How to Win at High School (8 page)

Oh man, is he thinking about it.

Adam Higgs is a seventeen-year-old virgin—

(never kissed a girl)

—suddenly surrounded by four of the hottest girls at Nixon. Four of the hottest girls he's ever talked to.

(Hell, four of the hottest girls he's ever
seen
.)

Is he gonna hook up with them? Even Sam wants to know. Adam shows Sam Sara Bryant's Facebook profile on his computer.

“God damn,” Sam says. “You weren't lying.”

“Right?” Adam says.
“Right?”

Sam doesn't meet many girls anymore, Adam's pretty sure. The wheelchair and that ugly doughnut shop uniform scare them all off.

Even his nurse isn't that good-looking.

(She comes by a few times a week to help Sam out with showering and, like, paralyzed-people stuff.)

But Sam's not a virgin. His life isn't that shitty. Adam walked in on him once, just before the accident. He was hooking up with Lesley Taylor, this smoking-hot Riverside cheerleader.

Sometimes Adam thinks about Lesley Taylor and what she and Sam were doing, and sometimes he thinks he'd
still
maybe trade his life for Sam's, even knowing what Sam's life has become.

(He's usually pretty horny when he's thinking this way.)

(But if you saw Lesley Taylor, you'd think about trading your legs for a night with her too.)

(Anyway.)

Anyway, Adam's been thinking about hooking up with these goddesses. He's been thinking about it a lot, if you catch my drift.

But what's a guy like Adam to do? It's not like he's Paul Nolan—

(yet).

It's not like he's Alton Di Sousa or Rob Thigpen—

(yet).

He's Adam Higgs.

He's—

(still)

—the Pizza Man.

Anyway, before Adam can embarrass himself by asking Jessie McGill—

(or Leanne Grayson)

(or Janie Ng)

(or Sara
freaking
Bryant)

—on a date,

well,

Victoria Lemieux happens.

It's, like, a Friday.

Alton Di Sousa's at Adam's locker. “Pizza Man,” Alton says. “I need you.”

Adam looks at Alton. Adam wants to tell Alton his name is Adam, not Pizza Man. But Alton is the starting point guard on the Nixon basketball team. Alton is like six foot five.

Plus, Alton has a job for Adam.

“Economics, man,” Alton says. “You know anything about it? Got a lab due on Monday and I totally bailed.”

Adam hesitates. Literally the only thing he knows about economics is:

Ten bucks a page beats minimum wage.

But he doesn't tell Alton that. He tells Alton to show him the assignment. It's all gibberish.

Craaaap.

“I'll pay extra,” Alton says. “Whatever you need to make this worthwhile. I fucked up the last one and they're saying I can't play ball until I get my average straight.

“I
need
this, man,” Alton says.

Adam looks at Alton. From the brand-new Air Jordans on his feet to the big chain around his neck. Alton has money. And Alton
needs
this, man.

Payday.

Except . . .

Adam shakes his head. “Ten bucks a page,” he says. “Normal rates.”

Adam doesn't fleece him. Adam's thinking long-term. Adam's thinking,
Another satisfied customer
.

“Don't sweat it,” Adam says. “Just give me a little warning next time, okay?”

Alton nods.
Okay.

“Good,” Adam says. “Now let me see that textbook.”

Oh yeah.

We're supposed to be talking about Victoria Lemieux.

She's more important than Alton Di Sousa.

By, like, a lot.

So.

Adam's stuffing Alton's economics assignment into his backpack. Thinking his weekend just got a hell of a lot busier.

A hell of a lot more . . .

economical
.

(Sue me.)

Anyway, someone calls out his name. A girl. A pretty girl with long hair, ruler-straight, jet-black.

Victoria Lemieux.

She's a freshman. One of Steph's one hundred new Facebook friends.

“Hey, Adam,” she says from her locker. “Where are you running to?”

Adam shrugs. “History,” he tells her.

“Oh.” Victoria kind of nods, like she's waiting for the punch line. “Cool.”

She's cute, Adam notices.

