Surviving High School (2 page)

“I wish I could. But, you know, swimming. Besides, I don’t have time for guys. I barely have time to text back and forth with
you
.”

“
Everyone
has time for guys,” said Kimi. “I mean, come on! Homecoming is only, like, two and a half months away. Then there’s the winter formal two months after that. Not to mention prom in eight months—and that means getting a junior or senior to invite you. We’re practically behind schedule already!”

Emily laughed.

“Me at a dance? You’re kidding, right? You
have
met my dad.” It was true that Emily’s dad had set an outright ban on her dating, much less going to dances, until she was in college. Not that it really mattered: Between school, swim practice, and homework, Emily’s schedule was booked for the next four years anyway.

“Your dad, huh?” Kimi asked. “I just thought that now that we’re in high school, you might want to stop living like a nun.”

“I have a great system with guys,” said Emily. “I don’t have time for them, and they’re not interested in me.”

“Sounds to me like you just haven’t met the right one,” said Kimi. “But we’ll work on that.”

“Okay,” said Emily, eager to end the conversation. “I’d better get to class—if I can find it.”

Kimi looked over Emily’s schedule and wrinkled her brow.

“Hm… room 246B? That’s probably on the second floor of the library building. Too bad. It looks like we’re going in opposite directions. I’m headed down that hall over there.”

“Our homerooms aren’t even in the same
building
?” Emily felt a wave of panic rising in her.

“Relax,” said Kimi. “There’s a map on the back of your schedule. Just follow that and you’ll be fine.”

Unfortunately, Emily’s journey to room 246B proved to be slightly more perilous than Kimi had predicted. Emily was halfway across the parking lot when she realized she’d been holding her map upside down and had to circle back. By that time, the first bell of the day had rung, and the halls were mostly empty.

Once she got to the library building, Emily’s luck didn’t get much better. The signs indicating where each classroom was located were all outdated, missing, or simply wrong, and she was forced to check every door, hoping she’d finally find the right one.

She was beginning to think she’d never get to room 246B when she bumped into a pretty redheaded girl dressed in a knee-length black skirt with matching leggings and a white tailored blouse. Rather than a backpack, the girl carried an elegant black leather handbag. Maybe Kimi’s first-day outfit wasn’t as out of place as Emily had thought.

“You look almost as lost as I am,” said the redhead. “Which room are you looking for?”

“246B.”

“Well, then we’re both in the same boat,” said the girl, offering her hand. “I’m Alicia, by the way.”

“I’m Emily.” Given Alicia’s sophisticated clothes and bag, Emily would never have pegged her for a fellow lost freshman. “Are you, like, a transfer or something?”

Alicia smiled. “Something like that. Come on,” she added. “I think we’re almost there.”

Sure enough, Emily and Alicia found their classroom a few doors down. As they walked inside, Emily turned to Alicia and asked, “Want to sit together?”

Alicia smiled again. “Unfortunately, I can’t.”

Can’t?
thought Emily as she took a seat near the front of the room. Then, as she settled into her chair and looked up, she saw Alicia walk up to the whiteboard and write her full name:
ALICIA PREZ
.

“Apologies for my tardiness,” Alicia said, turning back to the class. “They’ve literally moved my classroom four times in the last week as we’ve been getting ready for the new year. Trust me when I say that I arrived thirty minutes early in 246
A
.”

The other students in the class chuckled as Emily cringed. She couldn’t believe it. One class in, and she’d already completely embarrassed herself in front of her teacher.
Are you, like, a transfer or something?
She slunk low in her chair as if trying to hide from Alicia’s gaze.

“Now,” said Alicia, “a few ground rules for homeroom. One, you are permitted to call me Alicia or Ms. Prez, depending on your personal preference. Two, this is
your
homeroom—the place where you come to check in, tell me how you’re doing, and complain about your other classes. Juicy gossip on the rest of the faculty is appreciated and even welcomed. It’s my first year here, so I’m going to need all the ammunition I can get.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?!” someone shouted from the back of the classroom, and Alicia’s eyes suddenly went cold.

