The next morning, as I was on my way to check the cheerleader postings, I saw Stuart Hill pin Camilla Jones against her locker. Just as Camilla didn’t kowtow to the Bitches, she also didn’t kowtow to the football players, and from the looks of it, Stuart wasn’t pleased.
“I hear you’ve been complaining to Coach Sloan,” Stuart said. His ruddy cheeks looked like a little boy’s. “I hear you’ve been talking trash about me.”
“Leave me alone,” Camilla said, pushing against one of his arms. She gave him her toughest glare.
He reached down and pinched her nipple, right there in the hall. Camilla gasped and drew her arms to her leotard.
Stuart smirked. “Don’t go whining about something unless you want it,” he said as he sauntered off. “Slut.”
Camilla’s face flamed. “Asshole!”
I didn’t know what to do. My body had frozen when he first started in on her, and now my heart was whamming away, but the rest of me still couldn’t move. Camilla’s eyes found mine.
“You saw, didn’t you?” she demanded. “You saw what that asshole did?”
“I … I—”
“You have to come with me to tell Mr. Van Housen.”
Mary Bryan trapped me after French. “We need to talk,” she said.
Sweat popped out in my armpits. “I’m sorry I was such a dork at Kyle’s party,” I said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you guys.”
“What are you talking about?” Mary Bryan asked. “You didn’t embarrass us.”
“But I was such a loser.”
“Well …” She shrugged. “I had a great time. So did Keisha and Bitsy.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So don’t worry about it.” She ushered me down the hall and out the back door of the building. “There’s Bitsy. Let’s go.”
“Huh? Go where?”
Mary Bryan tugged me across the parking lot. She climbed into the backseat of Bitsy’s car and scooted over to make room for me. Keisha was already in the front.
“But … it’s sixth period,” I said.
“So?” Bitsy said.
“So I’m supposed to be in LIFE.”
She looked at me blankly, and I said, “Learning Inspiration from Empathy. LIFE. Today we’re taking a field trip to the zoo, to talk to an expert on feral cats.”
“Why?”
“So we can learn more about the cats on campus. So we can learn to coexist, and help other people to—”
“I think you should pass,” Bitsy said. “I’m sure the cats will understand.”
I glanced back at the building. Then I squeezed into the car. We followed the winding campus road that led to the back gate, but no one explained what was going on. We left the school grounds, and Bitsy selected a song on her iPod.
“Uh … where are we going?” I asked over the music.
“My place,” Bitsy said.
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
A shred of hope sliced through me. Was it possible I was still being considered?
“We brought you here to tell you that we’re interested in you,” Keisha said at last.
“Not to be blunt, but we don’t have much choice,” Bitsy said. Keisha shot her a look of warning, and she added, “Of course we adore you, it goes without saying.”
“Oh yeah?” I said. I tried to form my mouth into a smile.
“It’s true,” Mary Bryan said. “Out of all the candidates, you’re our top pick. It was unanimous.”
“Candidates?” I said.
“Chelsea Campion had potential,” Mary Bryan said, “but her dad’s this Hollywood mogul type, so she’s got all sorts of contacts already. She doesn’t need us.”
“She certainly needs something,” Bitsy said. “Her bum’s as big as a bloody buffalo’s.”
“And we almost asked Lynn Seigler,” Mary Bryan continued, “but we decided she’s
She continued listing girls—as well as why they were axed—and my stomach folded in on itself. Too pretty, too well connected, too smart without being nerdy … All of these descriptions sounded like good things. I didn’t understand what any of it meant.
“Carrie Beale came this close,” Mary Bryan said, holding her finger an inch from her thumb. “But then we were like, Ohhh. She doesn’t mind being a free agent. Which made us realize that she wouldn’t want it bad enough.”
“Want what?” I said.
“Do
The video was of Mary Bryan, only I don’t think Mary Bryan knew it was coming, because she turned pale when the images flickered onto the screen. “Oh my god,” she kept saying. “Oh my
“That was my tryout,” Mary Bryan said after what seemed like hours. She didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I didn’t … I had no idea …”
Keisha studied the sofa cushion. Bitsy gazed at Mary Bryan. Her expression was unreadable.
Mary Bryan laughed shakily. “Can we burn it, please?”
Bitsy strolled behind her and stroked her hair. “Don’t be a ninny. How else would we prove how far you’ve come?”
“Why would we need to?” Mary Bryan said. “I’m serious. Can we please burn it?”
“We should certainly burn that bathing suit,” Bitsy said. “Wretched.”
Keisha stayed serious. “Tell Jane the rest.”
Mary Bryan’s cheeks went from red to redder. “Oh, let’s not. I mean, god. She probably already hates me.” She turned to me. “You do, don’t you?”
“No,” I said. “Of course not!” I wanted to hug her. I wanted to go back in time and make the rafting trip go away.
“If you don’t, I will,” Bitsy said.
Mary Bryan looked like she might cry.
“Actually, it’s okay,” I offered. “Whatever it is, you don’t—”
“Just get it over with,” Keisha said.
Mary Bryan looped a strand of hair around her finger. “It was an accident. I’d had too much to drink.” She drew her knees to her chest. “I’d really rather not …”
“She and Chase had sex on top of a picnic table,” Bitsy said. “Lovely, yes?”
I saw it in my mind—Mary Bryan, Chase, the picnic table—and I wished I hadn’t.
“We weren’t, like, right out in the middle of everyone,” Mary Bryan said. “It wasn’t like everyone could see.”
I nodded. I gave her my best imitation of a smile.
“I’d had too much to drink, that’s all. And it was dark. And honestly, I didn’t even …”
“We all make mistakes,” Keisha said.
“That’s right,” Mary Bryan said.
“And we learn from those mistakes and become better people,” Bitsy said in a singsong voice. She snorted. “Either that or we get fixed, which is infinitely more effective.”
“Huh?” I said.
“Nothing,” Keisha said. She shot Bitsy a look.
“We
they know?—but I knew I wouldn’t. It would complicate things unnecessarily.