Flipping the Script (29 page)

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Authors: Paula Chase

BOOK: Flipping the Script
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From
That's What's Up!
Waking the Sleeping Giant
“They hate to see you doing better than them.”
—Field Mob ft. Ciara, “So What”
 
 
J
essica Johnson glowered.
She stood mannequin-still in the school's long hallway at the floor-to-ceiling glass panes surrounding the fishbowl—the café, Del Rio Bay High's outdoor Beautiful People Only section of the cafeteria. Her eyes, focused like hazel laser beams, glared catlike in her coffee-bean complexioned face.
She couldn't take them off the scene outside.
About forty people milled around the square, no larger than two average-sized bedrooms. Some huddled around the five tall bistro tables—sometimes six people deep. Others stood atop the sandy-colored concrete benches that anchored the corners, while still others were content leaning against one of the two brick walls that enclosed the area. So used to being gawked at from the hall or cafeteria windows, no one paid her much mind. Everyone was enjoying the budding warmth of the early spring—many going jacketless in the fifty-degree Maryland day.
Winter had been short but fierce. Two ice storms had walloped the area, closing school for a total of seven days in February and nearly sending everyone stir crazy from cabin fever. Fifty degrees was almost hot in comparison, the open air addicting.
The thick glass made it impossible for Jess to distinguish any conversations, but she could almost feel the buzz of the various rowdy discussions. Now and then a loud laugh or exclamation would erupt from one of the hubs. Jess assumed it was loud—it had to be if she could hear it from inside. She imagined that the talk was of the Extreme Beach Nationals, the big cheerleading competition taking place in a week, who was heading down to Ocean City with who, which hotel people were staying at and what madness they could get into with their parents lingering nearby.
Typical day in the café, the school's powers discussing who and what was important in DRB High land, in their own version of politicking and strategizing.
The café, twenty feet wide, twenty feet across, and accessible by a single door at the far end of the cafeteria, was nothing more than an island of concrete surrounded by a patch of grass just wide enough to be a pain for the maintenance crew to cut. But it was the students' slice of heaven. No teachers patrolled it. And nobodies stayed away from its door, choosing instead to a) act like the café didn't exist or matter, or b) gaze inside from the windows, like Jess was doing now.
Only she wasn't a nobody. Jess was a café regular, an Upper whose right it was to lounge in the café at her leisure during lunch.
And until that very second, the café had been Jessica's safe haven from wannabes and nobodies, specifically the one wannabe nobody who annoyed her more than anyone in the world ... Mina Mooney.
Jessica's eyes squeezed into slits, piercing Mina from the shadows of the hall as Mina's head bobbed up and down excitedly, deep in conversation with Kim, the varsity cheer captain, and Sara, Jessica's twin.
Seeing Mina there, all smiles and grins enjoying life in the fishbowl, shouldn't have jolted Jessica. But the flash of heat she felt boiling in her chest was anger—pure and powerful. It grew as she remembered how lightly Sara had mentioned Mina's new “status.”
“I was telling Mina that we're gonna kill it at the Extreme,” Sara had said, bubbling with a mix of anxiety and excitement at the thought of Nationals.
“Look, I know you two cheer together now, but I'm over hearing you talk about
her
,” Jessica snapped. She tossed her hair, a well-kept straight weave that hung just below her shoulders, a ludicrous auburn that almost shimmered next to Jess's dark face, and fixed her twin with a defiant stare.
Sara's light cocoa-complexioned cheeks darkened slightly as the crimson spread through her face. But her voice was neutral as she answered, “I know you guys don't get along.” She hesitated for a second, then swallowed a sigh before finishing. “Nothing I say will matter, will it? You love to hate Mina.”
Jessica laughed, her dark face brightening at Sara's truthful declaration. “Yup. I do.”
