RESURRECTED (10 page)

The four of them were nearly inseparable throughout the school day, always finding each other in the hallways—and then usually hanging out at each other’s houses after school, too. Maria was her best friend, though, like a true sister, and the two of them were usually IM-ing or video-chatting when they weren’t actually together. Scarlet had other friends, too, but none as close as these three.

Their little group wasn’t the most popular in the school, but it wasn’t the least popular either. They were pretty much average, well-liked, as they were nice to everyone and never made anyone feel left out.

Which was the polar opposite of Vivian’s large group of mean girls, that definitely sat at the top of the popularity ranking in the school. Vivian, their ringleader, had at least six friends around her at all times. These girls were always the prettiest, dressed in the most expensive, designer labels, wore the nicest jewelry, carried the nicest bags, always sported the latest line of shoes—and were all cheerleaders. They all seemed to date the hottest guys, the best athletes, and to live in the biggest, nicest houses. They were also always the ones at the center of any school social event, always hosting or organizing the biggest and coolest parties, or anything social the school had to offer.

As if all this weren’t enough for them, these girls never seemed happy unless they were also picking on someone else. They had various targets, all throughout the grade, and each of the seven seemed to home in on someone else. Individually, they were annoying—but as a group, they were unbearable, always clustering together and giggling, whispering and pointing, like a pack of hyenas.

One never knew exactly what they were talking about, but from their body and facial expressions, it was pretty obvious it wasn’t nice.

And God help you if you got in their direct path, if you became a direct rival to any one of them—whether it was in sports, or social situations—or most of all, with boys. Then they would all turn on you like a pack of wolves, and be absolutely determined to make your life in school a living hell.

This was something that Scarlet was just beginning to realize, firsthand, since she had taken an interest in Blake—and especially since they’d gone to the movies the other night. Scarlet had had no idea that Vivian liked Blake, too. Now, she found out the hard way.

In the past, Vivian had always been naturally snotty to Scarlet—but now she stared her down at every turn, and made sure her girlfriends did, too. Now, Scarlet was a direct threat. Of course, it wasn’t Scarlet’s fault—Blake wasn’t dating Vivian, and as far as Scarlet could tell, he wasn’t even really that interested in her. But that didn’t stop Vivian from blaming Scarlet.

Scarlet braced herself as she spotted Vivian’s pack at the far end of the hall. She at least took comfort in her three friends surrounding her, which would shield her from some of their animosity.

But despite this, and the distance, she could already spot Vivian whispering and pointing towards Scarlet—and as she did, the group turned as one towards her.

“Hello? So like what happened?” Jasmin pressed. “We’re still waiting.” Scarlet realized she hadn’t answered their questions.

“Um, sorry…” she said. “It was really no big deal. I just like got sick, and then I went out for a while and lost my phone, and my mom freaked out. Sorry.”

“OMG, my mom does that all the time. So embarrassing,” Becca chimed in.

Scarlet was visibly relieved to hear her say that. They were buying it.

“But I heard you were like in the hospital or something?” Jasmin pressed.

“Look guys, it was really no big deal,” Scarlet said, more firmly. “I’m totally fine. Everyone just over-reacted. Please, can we just talk about something else?” Scarlet pleaded, hearing the stress in her own voice. She didn’t mean to snap, but she really wanted them to change the subject. She was also dreading one of them telling her that they spotted her somewhere yesterday, doing something that Scarlet couldn’t even remember herself. She hoped and prayed that wasn’t the case.

“Well, I’m stressing out,” Maria said, “because the dance is in like two days, and I still don’t have a date.”

Thankfully, as always, she came to Scarlet’s rescue and changed the subject. Scarlet was relieved.

Yet, at the same time, she had changed the topic to one that was even more stressful: Friday’s dance.

The big Halloween Ball. Every year, there was a big outdoor dance down on the football field, and the school had a huge bonfire and marshmallow roast. It was the kiss of death to show up without a date. You could get away with it as a freshman, or as a sophomore, but definitely not as a junior or senior. And being a junior, the pressure was really on Scarlet this year.

