The Revenge Playbook (10 page)

And that turned out so well.

By the time I finish reapplying my lip gloss, I am no longer thinking about Michael. I'm thinking about Ana. All the memories of what happened last year—being at the first football party of the year, walking uncertainly down this very hallway, and seeing
them
. I shiver, feeling as though I've been transported back in time. The door at the end of the hallway is cracked open, and I hold my breath as I walk toward it. I push it open wider, my fingers quivering just a bit, my stomach knotting up.

It's empty.

Of course it is. She's not even here. It's not like I'm going to see some replay of last year.

But it does replay, in my head.

I was wearing a new pink dress and a ton of body glitter, and I totally looked like I was trying too hard because I wanted like anything for Chad MacAllistair to notice me that night the way I'd noticed him every day for the past two weeks. I had this idea that he was going to be Big, and if I could just get myself looking hot and into his line of sight, something Big would happen to me. I had talked Ana's ear off about him, and she had dutifully listened and squealed, only making me stop when I started comparing him to all the colors of the rainbow. She's a really good friend.

The first football party was supposed to be the big night, but I panicked every time I got near him, so Ana said she would talk to him for me. But that was half an hour ago.

I checked the basement one more time and then the backyard again. It was like they'd
disappeared! I went back inside through the kitchen door and accidentally kind of slammed it behind me.

“Something wrong, princess?” asked a football player I didn't know.

“No.” I glared at him. I liked when my dad called me princess, but something about the way this guy said it bothered me.

The cluster of guys surrounding the keg laughed.

I decided maybe I could use his help after all. I hopped up on the counter beside him so my hip touched his bicep. “Actually, I'm looking for my friend Ana. Long, black hair? Freshman cheerleader like me? I just wanted to make sure she didn't leave without me.”

“Is that the girl who was talking to Chad?” asked another guy.

“Maybe,” I replied, even though I knew good and well the answer was yes.

“Oh, her,” said the guy beside me. “Don't worry. They just went upstairs. I'm sure they'll be back in a little bit.”

A couple guys snickered, and I died a little on the inside, but I tried not to show it.

I gave him a smirk as I squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks.
Princess
.”

Then I hopped off the counter and headed to the staircase.

“Wait!” he called. “You can't just go up there.”

I pretended not to hear.

When I reached the upstairs hallway, I didn't feel so brave. Could my best friend really do this to me? She knew he was supposed to be Big—I told her about things like that, my crazy theories on the Bigness of people. The first room was empty and the second one was occupied by Big Tom and two girls from band doing things I hoped didn't scar me for life. And then I heard what I thought was the sound of salvation or, more accurately, the sound of vomiting. Lots of it, happening in the bathroom right next to me. I foolishly hoped Ana was in there puking her guts out while Chad innocently held her hair, not even once glancing in the direction of her butt.

It wasn't them. It was a couple of sophomore girls. Which left only one door, the one at the end of the hallway. My stomach knotted up as I gently turned the handle. My fingers shook as I eased the door open.

And there they were.

My best friend, flopped spread eagle on the bed, purple panties crumpled in a ball on the floor. And the guy who was supposed to be Big, his hand moving around under her skirt.

“What are you doing?!” I practically shrieked it.

In less than a second, Chad was three feet away, his body pressed against a dresser instead of Ana. My yelling has that effect on people. “I wasn't! I mean, she—I mean, what?”

“You knew I liked him!” I started crying then, in public, which completely went against all of my Southern belle training.

Chad's eyes bugged a little, and his face started to get its color back. “I'll just let you girls work this out, then,” he said before making a quick exit.

I moved beside the bed, hands on hips, waiting for the apology I wasn't going to accept.

Ana just looked confused. “Mel-Jay?”

She tried to sit up, but didn't quite make it. And when I moved to help her, she vomited all down the side of the bedspread . . . and my new dress.

Fantastic. On top of everything else, she was wasted, and there was no one to take care of her but me. I could have just left her there, but I knew how strict her parents were, and I didn't want her getting in trouble, even if she was a heartless, guy-stealing lush. So because I am
such
a good friend, I carried her home and snuck her into her bed without her parents noticing.

And then I cut her out of my life.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

I
wake up to my phone vibrating its way off my nightstand. My hand fumbles around on the floor for it. If I can just reach it, I won't have to get out from under the covers yet. I snag the corner of it with my index finger (success!) and slide it until it's close enough to pick up.

The Devil: I got nothing out of that party.

Peyton: Me neither.

I text the girls back:

I have something :)

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes again.

The Devil: What? You weren't even at the party.

I smirk as I text back:

I have my ways.

Liv chimes in later.

Liv: I have something too! We should meet up!

The Devil: Yeah, but we need to keep this on the DL. People will get suspicious if they see us together.

I roll my eyes. Translation: I'm Melanie Jane Montgomery, and I'm too cool to be seen with you people.

Liv: SECRET RENDEZVOUS!!!

Me: I have to open at Jake's this morning. Want to meet me there at 11? No one comes in before noon.

Peyton: Works for me.

The Devil: Me too.

Liv: SECRET RENDEZVOUS + ICE CREAM!!!

I get to Jake's early and clock in. My manager's getting the register ready, but she retreats to her office when she's done. She knows I've got this. I turn on all the lights, prep everything that needs prepping, make some coffee (the inferior, stateside kind), and check all the rooms and bathrooms just in case, even though they should still be clean from closing last night. Just as I'm finishing up, there's a knock at the door. I unlock it and let in Peyton and Liv even though we don't open for another ten minutes.

“Hey, you guys want anything?” I ask.

“Oh! I'll have Strawberry Fields in a waffle cone,” says Liv.

