year,” Bailey sympathized.
“I was really hating it, but I have to say I feel so much better after meeting you guys today. I was afraid I wouldn’t meet anyone cool.”
Lauren’s smile spread slowly across her face and both Bailey and Kyla sat up straighter. Flattery will get you everywhere. Add this to the secrets of popularity: Popular girls are insecure. They act like they aren’t, but they are, and a bit of kissing up never hurts.
“Give me your number. We go out all the time. We’ll text you and let you know where to meet up with us next time if you want,” Kyla said.
“That would be great.” I scribbled my number down and passed it over to them. I could tell the people at the tables around us were paying attention to the exchange. Lincoln High’s caste system was looking to slot me where I belonged. The way I wasdressed helped, and being from New York was a bonus for sure, but what was slotting me into place more than anything else was the fact that the three most popular senior girls wanted to hang out with me. It wasn’t even the end of lunch and the popularity project was already a success.
Chapter Ten
I pushed open the bathroom door and heard a juicy sniffle and then silence. I peeked under each of the stall doors. Only the last one had anyone in it—brown, lace-up shoes that looked like they belonged on an orphan in a Third World country. I knew it.
I heard the smothered sound of a choked-back sob. There is no dignity in having a good cry in a public bathroom. My stomach sank as I remembered what the last two weeks of my eighth grade year had been like. I tapped on the stall door with a fingernail.
“Brenda?” I asked softly. She didn’t say anything, but I heard another sniffle from behind the stall door. “Brenda, I know it’s you. I recognize your shoes. Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
My eyebrows went up in disbelief. Brenda was a lousy liar.
“You’re not okay. You’re crying.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“Look, I’m sorry about the lunch thing. I should have waited for you at my locker.”
Brenda didn’t say anything.
“I met those girls in one of my classes and they invited me to eat with them.”
“And you would rather eat with them than me. It’s fine. I understand. I totally understand.”
“You don’t understand. There is way more going on than you’re imagining. It has nothing to do with you.”
“It never does,” she said, and then gave a loud blow on her nose.
“Look, come out of there so we can talk.”
“No.”
I tapped on the door a bit more firmly this time. “You have to come out, classes are going to start.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she said.
“You’re supposed to be my buddy, Brenda. Locking yourself in the bathroom and refusing to talk to me is almost certainly against the buddy code.”
“Stop making fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m trying to apologize, but it’s sort of hard to do talking to a bathroom door.”
“Fine, you’ve apologized. You can go now.”
I backed up and leaned against the sink, thinking over my options:
1. Leave Brenda . I just met the girl. It wasn’t my responsibility to make sure she was okay. I was here for revenge, not to be the Mother Teresa for unpopular girls.
2. Do something nice . It wouldn’t kill me to be nice to her. It wasn’t that long ago that I was the one crying in the bathroom. Besides, no one could see us in here. It wasn’t like she was going to derail my popularity plan.
I sighed and got down on my knees, then lay down on the cool tiles and slid my head under her stall door. Brenda looked down at me. Her eyes were red and swollen.
“What are you doing?” she sputtered. For a second I thought she might step on my face as if I were a bug, but instead she scooted over so she was as far away from me as she could get without climbing onto the toilet.
“You don’t think I’m serious. I really am sorry. I’m lying on a disgusting bathroom
“I was really hating it, but I have to say I feel so much better after meeting you guys today. I was afraid I wouldn’t meet anyone cool.”
Lauren’s smile spread slowly across her face and both Bailey and Kyla sat up straighter. Flattery will get you everywhere. Add this to the secrets of popularity: Popular girls are insecure. They act like they aren’t, but they are, and a bit of kissing up never hurts.
“Give me your number. We go out all the time. We’ll text you and let you know where to meet up with us next time if you want,” Kyla said.
“That would be great.” I scribbled my number down and passed it over to them. I could tell the people at the tables around us were paying attention to the exchange. Lincoln High’s caste system was looking to slot me where I belonged. The way I wasdressed helped, and being from New York was a bonus for sure, but what was slotting me into place more than anything else was the fact that the three most popular senior girls wanted to hang out with me. It wasn’t even the end of lunch and the popularity project was already a success.
Chapter Ten
I pushed open the bathroom door and heard a juicy sniffle and then silence. I peeked under each of the stall doors. Only the last one had anyone in it—brown, lace-up shoes that looked like they belonged on an orphan in a Third World country. I knew it.
I heard the smothered sound of a choked-back sob. There is no dignity in having a good cry in a public bathroom. My stomach sank as I remembered what the last two weeks of my eighth grade year had been like. I tapped on the stall door with a fingernail.
“Brenda?” I asked softly. She didn’t say anything, but I heard another sniffle from behind the stall door. “Brenda, I know it’s you. I recognize your shoes. Are you okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
My eyebrows went up in disbelief. Brenda was a lousy liar.
“You’re not okay. You’re crying.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“Look, I’m sorry about the lunch thing. I should have waited for you at my locker.”
Brenda didn’t say anything.
“I met those girls in one of my classes and they invited me to eat with them.”
“And you would rather eat with them than me. It’s fine. I understand. I totally understand.”
“You don’t understand. There is way more going on than you’re imagining. It has nothing to do with you.”
“It never does,” she said, and then gave a loud blow on her nose.
“Look, come out of there so we can talk.”
“No.”
I tapped on the door a bit more firmly this time. “You have to come out, classes are going to start.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she said.
“You’re supposed to be my buddy, Brenda. Locking yourself in the bathroom and refusing to talk to me is almost certainly against the buddy code.”
“Stop making fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m trying to apologize, but it’s sort of hard to do talking to a bathroom door.”
“Fine, you’ve apologized. You can go now.”
I backed up and leaned against the sink, thinking over my options:
1. Leave Brenda . I just met the girl. It wasn’t my responsibility to make sure she was okay. I was here for revenge, not to be the Mother Teresa for unpopular girls.
2. Do something nice . It wouldn’t kill me to be nice to her. It wasn’t that long ago that I was the one crying in the bathroom. Besides, no one could see us in here. It wasn’t like she was going to derail my popularity plan.
I sighed and got down on my knees, then lay down on the cool tiles and slid my head under her stall door. Brenda looked down at me. Her eyes were red and swollen.
“What are you doing?” she sputtered. For a second I thought she might step on my face as if I were a bug, but instead she scooted over so she was as far away from me as she could get without climbing onto the toilet.
“You don’t think I’m serious. I really am sorry. I’m lying on a disgusting bathroom
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