“Who you bringing?” Jasmin asked. “Blake?” She was clearly trying to pull information out of her. “You never told us what happened on your date!”

Scarlet sighed. This day was going from bad to worse.

“Come on, stop holding back!” Becca said.

Jasmin said Blake’s name way too loudly, and had done so at the worst possible moment—right as they were passing the cluster of mean girls. Scarlet looked at Vivian and saw her expression change to a scowl. Clearly, the mention of Blake’s name had struck her hard. She could feel the hatred coming off of her.

Scarlet looked away; at least she had safety in numbers.

“Nice shoes,” came a snarky voice behind her, followed by a chorus of giggles. It was Vivian’s voice, of course.

Scarlet looked down and realized her flats were covered in mud stains. She flushed with embarrassment. Somehow, somewhere, maybe yesterday, she must have ran in the mud. The morning had been such a blur, she hadn’t even checked.

“Nice life,” Jasmin turned and shot back at Vivian.

Scarlet was so grateful for Jasmin’s sticking up for her, and at that moment, she loved her more than ever. But at the same time, she really didn’t want to spark a huge confrontation. She just wanted this day to move on.

“At least I have one,” Vivian snapped back.

“At least she has a boyfriend,” Maria snapped back. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot: you don’t. Was it supposed to be Blake?”

Scarlet glanced back and saw Vivian’s face turn a shade of purple. She was apoplectic. It was obvious that Maria had hit her with the lowest blow of all.

Scarlet was mortified. She hated Vivian, but she definitely didn’t want to provoke her like that—

especially since she didn’t even know if she and Blake were officially dating. She’d made a mistake the other night when she introduced him to her family as her boyfriend—but she had been caught off guard by all of them there, and got nervous, and it just blurted out. She was encouraged he hadn’t corrected her—but also nervous that maybe by announcing it like that she might have pushed him away, with too much too soon—especially since they hadn’t talked about it. They’d only been on a few dates, and she still wasn’t really sure where they stood.

But here her friends were, announcing in front of everyone that Blake was her boyfriend and not Vivian’s. It made Scarlet more nervous than ever that this could put Blake on the spot and drive him away; because even though their date was great, she still wasn’t really sure how Blake really felt about her. And a part of her was worried that Blake might actually like Vivian—that rubbing it in her face like this might put her into overdrive and force her to do all she could to try to steal Blake away for good.

“Please guys,” Scarlet said, grabbing Maria’s shoulder and guiding her away, ushering them down the hall.

They turned the corner and reached their lockers, and Scarlet hurried over to hers, quickly opening the lock, throwing her books in and taking out other books she needed. The inside of her locker was covered with cutouts from magazines, a huge collage of pictures that she loved.

Scarlet sighed, trying to gather her thoughts. This day was already ridiculous. It was like a whirlwind. She just wanted to get home, get into bed, curl up with a book, Ruth by her side, and not think about any of this. She felt like she was in a white-hot spotlight, and just wanted to get out of it.

The bell rang, and as Scarlet closed her locker she spotted Blake. Her heart beat faster. He was standing at his locker, about ten rows away. He still hadn’t noticed her.

“Go talk to him,” whispered Jasmin, gently prodding her back.

That was the prod that Scarlet needed. Without thinking, she took a few steps his way. Her heart was racing.

They’d had such a nice night at the movies. Blake had bought her popcorn and had walked her home, like a gentleman. Scarlet had wondered if he was going to kiss her, and for a moment it seemed like he would. But then it seemed like he’d gotten nervous, and at the last second he kissed her on the cheek instead.

It left Scarlet wondering if he was really into her. Apparently, Scarlet discovered later, he had texted her the following day—but of course, that was the day, of all days, that she had to get sick and go AWOL. She was suddenly flooded with panic as she just realized she’d never replied to his text. Now he must think she’d blown him off.

“Hey,” she said, and could hear her own voice trembling.

A few feet away, he turned and looked at her. For a moment, his eyes lit up with joy; but then they clouded over with something like confusion, or hesitation. She couldn’t tell what.

“Hey,” he said back, sounding surprised. “Are you okay?”

Scarlet felt herself flush.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I heard you were like missing or something.”