“Well ... you know Kim and I invited her to sit in the café, right?” Sara cleared her throat as if admitting it out loud had dried her mouth.
Jessica's smile quickly turned into a sour-lemon scowl and this time Sara's mouth did dry out. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she quickly added, “We have a lot of cheer strategy to go over. So you know ... I mean, you knew Mina was going to get the call to the café eventually, Jess. She's the JV cheer captain ... she ...”
“Is a total wannabe, Sara,” Jessica huffed. Her finger wagged in Sara's face like she was lecturing a young child, something she did often to her twin when it came to social etiquette. “I know you like hanging out with any and everybody. But Mina is ... the way she rolls with her ...” Jessica rolled her eyes and sneered, “clique.” She shook her head as if warding off some sort of bad word cooties. “Like they're running things at DRB High.” Her next words were thick with venom. “I hate how she thinks her little Miss Nice-Nice act is going to make everyone like her.”
Sara giggled. “So let me get this right.You hate her because she's
nice
?” hadn't bothered Jess. She knew that sitting in the café didn't mean much to Sara. Neither did DRB High's whole social hierarchy thing. So it was easy for Sara to dismiss it all as silly or ridiculous. But it wasn't silly to Jess. She rolled with the Glams, the snotty, mostly rich kids, and took her status as a member of the ruling class serious, deadly serious. It hit Jessica where it hurt that Mina—neither rich nor snotty—had always managed to sniggle her way in with the right circles.
Jess had tried, God knows she had, to keep her out. She'd even tried to get her schedule switched around so she'd have the same lunch as Mina this semester, solely to keep Mina on the outside of the fishbowl. None of it made any sense to Sara, who considered Mina a friend. She'd once told Jess, all she wanted was for Jess and Mina to peacefully coexist in the same circles at DRB High.
Peacefully coexist, huh?
Jess thought, already nurturing the seed into an idea.
She stared through the thick glass, registering back to the present just as Brian James walked over to the table where Mina sat. He was cute with a capital C, his toffee complexion smooth, eyebrows thick, soft brown eyes accented by thick lashes and a head full of hair so black and curly it made Jess's fingers squirm at the thought of touching it. He stood behind Mina's chair, his six-foot-three frame towering easily over the three-foot high wrought-iron bar chairs, and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Jess averted her eyes from Mina's insanely idiotic grin and focused on Brian. He was telling a joke, she guessed, because all the cheerleaders at the table giggled and Sara gave him a high five. Just as quickly as he came, he whispered something in Mina's ear (more insane teeth-grinding grinning) and sauntered over to a table where a few gaming geeks (award-winning gamers, of course) happily welcomed him into their conversation.
Jess closed her eyes and tried to block out the image of that wide, “I'm such a lucky girl” grin on Mina's face. She tried to force the one word that kept coming up, to describe Mina, back into the far reaches of her mind.
It couldn't be.
Mina was not, could not be ... an Upper.
No!
True, she was sitting in the café and was dating one of the school's hottest guys. Jess didn't even want to think about Mina's sudden fame as the high-school's “Pop” reporter, as people were calling her since she'd snagged the position as writer of her own column, “Pop Life,” which showcased the school's up-and-coming stars. Some people were even courting Mina, hoping to get a little ink in “Pop Life.”
Blegh!
It was definitely a ridiculous level of freshman beginner's luck. But it didn't make her an Upper, necessarily. Far as Jess was concerned, Mina was popular by association and Jess was being generous by admitting that much.
No, Mina wasn't officially an Upper yet. And if Jessica had anything to do with it, Mina never would be ... not while they roamed the halls of DRB High together, anyway.
If Mina wanted popularity she'd have to go through Jess first.
Popularity cost, and Jess was going to make sure Mina paid dearly.
From
Who You Wit'?
The Fifteen-Minute Make-Out
“I hate how much I love you boy.”
—Rihanna ft. Ne-Yo, “Hate That I Love You”
 
