my hands clasped palm to sweaty-ass palm.

“The chess club recorded its first victory of the season last night, beating Jamestown High eight to one,” the vice principal announced over the loudspeaker. “Their next match will be held at Oak Ridge High this Thursday, so come on out and support the team!”

My teeth clenched. Who cared about the damn chess club? Get to the homecoming announcement already! Homecoming!

“Hey, Darla! Did you finish the calc homework?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Rusty Shipman was leaning forward in his desk, his ever-present spray of acne shining particularly red this morning. I wished someone would get the kid some Proactiv for Christmas. He was actually pretty handsome, but the zits were so distracting.

“Yeah, why?” I asked.

“I can’t get number ten. Can I see your notes?”

“Yeah. No problem.” I fished through my bag for my homework and handed it to him. From across the room I saw Kenna eyeing us curiously as she toyed with one of her short black braids, and faced forward again. She wouldn’t tell Veronica I was whispering with Rusty in homeroom, would she?

“And now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the announcement of this year’s homecoming court as voted on by you, the students of Lake Carmody High.”

I just about fainted and glanced at Kenna again. Her glossy smile was excited and encouraging. I felt so weak I could barely bring up a smile back.

“If your name is on this list, please come to room 128 immediately after school today for an informational meeting about campaign rules and regulations.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get on with it!

“First, the freshman representatives. The freshman princes will be Nico DeLeo and Scott Rasmussen. The freshman princesses will be Zadie Carlson and Vanessa Vine.”