Star Power (9 page)

N
ia whipped the car down the highway, leaving Tallulahville and heading toward Minneapolis. Charly cranked up the music, and danced in her seat. She elbowed Nia, urging her to let go and let loose. Nia shook her head and rolled her eyes, then smiled. They turned left, and Charly looked around. Tall buildings, pedestrians, and a traffic jam met her eyes. She exhaled. Seeing a city made her feel at home, and she couldn't wait to get out and into the thick of it.

“Nia?” she asked, turning down the music. “So what's up with the parties? You don't go to any?”

“I've never been the partying type. I've gone a couple of times with Mya, but they weren't for me. As I'm sure you can tell, I'm not exactly the crowd type,” she said, heading toward a mall.

Charly gulped. The more she paid attention, the more she learned. So Nia and Mya had partied together before? She never would've guessed it, but she wasn't going to bring it up either. Nia's guard was coming down, and that's exactly where she needed it to be able to get through to her. “So about the not being a crowd type, is that across the board? Or does it apply just some of the time?” she questioned, hoping Nia's dislike for crowds was something she could get her to work through. She needed to reinvent her from the inside out, and that meant she had to get her to lighten up and, possibly, have fun.

Nia smoothed her dull ponytail, then turned into the mall parking lot. She exhaled, an obvious frustration growing in her. “I'm not sure what you're asking, Charly,” she said, then whipped the car into a garage adjacent to one of the big stores.

“You know, crowds? Like do you ever do crowds? I mean, personally, I can do without them, but sometimes I have to deal with them. And believe it or not, sometimes I even have a good time.”

Nia turned into a stall, put the car in park, and killed the engine. She grabbed her awful-looking purse from the backseat, then looked at Charly. “Well, of course you would say that. Look at you.”

After exiting the car and entering the mall, Charly spent the next ten minutes or so pondering Nia's statement. When they walked past a huge storefront window, she compared their appearances in the reflection. She was jazzy and cute, and Nia just was. Nia didn't stand out, and nothing about her said memorable, not in a good way. But she could change that, she was sure. Giving Nia the once-over once more, she knew she had to do something quickly. The girl's style was killing her, and she was clueless about it.

“You mind if we go into the bookstore?” Nia asked, wearing a hopeful look. “I know we're here for my dad, and I promise you there's a couple of good stores here, and some really nice high-end furniture places on the strip, but there's a book I must have.”

Charly pasted on a smile. She'd give Nia anything she wanted to get what she wanted from her. She just had to figure out how to make her give in because Nia wasn't going to do it willingly. “Cool. Lead the way.”

As soon as they entered the bookstore, Nia tensed and began to fidget. “You know what, Charly? Never mind. We're supposed to be here for my dad, so my book can wait,” she said to Charly, turning around.

Charly looked over Nia's shoulder, and her eyes lit. Trent was nearby, holding a book in his hand. She tilted her head and focused her eyes to be sure it was him, but she didn't have to. Nia's demeanor and nervousness confirmed it for her. “Oh, isn't that Trent over there?” she asked, playing dumb. “We should go say hi.”

Nia's eyes stretched, then she looked down at her clothes, which told Charly she was more aware of her dowdiness than she'd let on. “No, that's okay. He's busy, and we have stuff to do.”

Charly shook her head, then grabbed Nia by the forearm. “Come on. We don't wanna be rude. He did offer to help, after all.” She took two steps, then was snatched back, hard and quickly. Nerdy or not, Nia was strong.

“No,” she snapped in a loud whisper, pulling Charly out of the store, and releasing her from her grip. Her answer was clipped and emphatic, and her expression was just as hard.

Charly stood to the side, and crossed her arms. She tapped her foot and smiled like a Cheshire cat. With tilted head, she asked, “Why not? What's so wrong with saying hello? I mean, if you don't like him . . . Right? You said you don't like him,” Charly pushed. It didn't matter what Nia said with words, she did like Trent. A lot. Anyone who had sight could tell that. “So, I'll just go say hello.”

