Glitter Girl (12 page)

“Okay. Who sent it?” Kat looked angrily from Darcy to Zoe.

“Who sent what?” asked Darcy. Kat blinked in disbelief. Was Darcy really that clueless, or was this just a clever ploy to deflect suspicion?

“The video, Darcy,” she snapped, “the one Jules was so upset about thirty seconds ago? Are you even on this planet
ever
?”

“Hey. Don't come down on Darcy cuz Little Miss Birkenstocks got her tie-dyed undies all in a bunch!” Zoe jumped to Darcy's defense, not out of guilt but because it peeved her royally that Kat just
assumed
it was one of them. Which of course it was, but still.

“There were like twenty girls there who could have taken that video,” continued Zoe, mustering as much indignation as she could to make sure to throw Kat off her scent. “Remember, we all had slam cams! But you're blaming us? That is so over-the-top wicked. You want someone to blame, maybe you should blame yourself!”

“Me? Why? I didn't send it to her!” Kat said, slinging the indignation right back at Zoe.

“No. But you
said
those things,” replied Zoe.

The indignation began seeping out of Kat like the air in a balloon punctured by Zoe's point.

“But I–I didn't, you know, mean them. Not really.”

“Oh puh-lease. You told us yourself you didn't think Jules belonged at the party. You weren't even going to invite her! You only changed your mind cuz you were afraid Kyle wouldn't be so hot on you if you left his little sister off the list.”

“That's so not true! I–I invited her because she–she's my friend.” Even as Kat said the words, she knew they didn't taste true coming out of her mouth.

“You know what? I don't know who sent that video. But whoever it was did you
and
Jules a big favor. Now you can finally ditch her dead weight. And she can finally know that you're really not her friend. Come on, Darce. We've got more important things to do than hang out where we're not trusted.” Zoe turned and walked off.

“We do? Like what?” asked Darcy as she chased after Zoe.

Whatever numbness Kat had felt as a result of her fight with Jules was quickly wearing off. And now she was feeling everything all at once—hurt and guilt and shame that all added up to a general sense of ickiness. So she did the only thing she could think of doing. She ran. Hard.

She didn't know where she was going at first. She just felt like she had to do something to make herself feel better. When she finally stopped and bent over to catch her breath and to work out the stitch in her side, she realized that she had run to the gym.

The gym had been declared strictly off limits as soon as the Glitter Girl crew showed up to set up for the show, but a lunchtime pickup game was in full swing at the outdoor basketball courts nearby. Kat found herself looking around desperately for Kyle in the sea of tall, lanky boys. Yes, this is where she was headed all along, even though she hadn't consciously realized it at first.

She spotted Kyle standing off to the side, wiping the sweat off his face with his T-shirt and downing a Gatorade. Already Kat was breathing a little easier and it wasn't from just catching her breath. She'd talk to Kyle and explain everything, and he'd totally get it. He'd know what to do because he'd known both Kat and Jules, well, forever. He would know how to smooth things over with Jules, and everything would go back to the way it was.

Kat caught Kyle's eye and she waved and smiled at him. But he didn't wave and he didn't smile back. He just gave her a cold stare and rejoined the game, running down the court on a fast break. He could have looked over at her at any moment, even for a second. But as Kat stood there watching him play, she
knew
that he was not looking at her on purpose.

Kat felt like she had been slapped in the face. It was a diss. A definite diss. There was no other way to explain it because there was no way Kyle hadn't seen her. He had looked her right in the eye and then just got up and started playing! Suddenly it occurred to Kat that Jules must have shown the video to Kyle.

Kat felt foolish for thinking that Kyle would show allegiance to her above his own sister. And if Kat were honest with herself, she couldn't blame him. That video made her look pretty bad. And if she were
really
honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she was to blame for just how bad she looked. The words had, after all, come out of her mouth. She didn't
have
to say them. She
chose
to. Sure she had felt pressured to say them. But that was no excuse. Was it?

Kat felt the tears welling up in her eyes. Even though Kyle was doing everything he could
not
to look at her, Kat couldn't let Kyle see her like this. She ducked behind a bank of bleachers that had been removed from the gym to make room for the Glitter Girl stage, and started to cry. She'd lost her best friend, ticked off her other two BFFs, and lost her boyfriend all in the course of thirty minutes. On the suckiness scale, this afternoon clocked in at totally abysmal. Kat put a hand to her mouth to stifle the sobs that were coming quick and hard now.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps and voices coming from the other side of the bleachers near where she stood. She held her breath and leaned back against the wall of the school, not wanting to be heard. But she could hear the voices on the other side of the bleachers very distinctly.