“Right. Number three: I may look like some starry-eyed innocent fresh out of grad school, but allow me to assure you that this kitty has fangs. Any more comments like that, and you may just find yourself transferred to homeroom with Mr. Upton—
his
first class of the year always starts with an informative scared-straight talk with some very nice felons who I’m sure would
love
to meet you.”

There wasn’t another peep out of the class.

“Excellent,” said Alicia. “I just know this is going to be an awesome year.”

The girl next to Emily turned to a black-haired guy behind her and whispered, “I want to
be
her.”

Emily couldn’t help but agree.

The rest of the morning passed smoothly. Almost too smoothly. Since Emily’s run-in with Dominique and Lindsay that morning, no one bothered her about her clothes, her hair, or her stupid ID. In fact, no one paid attention to her at all. She
kept an eye out for Nick Brown, but because he was a senior, it was unlikely they’d share any classes. She just had to be on alert in the hallways during period changes.

In Geometry, Emily breezed through the practice problems that Mr. Gibbs presented as “a taste of what’s to come,” but she didn’t make a big deal about finishing them in five minutes like Deependu Mahajan or Eric Erickson. She sat in the back, calmly checking her work until Mr. Gibbs announced the answers.

In English, she tried to talk to Bryce Holmgren, Tony Kan, and a couple of the other guys she knew from the swim team, but after a quick hello they turned around and started chatting up Linda Byrne and Paula de Veer, whose mouths shimmered with lip gloss.

“You going to Ben Kale’s place this Friday?” Tony asked the girls. “His parties are supposed to be legendary.”

“Ben Kale? I thought he got expelled last year,” said Paula.

“Just suspended,” said Tony. “He’s totally back with a vengeance.”

“You think you can get us into his party?” asked Linda.

“For sure,” said Tony. “Hot girls are always welcome.”

Paula and Linda giggled, blushed, and said they’d “think about it,” which meant they’d definitely be there. The guys didn’t bother inviting Emily, not that she could go anyway.
Still
, she thought,
they could have at least asked
.

As she went from class to class, Emily felt like a visitor, an impostor, a middle schooler, or a narc trying unsuccessfully to infiltrate the high school. She stared at the older girls’ dark
skinny jeans or short dresses and at their arms wrapped around boyfriends in varsity jackets.

In an attempt to reassure herself, she tried to count the other girls wearing sneakers, but they seemed just as lost as she was, shuffling through the halls with their eyes on the gray tiled floor, holding their books tight against their chests, darting right and left to avoid physical contact—especially with guys.

At lunch, Emily sat with Kimi at a table in a corner of the cafeteria, where she would be able to spot Nick Brown or Dominique before they noticed her. Most tables at the edges of the cafeteria were either uninhabited or populated by pockets of nerds and outcasts, scrubby skaters, and geeks with long white boxes of gaming cards.

At the table to the left of Kimi and Emily, a pair of boys as pale as vampires rolled dice and pretended they were medieval warriors. One wore a T-shirt that read
GAME GEEK
across the chest. His questionably cooler friend had a Spider-Man backpack.

The next layer of tables in was filled with band and drama geeks who weren’t necessarily popular but formed a large-enough contingent that no one messed with them. Then there
were the preps, the dumber jocks, some of the more clean-cut skaters and punks, and the cooler half of the emo crowd—kids on the edge of popularity. And just past them, deep in the heart of the cafeteria, was the center table.

To understand the center table meant viewing Twin Branches High as a solar system. The nerds inhabited the icy asteroids on the farthest reaches. Then, as you got closer to the middle, the planets became larger, warmer, and more desirable—until finally you reached the sun, the bright center, the spot where only the most popular kids dared to sit: the center table.

The center table stood in the middle of the cafeteria beneath a massive skylight that bathed it in intense sunbeams, even on cloudy days. Unlike the long picnic-style tables that made up most of the cafeteria’s furniture, the center table was circular and surrounded by an elegant, curved bench. Seating was limited, and upperclassmen tended to take up most of the space, but Dominique and Lindsay sat there flashing their perfect smiles at the cute boys who surrounded them. Emily tried not to look.

“Let me guess, a dark elf thief and a human cleric?” asked a small, plump, dark-skinned boy from the table to their right. “I can always spot fellow gamers.”

“I don’t—um, steal things,” said Emily, slightly confused.