Nia grimaced and grabbed her arm. Her look was serious and cold . . . and revealing. This side of Nia wasn't shy or meek, but mean. “I said no.” Charly raised her brows and squared her shoulders. Nia could get as mad as she wanted; it didn't faze her. She'd gone up against worse, namely the incident with the police and Rory. She still hadn't forgotten about that, and couldn't wait to connect her fist with Rory's lying mouth that sent her to jail.

Charly stared at her, then looked down to where Nia's hand was. She cleared her throat, and Nia let her go.

As if she hadn't just snapped and snatched Charly's arm, Nia batted her eyes 'til they teared up. Seeing Nia's mood switch so quickly, Charly began to wonder which was off: Nia's emotional stability or her sincerity. “Please?” Nia pleaded. “Not like this.” She pulled on her clothes.

Charly's eyebrows rose and she let go of her suspicions for a moment. She had Nia right where she wanted her. “I got'cha, but you're gonna have to do something for me for me to do this—or rather, not do this—for you.”

“What?” Nia sounded scared and uncertain.

Charly exhaled. “You have to give me two full days.”

Nia shrugged. “I can do that. It's for my father—”

“No.” Charly stopped her. “Two days of helping you help yourself. I mean, look at you, Nia. There we were on your playground—the bookstore—and you couldn't even play because you're not comfortable with yourself. You're smart. I'm sure somewhere deep down you're probably witty, too.” Nia's face went blank. “Okay, maybe not, but still. You're a nerd—the smartest girl in school, I bet.”

“The smartest girl in the county and, last I heard, the state,” Nia corrected. “But smart doesn't matter, unless you count the universities that only want to use you.”

Charly tilted her head. “Use you how?”

Nia turned her face away. “They only want you because you'll make their stats look good. I know that's why they came after me after I took the pre-SATS a few years ago. Ever since then, they won't stop. They keep hounding and scouting and recruiting. So who does smart really matter for?”

Charly grabbed Nia's shoulders. “Are you freakin' kidding me? ‘Smart doesn't matter'? It does matter. It makes the world go 'round. So my question to you is why not be the best at it? If you're gonna be a nerd, be the best nerd there is—period. Handle your position, master it like the Google and Facebook guys and Bill Gates.”

Nia was stuck on stupid, and didn't speak for seconds. “But how, Charly? Mya's the one everybody—”

“Forget Mya. I'm talking about you, Nia. And to answer your question
how,
you're looking at how.” She held out her arms and turned around in a complete circle, then nodded her head in a so-there fashion. “Nia, let's just have fun. Everything else will come together.” Charly's cell phone vibrated, interrupting her speech. She looked at the screen and saw she had a text message from a blocked number. She shrugged and opened it. A bag of Skittles appeared on the screen with the same warning: YOU'RE BEING PLAYED.

T
hey sat on Nia's bed sorting clothes in two stacks. Charly had managed to walk away with five pair of shoes, three for Nia, who didn't suspect it, and two for herself. She'd also bought bags and bags of clothes and, thanks to Nia's insistence, several books on cracking calculus and improving her vocabulary. She'd protested at first, and had taken it as a jab against her smarts, then appreciated Nia's advice. Statistics had proven that people with a broader lexicon, word knowledge, and command, were more respected and paid higher. Charly could live with that, she told herself. Who didn't want respect and more pay? Plus, mastering words would prepare her for the GRE before college, and there was nothing like being ahead, Nia had told her. Being a front-runner had already given Nia a list of scholarships to choose from. Charly looked at her project, and began to see her as a person, not a thing she had to fix. True, their looks were different. Charly sparkled like a diamond and Nia resembled dust. But Charly knew that the girl sitting before her was a gem just waiting to be cleaned so she could gleam. Her personality, that was finally surfacing, was also warm and infectious.

“So . . . you're really going to wear these?” Nia asked, holding up a pair of four-inch heels.

Charly laughed. “Yes, of course, and they're gonna be hot too.”

Nia shook her head and put down the shoes. “They'll be hot for you, but would be pain for me.” She picked up another pair that was barely two inches high. “These too. I could never walk in these.”

