Nice and Mean (21 page)

“You just need to have everything your way.” She dug a hole in the soil so we could stick in the plant. “I'm so over it.”

“I know,” I said. “I'm trying to stop.”

Rachel glanced up at me, then looked quickly back down.

What was that? Was I getting through?

“Oh, fine,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes. “If you need to get your way about everything . . . fine.” She grabbed the plant and plunked it into the hole.

“Fine?” I watched her hands as they buried the top of the plant with dirt. “Fine, like . . . okay?”

She put the cake-top thing over our plant. “Okay.”

Hallelujah!

We piled the leftover things into the shopping basket, wiped off the counter, returned our supplies, and headed over to the sinks.

“So, what was this all about, anyway?” I asked as she washed the tools. “This planting-a-tiny-little-tree thing? What are we supposed to be discovering—just how to grow a plant?”

“It's to see if plants can survive without oxygen.” Rachel wiped her wet hands on a paper towel.

“Oh.” I took my turn at the sink. “They can't. Duh!”

“Actually, they can.” She stepped on the trash-can lever
and threw away her paper towel, then kept her foot down so I could toss mine in after.

“Right,” I said as we headed back to our seats. “I knew that.”

As Ms. Lewis wasted what could have been an actual moment of free time by asking how our labs went, Addie scribbled frantic notes to Rachel. Was Rachel going to backstab me now—use my apology as part of her website? I was trying to think what to write to Rachel in a note of my own when Rachel looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Plebe,” she mouthed, tilting her head toward Addie with a mournful expression.

I laughed into my hand, but part of me thought,
Ouch
. Addie had probably been nice to Rachel the whole time since the Bar Mitzvah, and the minute we made up, Rachel was slamming her? I would never do that to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth! She would be so happy Rachel and I had made up. She'd be my friend again, though, right? Because I had made up with Rachel? I had said bad things to Elizabeth, too, though, I knew. I needed to talk to her.

When the bell rang, Rachel, Addie, and I walked out of science together and stopped short. We'd almost walked right into Señora Blanca.

“Hola, Señorita Glass, Señorita Winter, y Señorita Ling,” she said with a big smile.

“Um, hola,” Rachel and I replied at the same time. The minute Señora passed us, we burst out laughing.

“Oh my God.” Rachel clutched my arm. “Why does she still say hi to us? Does she not know that we hate her?”

I turned to face her at the entrance to the stairwell. “You know, Rach, it's okay to admit that you hang out with her outside of school.”

“What?” Rachel cracked up. “I so do not.”

“Seriously.” I patted her shoulder. “I don't mind if you admit it. Just say, ‘Señora Blanca is my favorite teacher.' ”

“You became her fan online!”

“Only because you recommended her!”

Addie was shaking her head, smiling. “You two are nuts,” she said, and all around us the plebes, the squeegees, and maybe even a few normal people were looking at us like they were thinking the same thing. Drama? Yes. But just the right amount.

SACHI'S VIDEO NIGHTMARE #20.0


INTERIOR. PARIKH APARTMENT—DAY
Sachi arrives home from school. Sachi's mom appears from the living room, solemn.


SACHI'S MOM


Sachi?


SACHI


Yes?


SACHI'S MOM


We know. We know what you've been doing.


Sachi's face crumbles.


SACHI'S MOM


I honestly don't know what to do with you anymore.


The familiar sound of the stair door slamming made me and Marina look at each other in dismay.

“I can't stand it,” she said, hitting “save.” “We barely even come up from lunch, and bam! The period is over.”

“I know.”

“Why can't my parents just give me my computer back
already?” she asked, ejecting the disk. “It's been two weeks.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but I probably couldn't come over, anyway.”

She snapped the DVD into its clear purple case. “Parents suck.”

I fingered the strap of my backpack. “I guess.”

“You guess?” She gave me a curious look. “Hello, all you did was take a video class, and you're, like, on house arrest.”

