Art Geeks and Prom Queens

  “So, I noticed a lot of cute boys last night,” my mom singsongs, as she joins us at the table clutching her coffee mug.

  Everybody giggles on cue. Well, everyone but me, because it hurts to laugh.

  “Do any of you have a boyfriend?” she asks.

  Kristi shakes her head. “No. That would just interfere with our other activities. I mean, we go on group dates and stuff like that, but nothing serious. We just don’t have time for that right now.” She smiles at my mom, and Kayla and Jen Jen nod in agreement.

  “Wow. You girls are so disciplined and together. I was nothing like that at your age,” she says wistfully.

  “Weren’t you modeling in Paris?” Jen Jen asks, reaching for her orange juice.

  “I was just fourteen when I left home, and I certainly didn’t have the good sense that you girls do. I’m afraid I got a little caught up in it all.” She shakes her head at the memory.

  “Did you meet a lot of famous people?” Kristi asks, rearranging the food on her plate so it looks like she’s eating.

  “Oh, yes, plenty.” Then she takes a sip of her coffee and goes, “You know, talking to you girls, makes me feel so much better about Rio.”

  I look up, startled.

  “What do you mean?” Kristi asks.

  “Well, she probably didn’t mention it because she’s so modest, but we’re setting up a test shoot with Mario Saldana. I’m getting her that for her birthday.”

  Everyone is looking at me in shock. But no one’s as shocked as me.

  “I thought the shopping spree at Fashion Island was my gift,” I say.

  “No, honey, you needed those clothes. A gift is supposed to be something you don’t necessarily need.”

  “Is it also supposed to be something you don’t necessarily want?” I ask.

  “Oh, Rio, we’ll discuss this later,” she says, frowning at me and getting up from the table.

  Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen left shortly after breakfast as they all had to get ready to go to church. Yeah, that’s right, church.

  But before they left Kristi asked, “Do you really want to be a model?”

  And I said, “No. My mom really wants me to be a model.”

  Then Kayla goes, “Rio, you should totally do it.”

  And Jen Jen goes, “Totally. You’re definitely tall enough, and pretty enough.”

  And then they smiled at me—but just the two of them.

  Kristi just stared.

  On Monday I rode to school with Kayla and Jen Jen because Kristi had a tooth-whitening appointment with her dentist. And like the minute we got out of the car JC was all over me acting like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend or something, which is kind of weird ‘cause I thought the whole point of hooking up was so you could ignore each other afterward and not act all committed.

  So when I find him waiting for me at my locker after English, I’m thinking I really need to have a talk with him and explain how I just want to be friends. But then he puts his arm around me and goes, “Where to?”

  And I go, “I have Art now.”

  And he goes, “I’ll walk you.”

  Then right when I’m about to say, “No, don’t walk me,” I change my mind. I let him walk me to class, with his arm around me the whole time. And I even let him kiss me right in front of the door, for as long as it takes for Jas to walk up and say, “Uh, excuse me.”

  Then we break apart and JC goes, “Sorry, bro.”

  And I giggle, and wipe my mouth, and go, “See you at lunch, JC!” loud enough for Jas to hear.

  Then I walk inside the classroom and sit at my desk. And when I glance over at Jas (just to see his reaction), his eyes are so full of disapproval that it really pisses me off. Because it wasn’t that long ago when I was forced to sit in the backseat and watch Monique’s hands go on a scavenger hunt in Jas’s pants! And it’s not like he tried to stop it or anything. So excuse me for trying to have a little fun of my own. I mean, what gives him the right to judge me?

  Twenty-four

  I’m JC’s girlfriend. Don’t ask me why or how, because I’m still not sure what happened. It seems that in a world of random hook ups meant to go nowhere, I ended up with a boyfriend. And since I’ve never had a boyfriend before I decided to just ride it out for the experience.

  And even though JC isn’t really my type (I mean he kinda has that all-American Nick Lachey look when I mostly go for that dark, smoldering Johnny Depp thing), everyone else thinks he’s completely hot.

  So I guess I should feel lucky.

  But our conversations aren’t exactly thrilling. I mean, we really don’t have much to talk about (unless you count the day we discovered we use the same hair products), and it seems like all he wants to do is make out, watch sports, play sports, and talk about sports he’s watched and played. Which, quite frankly, gets a little boring.

  And even though the making out part isn’t so bad, I totally draw the line at “real” sex because no way am I doing that with him. I mean, it’s not like he doesn’t try (like every single time we’re alone), but I refuse to give in. I’m holding out for love.

  Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the attention I get from being his girlfriend.

  Because I do.

  It just feels really great to be part of something that everyone wishes they were part of. It’s like VIP status all the time. It’s like the ultimate backstage pass.

  On the outside we’re like the perfect couple. I mean, the whole school thinks we’re adorable, and JC is constantly talking about how great we look together. And just the other day Jen Jen said we were single-handedly making a totally archaic idea like going steady cool again. And Kayla said that if we’re still together in late spring we’ll definitely get voted “Cutest Junior Class Couple.”

  But Kristi just rolled her eyes.