“No, just my mom freaking out,” Scarlet said, putting on her best smile. “Parents.” Blake nodded, and slowly smiled. But his expression was inscrutable, and she couldn’t tell if he bought it or not. He stood there kind of silent, not igniting any more conversation. She began to worry.

“I texted you yesterday,” he said.

Scarlet’s heart pounded. He was upset about that.

“Yeah I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t have my phone all day,” she said.

But she feared he might think she was lying. Who didn’t have their phone on them all day? She hoped he believed her.

“Well yeah, that’s cool,” he said, sounding noncommittal.

They stood there in silence, and it was getting awkward. On the one hand, she sensed that he liked her; on the other, he seemed unsure, maybe still hurt about the text. She wanted to make things right, but she didn’t know how. Most of all, she wanted to go to the dance with him on Friday—and really wanted him to ask her, and for it to be official that they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

Especially before Vivian could try anything.

Scarlet stood there, silently willing for him to say the words:
Will you go to the dance with me on
Friday?
She imagined the sound of his voice, his expression as he asked it.

But as they stood, there was just more silence. She felt herself filling with dread.

The bell rang again, and kids began to disperse in every direction. Scarlet’s heart sank, as she sensed he was about to head off to class.

But to her surprise, he didn’t leave. Instead, he stood there, even as everyone else was swarming around him. He cleared his throat.

“So…um…are you like going to the dance on Friday?” he asked.

Scarlet’s heart swelled with relief. It was a huge moment for her, the moment she finally realized he liked her. She heard the shaking in his voice and she realized that he was just nervous. Just like her.

“Well, I—” she began.

“
There
you are,” came the voice.

Scarlet wanted to die. There, in front of her, appeared Vivian, slithering up to Blake, wrapping one arm around his.

Blake looked over at her, surprised, ambivalent, clearly unsure how to react.

“I have something really important to talk to you about,” Vivian said. “Will you walk me to class?”

Blake stood there, looking back and forth between Vivian and Scarlet, looking trapped, like a deer in the headlights. He looked like he didn’t know what to do.

Scarlet could hardly blame him. Vivian stood there, looking so tall, so gorgeous, so perfect, in her perfect makeup and tight-fitting clothes, like a real-life Barbie doll. Beside her, Scarlet felt inadequate. She didn’t have her money, or her clothes, or her style, or her perfect, flawless looks.

How could she blame Blake for not saying no?

At the same time, Scarlet wanted to scream. Why now, of all times? Why did this creature seem to plague her at every turn? It was almost too much for her to bear. Vivian had everything. Couldn’t she just let Scarlet have Blake?

“Um…okay I guess,” Blake said to her.

Scarlet examined Blake, looking for any signs of his disliking Vivian. But she couldn’t tell; he seemed on the fence, as if he were split right down the middle between Vivian and Scarlet. And that, more than anything, broke Scarlet’s heart.

“I guess we’ll talk later,” he muttered to Scarlet, sounding apologetic as Vivian literally dragged him away.

In moments, the two of them were walking away, down the hall. As they went, Vivian turned and looked back at Scarlet with a mean, victorious smile.

Scarlet stood there and watched them disappear and as she did, she felt her whole world sinking out from under her. She felt as if she had just lost Blake for good.

Scarlet sat in class, fuming. It was so unfair. She wanted to yell at the world. Why couldn’t she just have had thirty more seconds with Blake? Why couldn’t she have had just enough time for him to respond, for him to ask her to the dance? That was all she needed. Then it would have been too late for Vivian—there was nothing she could have said or done. Now, anything could happen.

God, she hated her. More than anything. She literally stole Blake out from under her, with a second left to go.

And even worse, as luck would have it, Scarlet knew that Blake and Vivian had their next class together. Another stroke of bad luck. If they had just separated after that, if Blake had been in Scarlet’s class, then she would have at least had had a chance to set things right. But now Vivian had a full 40 minutes to convince him. Who knew what they were talking about; who knew what she was saying about her. Scarlet felt sure that she wasn’t wasting any time, that somehow she would convince Blake to ask her to the dance.
Would he?