I shined the mouse light around the desktop. “Yeah . . .”

“Yeah
what
?” she asked.

“I don't know.” When I held the mouse up to Nani's ring, it made the onyx reflect red. “I lied to them. And . . . I don't like lying. And I think they'd be really upset if they knew I was still doing the video.”

Marina zipped up her backpack. “So you, like, actually care if they're mad at you?”

I replaced the mouse on its mat. “Yeah.” Why wouldn't that bother me?

“Wow,” said Marina, “that's kind of cool. I mean, that you care.”

I hadn't really thought of it that way.

Kids had started coming into Ms. Avery's room, but I had something to ask Marina. “So,” I said, “do you have any advice on talking to my parents? I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you're kind of good at getting people to do things.”

“Oh yeah, so good.” Marina snorted.

“I'm serious.”

From the way her cheeks had pinked up, I could tell my comment had pleased her. She put on her backpack. “Well, okay. So, the problem was that they wanted you to take Test Prep, but you changed the form and lied to them?”

“Yeah. And that I made Priyanka help me.”

“Okay.” Marina stared out the window, thinking. “What do you think would happen if you just told your mom you were making a video?”

I moved to the side so someone could grab a jacket off the desk. “Just
told
her?” I didn't see the plan in that.

“Yeah. Here, walk me to my locker.”

The bell hadn't rung yet, so I stood up. “Why should they let me?”

“I don't know.” We headed into the hall, where the sound of lockers slamming was deafening. “Why do
you
think they should let you?”

I walked slowly, trying to think despite the noise. “They always say they want me to work hard and accomplish something. I think the video
is
accomplishing something. It's not easy—”

Marina stopped at her locker. “That's for sure—”

“And I think they would like it, actually. I think they
would be, I don't know, kind of . . . proud.” My face grew a little warm when I said the last part.

“That's great,” said Marina, twirling her locker combination. “Tell them that.”

“But . . . I thought you were going to come up with a plan.”

Marina shook her head. “I'm not so good with the plans these days. Really, just tell them what you told me.” She pulled the books from her locker and snapped her lock shut.

“Okay,” I said, “but if it doesn't go well,
I'm
coming to
your
house for dinner tonight.”

Later that evening, I practically floated down the hall to my room. It felt like the air was humming as I clicked the door shut behind me.

Priyanka looked up from her desk. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Absolutely nothing. I asked Ma and Papa if it was okay for me to keep working on the video at lunch, and they said yes!”

“They did!” Priyanka put down her pencil. “I can't believe it. Why?”

I shook my head. “I don't know.” I tried to replay the conversation, the thought of which had made me twirl my ring so much earlier that day, I'd nearly worn a groove in my thumb. “They just said that since it wasn't interfering with
my schoolwork, and I'd come to them for permission, it was okay.”

“Oh.” Priyanka opened her container of pencil leads and poured them into her hand. “That's . . . I mean . . . that's good.”

“What?” I went to sit on the bottom bunk. “I thought you'd be happy.”

“I am. I just . . .” She put one lead on the desk and tried to slide the rest back into the container. “Maybe I should have asked to join chorus after all. I thought they'd say no because it goes until five . . .” One of the leads dropped, and she pressed her finger against the desk to pick it up.

“You can ask,” I said. I didn't even know she liked to sing. “Maybe they're even in a good mood now. You know, from—”

“No.” She slid the last lead in with the others. “You have to be in chorus from the beginning of the year.”

“Oh.” My heart squeezed a little. “That's too bad.”

She shrugged and loaded up her pencil. “It's okay.”

“I'm sure you can be in chorus in high school,” I said. “Just think—no Test Prep, and a whole year before you have to start worrying about the SATs!”

“
If
I get into Stuyvesant,” she said, trying out her new lead. “If I don't, I bet Ma and Papa will make me apply for
tenth grade.”

