Beauty (27 page)

“What?” Hudson laughed. “Is there a hole in my roof or something?”

“No.” I cleared my throat. “You’re wholly hole-free. And,” I added, jamming my bike back into its spot and pushing the button to lower the garage door, “I’d love a ride.” Dashing across the yard, I climbed into the passenger seat.

“Thought you might,” Hudson said. “I know you love your bike and all, but I wouldn’t want you ruining your hair in this weather.”

“God forbid,” I agreed, sneaking a glance in the passenger-side mirror. This kind of weather used to work horrors on my hair. But today, even slightly damp from the rain, my hair looked sleek and perfect. I straightened up in my chair, feeling a rush of confidence. It was like no matter what the world threw at me, my new look managed to sling it right back. With a bang.

“So,” I said, smiling flirtatiously at Hudson. “Big night coming up on Saturday, huh? I heard a rumor your date has a pretty hot dress.” I thought of the periwinkle dress from Haute that was hanging untouched in my closet. I’d been saving it for the perfect occasion, and I had a feeling that my first prom with Hudson was it.

“Oh yeah? Good thing I finally got up the courage to ask her then.”

“Ha.” I rolled my eyes. “Hudson Taylor doesn’t need to
get up
the courage to ask any girl anything.”

Hudson shrugged. He looked like he was holding back a smile. “I guess you’re not just any girl then.”

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. Not wanting Hudson to see, I turned to the window, watching the rain streak down outside. “Ooh, sucks to be that girl,” I said. Up ahead, a girl was struggling to bike through the rain. Her clothes were soaking, her hair was plastered to her head, and her legs seemed to be working double time just to pedal against the wind. “Look at the fate you saved me from, Hudson.”

As we neared the girl, I noticed a familiar streak of blue in her hair.
Oh no
. It was Kemper. Her parents both had early hours at work, so she always got rides with me on rainy days. In my excitement over my ride with Hudson, I’d completely forgotten to call her. I turned to Hudson, about to ask him to turn around and give Kemper a ride. She could always pick up her bike later, and half a ride to school was better than no ride. But then he smiled at me, dimple and all, and I hesitated. That would mean an end to my one-on-one ride with Hudson—something I’d been dreaming of for so long. And it wasn’t like Kemper had been so nice to me lately, anyway. She hadn’t stood up for me during Hayley’s and my fight, and she’d refused to even listen to me at the park yesterday. She probably would just ignore me if we pulled over. Besides, she was already drenched. What was a little more rain at this point, really? As we zoomed past her, I huddled down in my seat, refusing to look out at the rain pouring down from the sky in sheets.

Kemper wasn’t at her locker before homeroom. I wondered if she’d given up and gone back home. For a second I felt a pang of guilt, but I pushed it away. If she wanted a ride, she could have called me. Why should I have to do all the work? By the time I jimmied my locker open, a group had already gathered round: Hudson and Brandon, Ashley and Blair, Brittany and Sarah. I glanced over at Ashley’s locker. I used to watch from a distance as all her friends crowded round it in the mornings, laughing and talking, their voices spilling down the hall. It stood empty and silent now, and it hit me suddenly just how much things had changed these past two weeks.

“What do you think, Mol?” Sarah said, pulling me back to the present. “Want to ditch lunch with us and hit up Eddie’s?”

“Definitely.” I leaned against my locker and gave my head a gentle shake, making my hair tumble over my shoulders. “I think one more bite of Morgue food might actually kill me.”

Hudson laughed. His hand brushed against mine and I hooked one of my fingers through his, smiling over at him.

“I can’t believe we’re actually going to have to pay for tots,” Blair said. “It seems, like, sacrilegious.”

“Hi, Molly.” Judith, the costume designer for the play, stopped in front of my locker, smiling shyly at me. “How’s your project going? Has the dress been helpful?”

I thought of the ball gown I’d borrowed, now heaped in an unused pile next to my bed. I’d meant to return it to her, but I’d misplaced the mask somewhere, and I kept forgetting to look for it. “Yeah,” I said. “I’ll bring it back for you soon.