“Forgive Amir,” said a tall, lanky guy with a serious computer tan and wearing a Batman T-shirt. “He’s not used to conversations with actual females. We were just curious if you want to sit with us—since we’re stuck together here in the
outer reaches, you know? I’m Kevin, by the way. Kevin Delucca.”

“Uh, sure—” Emily started, before Kimi cut her off.

“Actually, we have some private matters to discuss,” she said.

As the boys returned to their game, Emily leaned over and whispered to Kimi, “What’s up with you? They seemed like nice guys.”

“Emily, Emily, Emily. Don’t be so naïve. Right now, as
fresh
men, we’re a fresh commodity here. Sure, we’re not popular
yet
, but I’d like to think that one day we could be. If we start hanging out with guys like that, it’s never going to happen. We’ll be branded nerd girls for life.”

“Okay,” said Emily, though she didn’t quite buy the logic. “I’m too hungry to talk much anyway.”

While Kimi sat beside her nibbling on half a bagel and some cottage cheese, Emily pulled out her lunch: yogurt, a whey protein shake, orange juice, half a loaf of whole-wheat bread smeared with almond butter, Muscle Milk, a tin of almonds, a sack of vitamins, raisins, two bananas, and a package of thin-sliced turkey. Laid out in front of her, the food took up almost a third of their cafeteria table. Luckily, no one else was sitting with them.

“You sure you don’t want a couple of pizzas to go with that?” asked Kimi, her eyes big.

“I guess I’m not that hungry,” said Emily, smiling. “I had a big breakfast.”

“I bet you did,” said Kimi, savoring half a spoonful of cottage cheese. “How many calories a day are you up to now?”

“Eight thousand. But you should see the
guy
swimmers eat. I mean, most people don’t regulate their percentages of carbs, proteins, and fats correctly. You’d be surprised how even at the Olympic level a lot of the guys are just eating deep-fried turkeys and cheese sandwiches. Some of them eat, like, twelve thousand or thirteen thousand calories a day, which is probably on the high end of what they should be—”

“Oh yeah,” interrupted Kimi. “
That
would be a lot. I mean, eight thousand calories is barely anything—for a
polar bear
. It’s so unfair. If I even eat, like, two extra cookies, my jeans don’t fit anymore. My mom says our family has slow metab—”

“Eat! Eat! Eat! Eat!”

At the center table, a group of junior and senior guys had formed a circle around Dominique and were shouting encouragement as she ate. She actually
was
wolfing down two pizzas. As she got to the last couple of slices, the guys continued chanting: “Dominique! Dominique!”

Emily rolled her eyes.
Show-off.
Dominique had been hanging out with older kids—especially guys—ever since she’d come to town. Her older half brother, Cameron, swam for the guys’ team, providing Dominique with an easy introduction to many of his teammates, who were among the most popular guys at school.

Cameron himself was more of a loner, a strong swimmer with a near-perfect body that left girls tripping over their own tongues. Even Emily, who heard barely any gossip, knew he’d dated half of the popular girls and hooked up with the rest.
Today, he sat watching Dominique’s performance with a wry smile, even as his friends cheered her on.

As Dominique finished the last slice, the crowd applauded and held up the empty pizza boxes for the rest of the cafeteria to see. A couple of the guys peeled off from the crowd and walked away, talking to each other. One was huge, his tight blue T-shirt straining to contain his bulky muscles. He also had the worst haircut in the world: a terrible buzz cut with the words
GO LIZARDS
shaved into the back, stretching from ear to ear.

The other boy, though, was gorgeous. He wore a red-and-white-striped polo shirt that hung loose, except for the sleeves, which clung to his well-toned arms. His dark brown hair fell just over eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Emily bet he had a nice smile, too, but he wasn’t smiling now.

“Dude, a hot chick who can pack away that much pizza is basically a goddess,” said the bigger one, whose letterman jacket read
SPENCER
on the chest. “I’m all over that.”

“Yeah,” the hot one said without enthusiasm. “Sure.”

“You okay, man?” Spencer put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You seem—I dunno—off, or something.”

“Just bored. One day back and I’m already bored. Maybe there
is
something wrong with me. I just can’t get excited about a girl putting away two pizzas.”