 
I
t feels too good.
It feels too good.
It feels too good.
Lizzie chanted to herself to break the spell of the warm frenzy building between her and Todd as he nibbled at her ear and stroked her side. Her breath hitched. Every time she attempted to move an inch or say something to slow the rush, he'd do something magical with his fingers or lips.
She tried again, managing to move her head an inch.
Victory.
She parted her lips to say something (anything), and Todd's lips moved to hers. She instinctively kissed him back, rolling the icy cool taste of Orbit spearmint around her tongue, savoring it. It was hard to chew gum now without thinking of Todd and flushing.
As a matter-of-fact, it was hard to do a lot of things without thinking of Todd.
The realization struck her dumb.
No matter how hard she tried, it was hard to connect that a practical, straight A, theatre geek like her not only had a serious boyfriend, but a popular, honest-to-goodness hot guy as well.
Six-foot one; blue eyes; unruly, light walnuty hair highlighted blond; and ready with a joke the second he opened his mouth, Todd had a hot surfer dude look going. Truth be told, even when he let the blond grow out, he was easy on the eyes. He was also a full member of Club Six-Pack. And his biceps and chest weren't bad, either. If Lizzie hadn't seen his body change with her own eyes, she would have never believed someone could go from skinny to sculpted in two years.
Yet it still took her by surprise when girls went out of their way to flirt with him or give her nasty looks when she and Todd walked down the hall together. To her, he was still the goofy, too skinny T who used to shadow JZ like a puppy when they were ten years old. Because of that, and their middle school friendship, she and Todd were a comfortable couple. She never felt self-conscious around him because whenever her nerves would attempt a takeover, like worrying that she had food stuck in her teeth and she had to get it off before he saw it, Todd would poke fun at it, reminding her that he didn't care about her being the perfect girl.
Everyone seemed to know Todd was hot, except Todd.
That made it easy to get caught up in his charm.
Except ... Lizzie wasn't ready to be completely gaga.
She was changing, and some of the changes felt good. Really good, in fact.
But mostly, they were unsettling. Like now. Why couldn't she open her mouth to say, “Hey, let's take a break?”
How come her brain was directing her body to move, get up, put some space between her and Todd, and her body wouldn't obey?
Todd was becoming a priority in ways Lizzie had always secretly vowed no guy ever would.
Flubbing lines in theatre when he popped into her mind. Getting a B on her Chem test after their first real argument—she didn't recognize herself sometimes.
But things were about to take a turn if all went according to plan.
Todd's kisses rained down on her in quick pecks, like a yappy dog nipping at her heel. She met his lips with her own slow, but firm kisses encouraging him to gel with her, easing him back a little until their kissing was in sync. Her resolve melted. It always did around the twelve-minute make-out mark. Instead of panicking that things were going too far, Lizzie gave in, savoring Todd's warm breath on her neck, ears, then his lips on hers.
Step one of her plan would kick in in exactly five ...
Todd's tongue darted in her mouth for a quick visit, then was gone.
Four...
His hands pushed her shirt up just enough so Lizzie could feel their coolness on her warm belly.
Three ...
He stroked her waist, careful not to go near her armpit (he'd learned the hard way that she'd burst into a fit of giggles, busting up the mood) but working closer to her bra.
Two ...
Lizzie inhaled sharply as his hands made soft, smooth circles on her belly.
One ...
Todd's fingers were on the front clasp of her bra just as Lizzie's cell phone blared “One” from
A Chorus Line,
filling the room,“One, singular sensation, ev'ry little step she takes.”
Todd hesitated for a fleeting second.
Lizzie pushed herself upright. Her chest heaved as she ran her fingers through her tousled hair.
Todd's eyes, wide with surprise, skated from Lizzie to the phone in confusion.
Lizzie kneeled against the sofa, picked the phone up, and turned off the alarm she'd set right before she and Todd began making out. She was getting so good at doing it, fingers flying to set it before the kissing began, he never noticed. Smiling, she dipped her head and bunched her cascade of blond hair into a quick and dirty ponytail before standing up. She put her hand out to help Todd up from the floor.
His long body unfolded into a standing position where he towered a full foot over Lizzie.
“Dude, I hate your phone.” Todd shook his head, eyeing the phone with disdain. “It rings every time we ...” He dropped down onto the sofa dramatically, pouting.
Lizzie pretended to check the missed call, even though there was none. “It's Mina. JZ should be here any minute to get us,” she practically sang, giddy that once more, her fifteen-minute make-out alarm had done its job.
Todd ran his fingers through his unruly locks, gathering himself. He looked shell-shocked and Lizzie almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
She felt (a little) bad for having to trick him, but she couldn't trust herself anymore to untangle herself from the increasingly hot and heavy make-outs. At some point, they were going to stop working. Either Todd was going to throw her phone out the window—he was eyeing it now like he wanted to—or simply not let her jump up like someone had lit her pants on fire to check it.
She knew the day was coming. That's why it was time for the virginity pact.
Satisfied with herself, she plopped down beside a silent and pouty Todd.
“I'm starved.You?”
“Yeah, but not for pizza,” Todd said, making googly eyes at her.
Lizzie planted a prim peck on his lips, allowing it to turn into a bit more before pulling away. Todd reached out to pull her back, but Lizzie was up in a flash, laughing as his hand swiped her tee shirt, catching only air.
He scowled, chiding her playfully. “Tease.”
“Sucker.” She sprinted clumsily as he chased her up the stairs.
The door bell rang as they reached the landing.
She hadn't planned it, but the cavalry had arrived right on time anyway.

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