“That’s okay—take your time,” Judith insisted. “Really.”

“Cool, thanks.” I smiled wanly at her, waiting for her to move on. But she stayed put.

“I, um, I actually made something for you, Molly.” She pulled a racerback tank top out of her bag. It was the exact same blue as my eyes and made of a thin silky material. An intricate pattern of dark blue sequins was sewn carefully across it. It looked like something you would see in a magazine, something I would jump at the chance to buy. “I thought maybe you’d want to wear it to school tomorrow? Maybe even tell people I made it?” Her voice squeaked and her hands were trembling a little as she held it out for me. “I’m thinking of starting a business, and I thought if you wore it …” She trailed off nervously.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug, taking the shirt from her. “I’ll wear it.”

“Really?” Judith’s face lit up. “Thanks, Molly! Thank you so much.” She clasped her hands together excitedly. “I have to go call my mom!” she burst out, before sprinting off down the hall.

“Uh, can you say hero worship?” Brittany giggled when she was gone.

“Seriously,” Ashley said. “You’re not actually going to wear a
homemade
shirt, are you, Mol? On the day prom queen is announced?” She eyed the shirt, wrinkling her nose in disdain.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Of course not,” I scoffed. Opening up my backpack, I stuffed the shirt inside, letting it fall to the bottom. “I’m going to wear something from Haute, obviously. But I wasn’t going to say that to her
face
. I mean, did you see her, Ash?” I shook my head, thinking about how Judith’s hands had trembled when she handed me the shirt. “I think she kind of idolizes me.”

“
Kind of?
You could probably tell her it was cool to come to school naked, and she’d do it.” Ashley snorted. “Oh, how I love freshman.”

“I know.” I tossed my backpack into my locker, slamming it shut.

Hudson gave me a strange look. “You’re really not going to wear the shirt, Mol?”

“Of course not, Hudson. It’s
homemade
.” I exchanged a boys-are-so-clueless look with Ashley.

Hudson slid his hand out of mine. “I have to get to homeroom,” he said abruptly.

“I’ll walk with y—” I started, but he was already gone, bobbing in and out of people until he turned the corner, disappearing from sight.

“What’s with him?” Blair asked. We all looked at Brandon, but he just shrugged.

“How should I know?”

“God,” Ashley said, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes you’d think boys were the ones with PMS.”

“Hey!” Brandon protested.

Ashley waved her hand over him, Vanna White style. “Case in point,” she said smugly, making all of us, even Brandon, laugh. As we headed to homeroom, I kept thinking about that look Hudson had given me before. He’d seemed so baffled about the shirt. But why did he care? It was just a shirt. A girl’s
homemade
shirt at that.

Outside our homeroom, Ashley elbowed me in the side. “Heifer alert,” she faux-whispered, loud enough for most of the hallway to hear. I followed her glance. Hayley was walking down the hall in a snug sweater and the too-small gray skinny jeans she’d bought at Haute, her braids dotted with pink rhinestones. She acted like she didn’t see us as she stormed in our direction, but by the way her cheeks turned pink, I could tell she’d heard Ashley. For a split-second, she let her eyes flicker toward mine. There was so much hatred pouring out of them that I recoiled. But then I straightened up, tossing my hair over my shoulder. After everything Hayley had done to me,
I
should be the one shooting eye daggers at her, not the other way around.

I matched her gaze. “This little piggy went to market,” I said slowly. “And
that
little piggy went to class.” Then I hooked my arm through Ashley’s and sauntered into homeroom, not bothering to look back.

Freaks and Geeks and Dorks, Oh My!

KEMPER SHOWED UP five minutes late to Mr. G’s class. She was dry, but her hair was sticking out in a million directions and she was wearing a new outfit: brown corduroy shorts that hung to her knees and a white button-down shirt that swam on her tiny frame. I had a feeling she’d spent homeroom raiding the lost and found. “Well, look what we have here,” Mr. G said snidely.

