A Formal Affair by Veronica Chambers

entitled to be queen of this and queen of that just because they have blond hair and blue eyes and fit the preppy, popular-girl mold.”
    Carmen shook her head, incredulous. “As if! Carolina isn’t a cookie-cutter popular girl. She’s no SoBee. She isn’t a cheerleader. She’s president of an environmental group. Being queen of the winter formal is something she’s wanted from the time she was a little girl. Patricia is just being a hater by entering at such a late date.”
    Alicia held up her hands. “As entertaining as it is to watch you two go at it like four-year-olds, this is bad for business. You need to let Patricia and Carolina handle their own campaigns. Our job is to keep them focused on one thing and one thing only: the most important day of their lives—their quinceañera . Case closed.”
    Carmen and Jamie exchanged hard looks. Alicia’s advice was sound, but neither of them had any intention of backing down. They were only just beginning.
    After lunch, Carmen raced across the quad to her next class. She had so much to do that her head was spinning. There was a winter formal meeting at 3:15. Then, at 5:30, a meeting with the Reinoso cousins was on tap, and after that it was home to tackle a paper comparing identity and depiction of self in the poetry of Walt Whitman and Willie Perdomo. Just thinking about it all made her tired.
    Somehow, she had managed to make it to her next class. But try as she might to pay attention, the exhaustion was just too much, and she let out a huge yawn. Unfortunately, it was at that very moment that her advanced biology teacher, Mr. Julian, walked by her desk.
    â€œAm I boring you, Ms. Ramirez-Ruben?” he asked. “I do try so very hard to be interesting.”
    Carmen sighed. If she had had a dime for every time a teacher used that Am I boring you? line, she’d have been as rich as a celebutante. Didn’t teachers remember what high school was like? How the mad rush of classes and papers and activities and a part-time job could run a girl ragged?
    Obviously not. Carmen shook her head and smiled sweetly. “I apologize, Mr. Julian.” Luckily he seemed to be in a forgiving mood and simply nodded. He walked away, continuing his scintillating lecture on one-celled organisms.
    When what seemed like eons later, the bell finally rang, Carmen snapped her book shut and took off again across the quad as fast as her legs would carry her.
    The SoBees were sitting at the snack bar all dressed up in matching Palm Beach–style sundresses. Judging by the way they languorously sipped their lattes, it was as if they’d been sitting in the quad all afternoon without a care in the world.
    â€œHow’d you get here so fast?” Carmen asked, out of breath and feeling closer to gym-class sweaty than she would have liked.
    The SoBees smiled pityingly. While Carmen was nearly six feet tall, the SoBees had a way of making her feel as if she were back in the third grade and the smallest kid in the class.
    â€œWe never sign up for a class during last period,” Maya explained, as she multitasked, reapplying a fuschia lip gloss while flipping through the pages of People magazine.
    â€œBut you’ve got to take something,” Carmen asked, confused.
    â€œDuh. We have study hall,” Dorinda explained. “Two p.m. study hall is monitored by Mrs. Clarke, and she never takes attendance.”
    April piped up. “That way, if we’ve got to bounce early—to go shopping or to spin class or to meet up with some hotties from another school, then we can be out, no prob.”
    â€œWow,” Carmen said, taking this information in. Some kids seemed born gaming the system, and clearly, the SoBees could count that among their many charming skills. “I’ll be right back.”
    Carmen walked over to the quad snack bar and bought herself a soda. Not the healthiest thing in the world, but she needed the