She recognized one voice as belonging to Coach Scofield. The other was that of Assistant Coach Deevers, her balding geometry teacher, whose tangled front teeth forever looked like he'd just eaten a bagel and had forgotten to brush.

“You and Donovan? You gotta be kidding me. I bet she hasn't had a date since her brother took her to the senior prom,” said Coach Deevers, laughing the same mean laugh that some eighth-grade boys did whenever Carrie Mitchell, the girl who weighed two hundred pounds, walked by them. That always made Kat sooo mad. Why hadn't she ever said anything? Jules always did.

“Yeah, I know, right? I don't understand half the stuff that comes out of her mouth. She talks like those old bags that give you tours in a museum or something. Not that I've ever been,” Scofield added quickly. “I only heard.”

“So why bother?”

“Cuz I'm new in town and she's way eager to show me around. And she's one of them feminist types where she even pays a lot of the time.”

“No way!” Deevers laughed that mean laugh again.

“Yep. At least until basketball season is over and I have time to meet some real chicks, I figure why not? I mean, she's available, she's not wearing those dorky glasses anymore, and she did something better to her hair. I'm not sure what.”

“Still, Donovan, that's scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

“Yeah. But free drinks,” and then they high-fived and they
both
laughed that awful, mean laugh. Kat felt the blood rise in her face, just like she did whenever she saw Carrie get tormented. And she wanted to say something to these jerks, she really and truly did. But she didn't. Not like Jules would have done. In the end she just ran into the school building as fast as she could.

Kat walked down the empty hallways, her footsteps echoing, making her feel even more alone than she already felt. She couldn't believe what she had heard in the gym. Coach Scofield didn't even
like
Ms. Donovan. He was
using
her, and Kat was 100 percent responsible for throwing them together. What had she done? She thought about what Jules would say about this, and it involved a million “I told you so's” and probably a serious lecture or two.

That's if Jules were talking to her, which she wasn't. Somehow Kat was relieved about that because she couldn't take it, not right now. Not after all that had happened. But then again, she really wished she had someone to talk to and normally that someone would have been Jules. Kat felt really lost, with nowhere to turn.

Then, as if the universe had heard her anguish (and let's face it, how could it not, as badly as Kat was feeling at the moment), Kat saw it. The hot pink Mercedes with chrome wheels was parked right in front of the school as Kat exited. And standing there, leaning against the hood checking her BlackBerry, was Chelsea. She looked up and saw Kat and gave her the biggest, warmest, most welcoming smile, and Kat completely broke down in tears again. Chelsea rushed over to Kat. “Oh sweetie, what's wrong?”

Kat just sobbed.

Chelsea put a comforting arm around her. “What do you say you and me play a little hooky?”

The next thing Kat knew, the two of them were sitting at a little bistro table outside the Café Olé in the White Oak Mall having mochaccinos. Kat bared her soul about everything that had happened. It came out in a torrent as she told Chelsea about the video and her blowup with Jules, about her accusations of Zoe and Darcy, and what she overheard Coach Scofield saying about Ms. Donovan. At one point Kat got so upset that she accidentally knocked over her drink. By the time it was all done, more than a few tears (and a considerable amount of chocolate-flavored espresso) had been spilled.

“Look, honey,” Chelsea said finally. “I know it hurts, this whole thing with your friend, but the truth is, relationships change. It happens to everyone. I mean, I don't even talk to my mother anymore.”

“You don't talk to your mother?” Kat asked dumbfounded.

“It's a long story. Anyway, it's clear to me and practically everyone else who knows you that you've outgrown Jules.”

“But we were such good friends.”

“When you were kids. But you're not a kid anymore. You're a young woman who is becoming her own person with her own sense of style and direction in the world. And your friend, if you can call her that, doesn't approve of your choices and she's making you feel horrible about them, isn't she?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, a good friend would accept you for you who are and not judge you and certainly not jump down your throat for telling the truth.”

Chelsea made a good point. Still—

“But who sent her the video?”

“What difference does it make? The point is, they did you
and
her a favor because this has been a long time coming.”

“That's exactly what Zoe said,” said Kat.