  And even though it really bugged me when she did that, there’s this part of me that totally agreed. Not to be mean, but JC isn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. It’s like, earlier, when I was making my point about smart guys and prom queens—well now I feel like I’m caught in this weird reversal where I’m the brainiac and he’s the prom queen, like I’m Nick and he’s Jessica, like I’m Exhibit D. And it’s really starting to bug me.

  But my days are so full now with all of the important school activities, that I had no choice but to drop out of the art show. I mean, I just don’t have time for that anymore with all the clubs, games, and parties I have to attend.

  So one day I just walked right up to Ms. Tate’s desk and told her that I was sorry, but I just didn’t have time to help out, but that of course I would still hand in my assignment. She gave me kind of a sad look, but whatever.

  Then I walked over to another table and took a seat. I don’t know why I didn’t think I could do that before, because it was so easy. So now I don’t have to look at Jas and Mason unless I accidentally look at the other side of the room. And believe me, I only made that mistake once.

  In addition to everything else, my relationship with my mom is way better. We go shopping more, and instead of fighting her all the time, now I listen to her advice on clothes and stuff. And because of it, Jen Jen said that if I keep it up, then for sure I’ll get voted “Best Dressed” when we’re seniors.

  It’s weird too because a lot of girls at school, including Jen Jen and Kayla, have started to dress like me. They even copy my hair, bleaching theirs blond and wearing it all long and wavy, and for Kayla that means extra highlights and getting up even earlier to use a curling iron. At first it really annoyed me, but then my mom said, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” So I should be flattered.

  And I am.

  But it still kind of bugs me.

  I guess you could say that my life is going really, really great. I hardly ever think about Paige and Hud, or that stupid crush I had on Jas. I mean, why would I? That seems like such a long time ago, like it happened to another person or something.

  Looking back, it al
l just seems so juvenile.

  After school, I’m being a dutiful girlfriend, and sitting in the bleachers pretending like I’m watching JC’s basketball practice (but really I’m just zoning-out), and when Tyler (who is like the mega-hot senior guy) runs by, he smiles and winks at me.

  And it gets me thinking: Hmmmmmm.

  Then Kristi turns and punches me in the arm and goes, “Did he just wink at you?”

  “He most certainly did.” I smile.

  “Well, doesn’t he know you’re dating JC?”

  I just shrug.

  She continues staring at me with narrowed eyes.

  But I ignore her.

  After practice we all go back to Kristi’s and lay out by the pool (even though it’s only March and it’s still snowing in New York). I’m all shiny with oil and lying faceup on this beige padded lounge chair, and I just want to close my eyes, relax, and enjoy the last half hour of sun.

  But then JC comes over and goes, “Hey, come swim with me.”

  “Not now,” I say, keeping my eyes firmly shut, hoping he’ll go away.

  But he ignores that, and starts pulling on my foot, “Come on. The pool’s heated,” he says.

  “You’re blocking my rays and disturbing my peace.” I open one eye and look at him. But when I see his hurt expression, I smile to soften the blow.

  Well, that was a mistake. Because he leans down, picks me up off my towel, and throws me smack into the deep end. Then he jumps in after me. And while we’re both underwater he starts groping me. And when I open my eyes and look at him, hair standing on end, eyes stinging from chlorine, I can’t help thinking how bored I am, and how I’d much rather be with Tyler. I mean, I’m really getting tired of our dumb conversations and the way he hangs all over me.

  So when my head pops out of the water right after his, I kiss him quickly on the cheek and swim away as fast as I can. But he catches right up to me. And just as I’m grabbing onto the edge, he forces me to turn around so he can kiss me for real. When he’s done, he looks right at me and says, “I love you.”

  But I don’t say anything. I just duck back underwater and swim to the other side without once taking a breath.

  Later, we’re up in Kristi’s room, and it’s just the girls since she made the guys leave before her mom and stepdad came home. I’m lying on the chaise next to her window when I go, “You guys, JC told me he loved me.”

  Kayla’s eyes go wide. “When?”

  “In the pool.”

  And Jen Jen goes, “Oh, my god, that is so totally sweet.”

  I just shrug and look at the ceiling.

  Kristi looks at me closely. “Well, what did you say?”

  Then I tell them how I didn’t respond.

  Kayla and Jen Jen just look at me with their mouths hanging open, but Kristi goes, “It was probably the beer talking. He tossed one back when you were changing. I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure he doesn’t really love you.”

  And when we look at each other, part of me hopes she’s right. But the other part is kind of pissed at her response.

  Twenty-five

  The next day I’m walking home from school. Can you believe it? The most popular girl in the junior class (okay, after Kristi) is walking. I mean, Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen all had individual family obligations, JC left school early ‘cause he’s spending the weekend at his dad’s place in Palm Springs, and my mom is in L.A. being photographed by Mario Saldana.

  It was supposed to be me, but I just couldn’t go through with it. It’s like, despite all the other changes in my life, the one thing that remains the same is that I don’t want to be a model. So I told her I wasn’t ready, which didn’t really make her back off. So then I spoke in a language that she could understand. I told her I was feeling too fat to be photographed.