Charly gagged. Surely Nia was kidding. She was seventeen, her shoe skills should've been inherent by now. “Don't tell me you can't walk in heels. That's so . . . so cliché for a nerd. If you can walk with all those books I'm sure you carry around, you should be able to glide in heels. It's just balancing a different part of your body.”

Nia shook her head. “Yeah, right.”

Charly moved one of the piles of clothes out of her way, then got off the bed. She walked over to one of the bookcases, then took down several big books. “Come on,” she beckoned Nia. “Grab a pair of shoes.”

Nia was still shaking her head. She burst out laughing. “No. No. No. I know everyone thinks I'm sullen, but I'm not suicidal. Any of these shoes would result in death from breaking my neck.”

Charly set the heavy books down on the desk, and put her hand on her hip. “C'mon. Grab a pair. I bet you fifteen dollars that I can turn you into catwalk material in under an hour.”

Nia was wiping tears from her eyes because she'd laughed herself to tears. “Thirty, and you've got a deal.” She nodded. “Which pair?”

Charly smiled. “The universe blessed us to wear the same size, so you choose. Just make sure it's a high pair,” Charly urged.

With hesitancy and a purposefully loud moan, Nia selected a pair of three-inch heels, then Charly shook her head no. Nia shrugged, then picked up the highest ones on the bed, which were a whopping five inches high, but had a forgiving one-inch platform under the front of the shoes. “If I'm going to risk my life, I might as well get it over with quickly,” she said, then slipped off her sandals and began putting on the five-inchers.

“That's my girl. Go hard or go home,” Charly said, walking over to Nia to help her to her feet.

Nia's legs shook, and her ankles wobbled. For a second, Charly thought she was going to lose the bet, but she couldn't let that happen. She was a go-getter not a quitter, plus winning the thirty bucks would be great because the studio wasn't going to reimburse her for her things. Nia was the recipient of the goods. “Wait. Wait. Wait . . .” she instructed. “Hold on to my shoulders. Spread your feet shoulder-width apart. Now lock your knees. Hold it. Don't move,” she said, then hustled over to the desk and grabbed the stack of heavy books. She lugged them back over to where Nia was standing, set them on the mattress, then climbed on top of it. Nia was towering over her, and there was no way she could stack the books on Nia's head while standing on the floor. “Still. Be perfectly still, Nia.” She put two encyclopedias on Nia's head, followed by a dictionary and
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
. “Give me your hands. Now hold these in place while I get down,” she instructed, first positioning Nia's hands correctly, then getting off the bed.

Nia stood there looking like the Chiquita Banana woman from back in the day, balancing stuff on her head. Charly walked in front of her, then held out one hand to Nia. “Shouldn't I practice walking without the books first?”

“Look, stay in your lane and let me handle mine. You're great at schoolwork, I'm spectacular at fashion. Now balance the books with one of your hands and give me the other. Think of it as a different sort of physics. You're going to think about the books not falling. That's it.” Charly took Nia's hand, and began walking backward, inches at a time. Nia wobbled and froze, then exhaled. The look on her face was determined, and Charly was proud.

First she took tiny steps, then gradually moved into a slow stride. The books almost fell, but Nia let go of Charly's hand, then reached up with both of hers and held them in place. Before they knew it, she'd walked across the room and back more times than they could count. Nia smiled big and wide. “I got it. I got it, Charly!”

Charly nodded, then held out her hand. “I was counting on it. Thirty big ones right here, please.” She wiggled her fingers on her outstretched palm.

The door burst open. “Nia? What are you doing? I know
you're
not in heels!” Mya asked, crossing her arms. Her lips poked out, and her eyebrows were raised in judgment.

The books fell off Nia's head and onto the floor with a loud thud. And though Charly couldn't hear it, she knew Nia's pride had followed suit. “I . . . uh . . .” Nia stammered. She forced a barely there smile, then reached down and began unbuckling the shoes. She slipped them off one at a time. She rolled her eyes at herself. “I know, right? I don't wear stuff like this. Charly and I had a bet. That's it. You know fashion isn't my thing.” She looked up and shrugged before standing. “Charly, Mya's the fashion diva in the family. She's like the high-heel expert around here. I bet she'd take your money because she can jog in stilettos.” Her praise for her twin sister was genuine, but her voice was filled with regret.