“And she's right! Let me tell you, sweetie, you weren't doing Jules any favors by allowing this friendship to linger, because, let's be frank, she will never be in your league. She would only hold you back and end up getting really hurt herself somewhere down the line,” said Chelsea.

Kat mulled this over as she took the last sip of her drink, trying to process what Chelsea had just said. But before she had the chance—

“Hey, you know what always makes me feel better when I'm blue?” Chelsea asked. Before Kat could answer, Chelsea flipped out the shiniest, sleekest-looking silver credit card. “A shopping spree…on the company card.”

Chelsea smiled and grabbed Kat's hand. “We'll start with a makeover. Then I saw this gorgeous little ruffled dress in the window at Forever 21.”

As Chelsea's heels clacked past the straight iron kiosk toward Sephora, Kat had no choice but to scramble after her.

The next few days passed for Kat like they were some kind of bizarre dream. Everything was upside down. She was getting her rides to school from her own mom now, and she could barely remember the lie she had told to explain why Jules had suddenly stopped being around. Something about Kyle practicing with the Mustang on the way to school and his license and their parents not wanting Kyle to have any distractions when he still only had his restricted permit, although Kat would be hard pressed to re-create that lie even if you gave her a whole day to think about it.

Meanwhile, Kat couldn't stop obsessing about who had sent the video. She had already concluded that neither Darcy nor Zoe could have taken it. She remembered that you could see Darcy in the corner of the shot at the end, and you could hear Zoe's voice, which sounded far away, not that weird close sound that the person who's taking the video always has. And if neither of them
took
the video, it was hard to believe one of them had sent it. That would be a “Let's screw up Kat's life” conspiracy to rival all others. With her two BFFs back in the fold, it took a little of the sting off the dustup with Jules. Instead Kat was trying to look forward to the launch party as much as she could.

“I heard another ad for the launch party on the radio,” Darcy said at lunch just two days before the event. “Those ads are, like, on more than the songs now.”

“Did you guys hear Jessica Aguirre's new single?” Zoe asked. “I just downloaded it. It's totally sick. I wonder if she's going to sing that one on Saturday.”

“Jessica Aguirre has a weird nose,” said Darcy, giving her best shot at music criticism.

“Yeah, but at least she doesn't have acne!” Zoe said, mocking the scene from the infomercial that all the girls had seen about a billion times. “Does your skin cause you embarrassment? Do people scream when they see you coming? Do your pets cower in fear when you open the door to your house? That happened to me too, before CleanSweep from Remoulet!”

Zoe and Darcy cackled and howled. Kat just watched them. Usually a good joke mocking a teenage celebrity would be right up her alley, but today, she wasn't up for it. She had thought it would be totally uncomfortable to go to school and have to interact with Jules all day long. But it wasn't awkward at all. Instead Kat finally realized how little they actually hung out anymore…unless they made a point of it.

They were only in three classes together, and even then, they sat on opposite ends of the room. Then, at lunch, Kat usually let Jules eat her vegan stuff with her brown-bag crowd, and their paths hardly crossed in the hallways. It was a big school, after all. After school, it was the same thing.

Jules and Kat hadn't done the same after-school activities since fourth grade, when their parents pushed them both to sign up for the junior volleyball team. Even then, the only thing they had agreed upon was what a
horrible
idea it had been in the first place. So here was Kat fully expecting to be missing her friend, only to realize she wasn't around that much to miss. Weird. Maybe Chelsea was right, after all.

When the girls walked by the gym on the way back to class, they noticed two enormous trucks bearing the logo of some production company from Chicago parked outside. Guys who looked like they knew what they were doing wheeled equipment off the trucks and into the gym. To the starstruck Zoe, it looked like catnip.

“Come on,” she said. “Let's check it out.”

“Guys, passing period's almost over!” Darcy protested. “I don't want to get busted.”

“Oh come on, what's the worst that could happen?”

“One of those big spotlights could fall on my head and leave me permanently brain damaged?”

“How would we tell the difference?” said Zoe under her breath.

Zoe wasn't in the mood for a debate at the moment. So she did what every girl in her position would do—appeal to authority.

“Kat, don't
you
want to see what's going on?”

Kat smiled. A little adventure could be just the thing right now.

“Let's do it.”

“Ka-a-a-a-a-a-a-t!” Darcy said, adding about twenty-eight syllables to her name.

“Relax, Darcy,” Kat said peeking around the corner. “You know Ms. Tate is barely awake after lunch. She won't even notice if we walk in a few minutes late.”