She's really, really cute.

But Adam figures he knows what's up.

“Listen,” he says. “I don't think I can help you.”

Victoria makes a face. Screws up her nose. It's
cute
. “What are you talking about?”

“You talked to somebody, right?” Adam says. “Sara or Jessie or Paul or somebody? The homework stuff? I just don't think
I could pull off the same stunt for a freshman, you know?”

Victoria cocks her head. Looks at Adam like he just told her he's never heard of Facebook. “I don't know anything about any homework,” she says. “I just wanted to say hi. You're Steph's brother, right?”

(
What?
)

Victoria catches the look on Adam's face. Laughs. “Don't people say hi where you come from?”

“Uh, yeah,” Adam says.

“It's easy. Just say ‘Hi, Victoria.'”

Adam blinks. “Hi, Victoria.”

Victoria smiles back. She has an incredible smile. “Hi, Adam,” she says. “How are you?”

“I'm good,” Adam says slowly. “How are you?”

Victoria laughs. “See?” she says. “You're learning.” She closes her locker. “But I have to get to math class. If you hadn't wasted so much time blabbing, we could have talked more.”

Adam says nothing.

Adam just stares at her.

Victoria giggles. “See you around, Adam.”

“See you,” Adam says. “And, uh,
sorry
.”

Victoria locks her locker and starts off down the hall. “It's okay,” she says, grinning. “You'll figure it out.”

Victoria Lemieux adds Adam on Facebook the next day.

“Ugh,” Steph says when she catches him creeping Victoria's profile. “I would really appreciate if you would stay away from my friends, Adam.”

“She added me, Steph,” Adam says. “So suck it.”

“Gross.” Steph makes a face. “Just don't embarrass me, okay?”

“Victoria Lemieux,” Sam says. “Who is she?”

“One of Steph's friends,” Adam tells him. “I don't really know her, but she's pretty damn cute.”

Sam looks at her Facebook picture. “Yeah, she is.”

“Is she as hot as Sara Bryant?” Adam asks him.

Sam shrugs. “I don't know. Do you like her?”

“I think so,” Adam says. “She's nicer than Sara Bryant, anyway. By a mile.”

“Then go for her,” Sam says. “What do you have to lose, right?”

Adam nods.

Adam shrugs.

If only it were that easy,
Adam thinks.

It's, like, the next Tuesday. Adam's walking down the hall, passes Victoria at her locker. She's talking to some big, dumb-looking guy. A football player, junior varsity.

(Chad something.)

Big, dumb Chad is leaning on Victoria's locker and grinning down at her, and they're laughing and chattering like BFFs.

Or worse.

Figures,
Adam thinks.
She already has a boyfriend.

A football-player boyfriend.

Adam cruises past. Pretends he doesn't see her. He doesn't get away with it. “Don't be such a stranger, Adam,” Victoria calls after him.

Adam turns around. “Oh,” he says. “Hey.” He gives Chad a nod. Chad nods back, big and dumb.

Victoria laughs. “Why're you being so abnormal? We're Facebook friends now. You can't just ignore me.”

Adam gestures to Chad. “Looked like you two were busy.”

“What, with Chad?” Victoria pushes Chad away. “This big dummy just likes to make my life miserable. What are you up to?”

Just then, Leanne Grayson wanders by. “Hey, Adam,” she says. “What's up?”

“Hey, Leanne,” Adam says. Smiles at her as she wanders
off. Turns back around to see:

               
a)
   
Chad's disappeared, and

               
b)
   
Victoria's got a funny look on her face.

“Oh,” she says. “I see how it is. Maybe
you're
too busy for
me
,
friend
.”

“Ha,” Adam says. “It's not like that at all.”

“You mean you're
not
hooking up with Leanne Grayson? You
don't
want to jump her bones?”

Adam glances back at Leanne. She's wandered away. Didn't hear a thing. “We're just friends,” he tells Victoria. “No need to get pervy.”

“So, okay,” Victoria says. “Whose bones
are
you jumping?”