Charly looked from one twin to the other, and noticed the huge difference. It wasn't their opposite tastes in fashion, or the scar zigzagging down Nia's face, and she knew it wasn't the popular sister versus the nerdy sister that separated them either. That couldn't be it. From the yearbook pictures she'd seen of Mya, Mya was once just as nerdy and unappealing as Nia. She wondered when that had taken place and what caused Mya's change. Her gut told her Mya's blossoming had something to do with one sibling being clearly dominant over the other. Maybe Mya felt prettier and, thus, more deserving. Charly didn't have her whys lined up, but she would. Whatever it was she'd get down to it, she had to. “Hmph,” she said, watching the interaction between the two. Nia's bowing down to Mya, and Mya relishing in her power, exerting it like someone had made her queen told Charly if she wanted to help Nia, she'd have to first get to Mya. Mya was the wall that barricaded Nia in her shell, and Charly had to figure out why Mya was so angry. Why was she passive aggressively bullying her twin sister? Getting to the thick of it was going to be rough, she knew, because she didn't care for Mya.

Mya smiled, then went and picked up the shoes. “Oh, these are superhot.” She started kicking off her flip-flops, apparently getting ready to try on the high heels.

Charly walked over to her, then reached for the shoes. “Sorry, Mya. Nia was just breaking them in. They're mine.” Charly scrunched her nose, took the heels, then reached in her pocket and retrieved some money. She peeled off a few bills, then handed them to Nia. “You won. I bet you couldn't break them in.” She held up a shoe, then looked at it. “And I lost. No more gambling for me.”

Nia looked appreciative, and Mya looked scorned. Charly went over to the bed, and began refilling the shopping bags from the mall. There was no way she was going to allow Mya to get to the rest of the shoes and gear. Sure, ninety-nine percent of it was for Nia, but Nia didn't know. She'd played the sidelines, waiting in chairs while Charly shopped. Charly only hoped the clothes fit properly. Nia had told her her sizes the first day they'd met, but Charly knew for a fact that many girls lied about their size because she sometimes did. “Okay, ladies, I've wasted too much time. I have to get back to work,” she fibbed, excusing herself. The bags banged against her leg as she walked out. It took everything within her not to slam the door behind her. Mya—her entitlement and passive bullying of Nia—got under Charly's skin.

“Hi, Charly,” Trent greeted, surprising her on her way down the stairs.

Charly stopped, and talked herself down. She was barely seconds away from making a U-turn and going back to snatch Mya off her high post. Now she had to calm herself because she wasn't there to hand out butt kickings, but she wasn't beyond doing so either. “Oh, hi, Trent,” she replied. “It's good to see you. You on your way to see Nia?” she quizzed, waiting to read his expression.

He froze, then shook his head in the negative. His pregnant pause told Charly he wasn't as against the idea of Nia as he was pretending to be. “Um, no. I was just going to the rest room.”

Charly smiled. “Trent, this isn't my business, but you know that I know that this house has many bathrooms. There's even one outside, and a couple downstairs, right?”

Trent nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, so that must mean one of two things: you prefer the bathroom up here or you're stalking Mya. I mean, since you aren't interested in Nia,” Charly said, her expression knowing, daring him to be honest.

Trent reared back his head as if he were dodging a physical blow. “Mya? Are you kidding me?” He laughed. “You've got me all wrong. I'm not into . . . Well, never mind. It was good seeing you, Charly. Can you tell Liam I'll be right back? He's gonna show me how to make some precision cuts on one of the power saws.”

“Will do, Trent. I'll see you outside.” She began walking down the stairs.

“And later too, right? At the party? Liam promised you guys would be there.”

Charly just looked at him and smiled. There was no way she was going to agree, and she wouldn't turn him down either. She had some thinking and scheming to do, and she didn't know what would work in her favor. She was certain of one thing, though. There was no way Liam would be attending any party without her, especially if Mya was going to be there.