  “Well, you don’t just cancel an appointment with Mario Saldana!” she said. “He is very much in demand. Michael did us a huge favor by setting this up!”

  But I just shrugged and said, “So why don’t you go instead?”

  And right after she scowled at me, her eyes lit up. Then she picked up the phone.

  Apparently they’re collaborating on a possible comeback.

  Great.

  So I’ve only covered about a block since the bell rang (because it’s hard to walk fast when you’re busy feeling sorry for yourself), when this black SUV with dark tinted windows pulls up next to me.

  I don’t recognize the car so I pick up the pace, hoping it’s not some pervert intending on making me the next Amber Alert, when I hear someone go, “Hey, slow down.”

  And when I look over I see purposely messy blondish brown hair, big blue eyes, and like the sexiest smile ever. It’s Tyler. So I don’t just slow down, I stop.

  “Where you going?” He smiles.

  “Home.”

  Then he leans all the way across the seat and opens the door. “Get in, I’ll take you.”

  I don’t even hesitate. I just slide in next to him.

  “Why are you walking?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.

  “Everyone’s busy, and I don’t have my license yet,” I say, staring at his gorgeousness while wishing he’d turn down that stupid Eminem CD.

  “You’re kidding? How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.” I bite my lower lip and rub my arm, ‘cause I’m feeling kind of nervous.

  “Don’t you at least have a permit?”

  I shake my head.

  “Have you ever driven?”

  I shrug.

  “Wanna learn?”

  “Okay” I say, assuming he means sometime in the distant future.

  But he pulls over right then and goes, “Ready for your first lesson?”

  By the time he dropped me off (after teaching me the basics and letting me drive for a block or two, he wisely took over again), I was convinced it was time to break up with JC.

  And after he leaned over and kissed me good-bye, I was positive.

  “See you Monday?” he asks, his face still close to mine.

  I’m so overwhelmed I don’t trust my own voice. I just bite down on my lower lip and nod. Then I get out of the car, run into the house, and try to instant message Kristi, Kayla, and Jen Jen. But they’re not online. So I call. But they don’t answer. So I send a group e-mail.

  Then I lie back on my bed and try to close my eyes, and replay everything that happened with Tyler. But I’m so full of energy that I can’t lie still. So I keep trying to call my friends, over and over and over again, but no one answers.

  And then right when I give up, the phone rings. So I pick it up and go, “Hello!”

  But it’s only JC. “Do you miss me?”

  “Um, yeah, sure,” I say.

  “That didn’t sound very convincing,” he says, laughing nervously. But I don’t say anything. I just sit there, trying to think of a good excuse to get off the phone. Because talking to him makes me feel guilty.

  “Rio? Are you there?”

  “Um, yeah. But my mom needs me to help her with something so I have to go.” Then I hang up before he can say anything else.

  By the time my mom does come home I’m exhausted. I took all that guilt-fueled nervous energy and put it into finishing my homework, organizing all of my drawers, and rearranging my entire closet. And now as she sits on the edge of my bed going on and on about her stupid photo shoot, I can barely keep my eyes open.

  She leans across the duvet, pats me on the knee and goes, “Poor baby, you’re really overbooking yourself these days, aren’t you?”

  I just nod.

  And after that I can’t remember.

  My dad got home really early on Saturday morning, having taken the red-eye from New York. Usually when he does that, he heads straight upstairs for a nap since he says he can never really sleep on the plane. But this time when I came downstairs for breakfast he was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and reading the paper while my mom was upstairs showering.

  “Hey, kiddo,”
he says.

  “Hey,” I say, feeling groggy.

  “I thought we could go over to Roger’s Gardens today and pick up some more plants for the back.” He smiles.

  I pour myself a cup of coffee and go, “I can’t. I’ve got a paper I’ve got to finish by Monday.”

  “We’ll only be gone for an hour or two,” he says, trying to convince me.

  “Yeah, well, I really gotta get this done.” I feel kinda bad about not wanting to hang out with him like I used to but it’s not my fault he’s never here when I need him.

  I hop onto the counter, and I’m sitting there drinking my coffee when he goes, “So how’s your art project coming along?”

  “Okay.” I shrug.

  “Just okay? I thought you were really excited about it. I thought this art show was some kind of big deal?” He looks at me closely.

  “Well, it turns out it’s really not that big a deal,” I tell him. “It’s actually pretty small-time. So while I’m still turning in a project for a grade, I’m not submitting anything for the show. And I’m not helping to organize it either. I’m just superbusy with bigger things.”

  He looks at me and nods. But there’s something more in his eyes that I don’t really want to see. So I quickly finish my coffee, place the mug in the dishwasher, and go back upstairs to my room.

  On Sunday night, after I finish my paper, I go to Kristi’s. Kayla and Jen Jen are already there, and I’m really starting to regret that e-mail I sent, because now that two days have passed, the thrill of being kissed by Tyler has pretty much worn off.

  Yeah, I still think he’s totally hot, but the fact is I already have a boyfriend. And even though it was just one kiss, I know JC would be totally crushed if he ever found out. I mean, he told me he loves me! But I just don’t love him, and I know we should probably break up before things go any farther, but I don’t really know how to do it without hurting him.