Adam looks at her. “I don't, uh, jump bones. Do you?”

Victoria rolls her eyes. “It's a figure of speech. It wasn't the real question.”

“So what's the real question?”

Victoria shakes her head like Adam has to be the dumbest person in the world. “Come back and see me when you figure it out,” she sighs.

(Sidebar:

That economics thing for Alton?

A real pain in the ass.

See, there's an art to forging homework. You can't just write the perfect paper, not for somebody like Alton Di Sousa—

(career C-student)—

you have to know your client. You have to know how he writes. You have to know he's never pulling an A-plus in his life, and if you mess up and get him one . . .

you're both screwed.

You gotta throw in typos, grammatical errors, mess up some dates. But you can't fuck up too much, or you won't pull the requisite grade.

And in this case, if you mess up Alton's grade, he's off the basketball team.

And it's all

your

fault.

Luckily, Adam
does
know his clientele. He's watched them for months now.

He
idolizes
them.

And anyway, he doesn't know jack shit about economics. It's a miracle he passes, but he does.

A B-minus.

Alton gets to keep playing basketball.

Adam gets a new client.

(And a few gray hairs.) )

“You never answered my question.”

It's Victoria again. In no known universe is Adam getting sick of seeing her.

Of seeing that smile.

She ambushes him in the hall, this time. Sneaks up to his locker and jumps out and surprises him.

(But it's the good kind of surprise.)

“Your question?” he says. “Sure I did. I'm not jumping anyone's bones. I told you that.”

“So you're single,” Victoria says.

Adam shrugs. “As opposed to?”

“As opposed to dating somebody,” she says. “Anyway, that wasn't the real question, and you know it.”

Adam shrugs again. “I don't even know what language you're speaking. Is this some kind of code?”

Victoria shakes her head. “Are you really going to make me do this, Adam Higgs? Do I have to spell it out?”

“Spell it,” Adam tells her. “I'm clueless.”

(He's not clueless, he's just:

in disbelief.

Girls like Victoria Lemieux don't really do this.

Do they?

Do they?
)

Victoria looks around. Speaks slowly, like Adam's a
special-needs kid. “Do you ever go to movies, Adam?”

Adam nods. “Sometimes.”

“Do you ever take girls to movies?”

Adam shrugs. “Not a lot,” he says. Then he catches himself. “I mean, sometimes—”

(Never.)

“Why? Are you . . .”

Victoria: “Wait for it.”

“Are you asking me out?”

She claps her hands. “My god, there
is
life in there. You just got asked out by a freshman girl, slugger. How does that make you feel?”

“Not very manly.”

“Exactly,” she says. “Next time, smarten up. Ask me when I'm free.”

Adam asks her.

“Friday,” she says. “I like horror movies.”

Then she turns and walks off. Halfway down the hall, she turns around. “Make a plan,” she calls back. “Facebook me the details. Pick me up at eight.”

First date.

Adam spends a week's worth of homework money on a new outfit at Abercrombie & Fitch.

Buys that new Hugo Boss cologne.

He smells . . .

Boss
.

Doesn't calm the nerves, though.

This is Victoria Lemieux we're talking about. She has five hundred friends on Facebook. Adam has . . .

Twenty-three.

Huge talent disparity. Adam's out of his league. And he knows it.

“What if I screw everything up?” Adam asks Sam. “What if she realizes what a loser I am?”

They're pregaming at Sam's apartment. Adam's nervous as hell. He's shaky. He's hoping Sam has some last-second tips.

“You're not a loser,” Sam says. “And you're not going to screw everything up. Just be yourself. Be normal.”

“Those are two totally opposite instructions,” Adam tells him. “What if she wants to kiss me? What do I do?”

Sam bursts out laughing. “What do you do if she wants to kiss you? You go with it, obviously. Lean in and kiss her.”

“But how am I supposed to know if she wants to or not?” Adam says. “What if she's not cool with it?”

Sam just laughs.

“I've never done this before,” Adam says. He's starting to freak out in earnest now. “What if I screw up?”