That was good enough for Darcy.

“Okay,” said Kat, changing into full Alpha Girl mode for a moment. “You guys follow me. Kyle showed me a secret passage into the gym through the visitors' locker room.”

“And just what were you doing exploring secret passages with Kyle?” Zoe asked.

“Shhh! I think I heard something!” Kat hadn't heard something, of course, but discussing Jules's brother at this particular moment rated high on the bummer-ocity meter.

Kat led the girls down a narrow passage behind the same stack of temporary bleachers where she had witnessed Coach Scofield and Coach Deevers having their conversation a couple of days earlier. At the end of the passage was one of those fire doors that you absolutely, positively weren't supposed to open unless the school was under a nuclear attack.

“You're going to sound the alarm if you push that!” a still spooked Darcy said.

“Then shield your ears, Darcy, cuz here we
goooooo
!”

Zoe and Darcy dived behind Kat and cowered, expecting one of those ship horns like they had on the
Titanic
. Or at the very least one of those horrible noises that some fire trucks make in old foreign movies.

Instead, nothing.

Kat smiled and gently pushed the door to the visitors' locker room open.

“You knew that was going to happen!” said Darcy.

Kat laughed. “Of course I did. The janitor disarms it so he can get from one end of the school to the other without having to tramp through the halls. Come on.”

The faint stench of unwashed socks filled the air as the trio tiptoed through the locker room. They peeked out of the door to the gym, doing their Nancy Drew best to avoid detection. Since the production company had showed up the day before, nobody had been allowed to enter and all gym classes had been stuck playing softball out in Foley Field on the other side of campus.

As the girls took cover behind a rack of folding chairs, Kat could see why.

The gym had been transformed. Totally transformed. And not crummy transformed like when you have to decorate for the fall dance, and you've only got a three-hundred-dollar budget for the whole thing and nobody wants to volunteer, so the best you can come up with is a lot of crepe paper decorations and glitter on signs. This was like Hollywood!

A huge stage had been constructed in the place where the pep band usually sat during the basketball games. It must have been thirty feet wide. Behind the stage, workmen were putting up a giant video screen so everyone could see no matter where they were sitting. Gigantic banners advertising Glitter Girl products were being hoisted into position on huge ropes. It was a massive operation—a shrine to teen beauty and style. Kat, who had just studied ancient Egypt in social studies class, whispered to herself.

“It's like they're building the pyramids at Giza.”

“Only this isn't for King Tut,” Zoe answered in a whisper. “This is all for you, Kat.”

Kat had been so caught up in the drama of the last few days that she had almost forgotten about the Face of Glitter Girl contest. But it was true. She could be the Glitter Girl, just as easily as any of the other forty-nine girls. And the way Chelsea was talking when they went to the mall, maybe even easier. She could barely allow herself to believe it. Her face on magazines, on TV even.

“Guys, look!” Zoe whispered excitedly, pointing toward the stage.

“Wow, a giant shampoo bottle!” said the easily impressed Darcy.

“No, behind that, it's Jessica Aguirre!”

Sure enough, there she was. Among a sea of what Kat took to be stage managers and producers was the teen queen of pop herself. You'd barely recognize her without the belly shirt, short shorts, and metallic boots. She was dressed in a denim jacket, jeans, and a plain white T-shirt as she shook hands and listened quietly to the producers explain something about the upcoming show. She looked like, well, a teenager.

“Gosh, she's so beautiful,” said Darcy, apparently forgetting her comments from just twenty minutes earlier.

“This show is going to be great!” squealed Zoe under her breath.

Looking around at the massive construction project underway at her school, Kat could hardly disagree. There wasn't much that could make this better.

Well, maybe one thing.

• • •

Just as Kat predicted, the girls managed to sneak into Ms. Tate's class undetected before she had even bothered to take the roll. The lesson that day was on avoiding something called dangling participles, which couldn't be good with a name like that. As far as Kat was concerned the only things that should be dangling were earrings. However, fresh from their adventure in the gym, Kat couldn't concentrate on participles of any kind. Seeing the preparations made her more sure than ever that she was right to trust Chelsea and ignore her gut and go to the launch party. Still, whenever she thought about Jules, who at this moment was sitting at the back of the room very deliberately not looking at her, Kat felt a pang of guilt. Well, she'd just have to get over that.
To
whom
much
is
given, much
is expected.