“Ugh.” The thought made me shudder. Priyanka didn't seem bothered by the thought, though, and had already gone back to her homework. “Want me to quiz you on the vocab?” I asked. We both had quizzes in Test Prep the next day.

“When I'm done with my science,” she said, circling something in her textbook. “That would be great.”

I pulled my independent-reading book off the top bunk. “You know,” I said, “Ma and Papa told me they wanted to see my video when I was done. I bet they would
really
like it if you let me interview you.”

Priyanka snorted, but I could tell she liked that I'd asked again. “We'll see.”

As I settled onto the bottom bunk with my book, I glanced down at my ring. The heavy gold lines twined around the onyx, making my fingers look longer, stronger.
Nani
, I thought,
thank you for giving me this ring, for calmness in the face of struggle, and for my family, who tries to make me into the person I want to be
.

* Best Idea: Sachi Parikh

You want to show the video in the lab? You are a genius!

* Most Talented Directors: Marina Glass and Sachi Parikh

Duh! Double duh!

“Wow,” said Rachel, looking around the video lab, “I can't believe all these people are here.”

“I know!” I was squealing like Addie, but I didn't care—all the chairs were taken! Not just with Elizabeth and our group, and Sachi's friends and her sister, but with Crystal, Natasha, and
Julian
, his feet up on the chair in front of him. He was laughing with Crystal and Natasha, and I thought,
Keep him in a good mood, ladies. I want him to think this video is the biggest woo in school
.

“Reener! Rachel!” Addie thumped the seats next to her. “Come sit!”

“Coming!” Rachel called. Then she hissed, “Marina?”

“What?”

“How's my hair?”

I looked at her half bun. “Fine.”

“Good,” she whispered back, “because I really think today is the day that Mr. Phillips is going to notice me.”

I laughed as Rachel made her way to her seat. Then I mouthed to Addie, “I need to be up here.” Sachi and I had to start the video, and Mr. Phillips wanted us to introduce ourselves—hotness! I was so glad Sachi had suggested that we ask to show our video in the video lab. This was way cooler than the Arts Assembly. It was an exclusive screening.

“All right, girls.” Mr. Phillips came up to the front of the room, where Sachi and I were huddled in the corner. “Are you ready?”

I gulped. Sachi and I been working on our video for weeks now, and I had been excited to show it to people, but now they were actually going to see it! Then I remembered all the good things my mom had said about our video the week before, when she'd found me working on it. Even if her idea of hot fashion was pumpkin pants, it was cool to hear her say the video looked like it could be on TV.

I told Mr. Phillips, “We're ready.”

“Good,” said Mr. Phillips. “Go ahead.” He nodded at the front of the room. I followed Sachi over there, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Hi, everyone,” said Sachi, her hands clasped together. “Thanks for coming to our video”—she glanced at me, and I filled in the title—“
When It's Hot, When It's Not, and When It's Hot, Hot, Hot.
”

“Word!” called Julian, and my heart leapt. Everyone started clapping, even Mr. Phillips and—whoa! Ms. Avery was here! Sachi and I looked at each other as if to say,
Yikes! Here we go!

“So,” said Sachi, “I guess I'll press ‘play' now.”

Everybody laughed, and I smiled. Go, Sachi.

She bent down and started the video, and we hurried to the side of the room to watch.

Sachi and Marina's Video


NARRATOR'S VOICE (MARINA)


There are so many different trends in this world.


VICTIM/VICTORIOUS footage: Rachel, Chelsea, Madison, Addie, Crystal, and Natasha on the red carpet. They strut. They laugh. They applaud themselves.


PAN: school lobby. T-shirts with tank tops underneath. Hoodies, leggings, flats. Saggy jeans, basketball sneakers.


NARRATOR'S VOICE (SACHI)


With all of those choices, how do people know—when it's hot, when it's not, and when it's hot, hot, hot?


CUT TO: interviews.


INTERVIEWER (
S
achi)


So, how do you choose what to wear?


TESSA