I make one for her, and then a Key Lime Piescream for Peyton, and a Chocolate Slap Yo Mama for myself. Liv takes the opportunity to prowl around the store like a secret agent even though I already told her we're the only people here. When the bell jingles at the front door, she pops out of one of the side rooms, looking a little disappointed when she sees it's Melanie Jane and not an enemy spy.

“We can meet over there.” I point to a tiny room with squishy mismatched chairs and an antique bookcase painted the precise shade of a baked sweet potato. “That way I can hear the bell if anyone comes in.”

I scoop up a cup of Brown Sugah Vanilla for Melanie Jane and hand it to her without making eye contact. Sometimes it's hard to be around her without launching into a rant about how she's a stupid
vaca
, and she should have been there for me, but wasn't. Not that I care. I shake my head. I used to tell her
everything
. Even the weird, embarrassing stuff like how I believe dragons are real and the only reason we don't see them nowadays is because they propagate backward in time. But when I needed to tell her something really important, she wouldn't listen.

We all get comfortable, Peyton tucked into a high-backed chair that almost swallows her whole, Liv sitting on the floor in a butterfly stretch that would make me whimper in pain, and Melanie Jane perched on the edge of her cushion with her legs crossed at the ankles. (She never crosses at the knee because she says the pressure can cause varicose veins. Because, you know, that's something normal for a fifteen-year-old girl to worry about.) I take the seat closest to the door in case I need to jump up and help a customer.

“So, how did it go last night?” I ask.

Peyton and Melanie Jane mostly eat their ice cream and shrug. They weren't kidding when they said they had nothing. Liv did a little better.

“I know who has the keys to the trophy case!” she says.

The floor-to-ceiling case takes up almost an entire wall at the front of the school, and it's filled with trophies and other random football crap, and of course, at its center, is the Football of '76, letting off an otherworldly glow under its custom track lighting. I heard the glass protecting it is bulletproof, but I think that might be BS.

“Nice,” I tell Liv. “Who's got them?”

“Coach Fuller and the team captain,” she says. “So, Chad MacAllistair.”

I focus on keeping my expression neutral. Is it weird that hearing a name can make you feel like your eyelids are stapled open and you're being forced to watch the worst night of your life on replay? I feel Melanie Jane's eyes on me.

“Well, I have Coach Fuller for health, and he pretty much loves me,” she says. “I'll think of an excuse to borrow his keys. I'm sure he'll give them to me.”

“Oh! And if that doesn't work, I'll try to steal Chad's,” says Liv. “He was one of the guys I heard telling Trevor to break up with me, so I wouldn't mind getting back at him.” She's smiling, but there's sharpness behind it. “I can plan a fake seduction for the next football party! He'd totally fall for it.”

I narrow my eyes. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Almost like I was snapping at her. Melanie Jane is definitely staring at me this time, and so are Peyton and Liv.

“He's—well, he's just not a nice guy, you know?” Understatement of the year. Just thinking about him makes my pulse feel like it's exploding in my ears. I try to channel some Liv-like excitement. “Plus, I haven't even told you guys what I found out yet!”

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that,” says Peyton just as Liv says, “Spill!”

Melanie Jane isn't so easily distracted. She keeps watching me, a tiny wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“Right, so the football team is having this initiation thing a week from today, and that means they're going to have the football out of the case. It's supposed to happen in this abandoned barn at Big Tom's around midnight, so I figure we sneak in early and wait for our chance to steal it.”

“We're going to watch their secret boy ceremony? That's awesome!” says Liv.

“How did you find out about all this anyway?” asks Melanie Jane.
Ha! She's impressed.

“My friend Toby is a water boy. You guys really can't tell anyone about this. Toby's supernice, and I don't want anything to happen to him.”

“We would never do that. We promise,” says Peyton, and she looks so serious I half expect her to make the Girl Scout sign.

Liv and Melanie Jane nod.

We make plans for this Saturday, excitement sizzling in the air around us. We laugh like supervillains and feel like badasses and use our empty ice-cream cups to act out our plans even though it is completely unnecessary. It's times like this that I get so caught up in what we're doing that I almost forget why I wanted to be part of this in the first place. Almost.

Melanie Jane elbows Liv. “Hey, aren't you forgetting something?”

“A pen that doubles as a hidden camera?”

“The List?”

“Oh, right! The List.” Liv slams her hands down on the table in front of her, making us all jump. “Those assholes made a list.”

“What kind of a list?” I ask. Girls we've banged. Girls we hate more than anyone else in school. I
could be on any number of lists.

“A list of girls the guys had to dump,” says Melanie Jane, venom in her voice. “And we are
not
telling anyone.”

I stifle a snort. That kind of list would completely submarine the perfect reputation she's worked so hard to build.

“Who else is on it?” I ask.

“We don't know,” says Liv. “Really, I'm the only one we know for sure was on it, and that's only because Rey told me.”

“Rey?”

“That crazy-big freshman from Samoa who just made Varsity.”

I still have no idea who she's talking about but I nod like I do.

“Rey stays in the cone of silence too,” says Liv. “He may be one of them, but he seems like a really nice guy.”

“Well, clearly, I'm on The List too because they made Weston dump me,” says Melanie Jane because the attention being on someone else for a minute during her time of crisis is just too much for her to handle.

“The other girls probably don't even know. They just think their boyfriends decided to break up with them.” Liv shakes her head.

“That's horrible,” says Peyton. “We need to find out who they are so we can help them.”

“How do we do that?” asks Liv.

“Facebook?”

“Yeah, that could work.” I whip out my phone and so do the other girls. “We can just see if any other football team girlfriends got dumped last week.”

“Month,” says Liv. “I got the feeling they'd been wearing Trevor down for a few weeks at least, so we need to check the past month.”