“I—” Kemper started to explain, but Mr. G cut her off.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Kemper. Late is late. I expect to see you after school today for detention.”

“Fine,” Kemper muttered, ducking her head and sitting down.

“Now, let’s see … how about we start with Molly for today’s pop quiz.” I slouched down nervously in my chair. Kemper had emailed me all the reading I was supposed to do yesterday, but between my
Mars Attacks!
marathon with Seth and going out with Ashley and Blair, I’d never gotten around to it. Mr. G stopped in front of my desk, smiling down at me. “You feeling better today, Molly?”

I nodded.

“Good. Then tell me, what was the outcome of the Battle of Gettysburg?”

I paused, thinking hard.
The Battle of Gettysburg. The Battle of Gettysburg. I must know something about it… .
But I drew a blank. I felt my hands start to sweat in my lap. I never missed a question during Mr. G’s pop quizzes. Then I thought of Ashley, who managed to score As in Mr. G’s class without ever actually answering any of his questions. I straightened back up in my chair. “I wish I knew, Mr. G,” I said, tilting up my head so I was looking directly into his eyes. “But I was
so
sick yesterday I could barely get out of bed. I still tried to do the reading. I really did.” I gave him my very best puppy dog eyes. “But I was just too dizzy.” I let out a loud, tortured sigh. “I’m sorry I let you down.”

“Don’t be silly, Molly, you were sick! How about I just come back to you with a new question tomorrow?”

I nodded eagerly. “That would be great, Mr. G.” I beamed up at him. “Thank you so much.”

“Thank you
so
much, Mr. G.” I heard someone mimic darkly behind me. “I
so
love you.”

I whirled around in my seat to see Kemper scowling in her chair.

Mr. G raised his eyebrows at her. “What was that, Kemper?”

“Nothing,” Kemper said quickly, but her scowl deepened.

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Mr. G crossed his arms against his chest. “In fact, it
sounded
like you interrupting my pop quiz.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “How about we make that two detentions this week, Kemper? And if you’d like any more, please feel free to keep talking during my class.”

Kemper held up a hand to her lips and made a locking motion with her hand, pretending to toss the key out the window. Several kids snickered. She was acting like she didn’t care, like it was no big deal, but I knew her better than that. The last time she’d gotten two detentions in a row was when she’d tied herself to the big tree out back to protest the school’s discussion of turning the soccer field into a parking lot. She’d
cried
when Principal Markoff gave her those detentions. “That’s better,” Mr. G said to her. Feeling strangely smug, I turned back around in my seat.

At the end of class, Kemper and Hayley didn’t wait for me, bolting out together with their heads bent close.
Whatever
, I thought angrily as I met Ashley by my locker. I had Ashley and Blair and Hudson. Who needed them anyway?

“So tomorrow’s the big day,” Ashley said as I stuffed my history textbook into my locker.

“I thought that was Saturday.”

“No way. Prom queen’s
announced
tomorrow! There’s nothing bigger than that. You ready for it?”

I grabbed my algebra book and slammed my locker shut. “The question is,” I said, cocking an eyebrow at her, “are
you
ready for it?”

“I’m always ready.” Ashley slung an arm around my shoulder. “Just don’t hate me when I beat you, okay?”

“Right back at you.”

Ashley laughed. “I love you, Mol, but I’m just warning you. I never lose.” Ashley glanced over at my algebra book. “Oh, crap. I left mine in my locker. Wait for me, okay?” I nodded, and she jogged off toward her locker.

“Molly, do I have gossip for you!” Marissa Turton stopped by my locker, huddling close to me. “Remember Taylor Mission?” I nodded. Of course I remembered Taylor Mission. He was the hottest counselor at camp back in the day. I remembered how jealous I felt when I heard about him and Marissa making out behind the duck pond. “Well, apparently he got arrested yesterday for attempting—and failing—to steal a car.” Marissa was in the middle of telling how Taylor was totally going to juvie—and maybe even jail because he was almost eighteen—when we both saw it: Anthony Herman, walking down the hall playing his air drum.