Authors: Lisi Harrison
Pretenders
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This book is dedicated to the
2012–2013 Phoenix Five:
Sheridan Spencer,
Andrew Duffy,
Lily Bader-Huffman,
Vanessa Riley,
and Jagger.
Forgive me.
Nickel-colored storm clouds skulked across the sky above Noble High School like timid freshmen. Summer break was over. Notebooks were blank, sneakers were clean, destinies unknown. The seventh annual back-to-school downpour was all that anyone could accurately predict.
Older students, and even some teachers, claimed the rain was actually the evaporated tears of terrified ninth graders. Because in spite of obvious first-day stressors (outfit regret, humidity hair, lame locker location, crush blushing, classroom confusion, lunch tray collisions, and loser abusers), students at Noble High were expected to make like Microsoft and Excel. “Achieve or Leave” was the unofficial motto; the Harvard of High Schools, its unofficial name.
Ranked number one in the country for nearly two decades, the prestigious institution was the reason most families lived in Noble. Without the school, Noble would just be another drive-thru town off I-95, another weed in the Garden State.
Not that it would ever come to that. Scandals destroyed schools, and Noble High didn’t do scandals. And yet… in 2013, sometime during Labor Day weekend, that changed.
Students returned from summer vacation to find bound copies of stolen journals propped up against their lockers. Journals written by five freshmen during the previous year. Journals no one was ever supposed to read.
Now the clouds over Noble High will rain tears not just for one day but for many months to come.
September 2013
The following journal entries are 100% real and 100% unedited. I should know. Many of them are mine.
Don’t blame Ms. Silver. She meant what she said about wanting us to have a private place to record our feelings; to take a break from screens and reconnect with the written word. She really did lock them up in the teachers’ lounge, as promised. If you need to blame someone, blame me.
My picture is on page eighteen of Noble High’s 2012–2013
Phoenix
yearbook. I am one of the PHOENIX FIVE. You nominated me. You thought I was one of the most outstanding students in our freshman class. You were wrong.
Still, I accepted my award. I acted special. But I couldn’t help
wondering what it would be like if it was for real, if I was actually outstanding. What
do
outstanding people think about? What do they eat for breakfast? Do they worry? Is life easier when you’re born with exceptional talent, brains, looks, drive, athleticism, or money? I needed to know. So I broke into the safe and stole all five of our journals.
I’m not exposing them because I’m jealous or I want revenge. I am doing this because I’m tired and I know you are too. The success bar is too high, and pretending has become the only way to reach it. Instagrams are filtered, Facebook profiles are embellished, photos are shopped, reality TV is scripted, body parts get upgraded like software, and even professional athletes are cheating. The things we believe in aren’t real. Everyone is a pretender.
The proof is in these pages.
It’s time to rise from the ashes of deceit and accept our true selves. To rearrange the letters in Phoenix and become X-Phonies instead. Then, and only then, will we truly know what it feels like to be outstanding.
Welcome to sophomore year,
(
for short. It’s cooler.)
9.4.12
INTERIOR. NOBLE HIGH—ALMOST LUNCHTIME.
A classroom stretches out before us. SHERIDAN SPENCER, an alluring freshman, sits center row, center seat. Poised, she click-starts her pen and writes.
Morning One as a Noble High freshman did not involve a lot of handholding. Like, none, in fact. Which was fine. It’s just not what I’m used to.
One might assume I do well in new situations because I channel celebrities for confidence. Like, right now for example, I am pretending to be Blake Lively. But if I’m being totally honest, which I am, first days are hard no matter how famous you act.
When I (as Blake) arrive someplace new I’m greeted right away. I’m given a tour of the set and offered a Dr Pepper on ice, no straw. My trailer is decorated to my exact specifications; boho-chic and stocked with Original, Tropical, and Sour Skittles. But this morning? Notsomuch. The only rainbow I tasted came from the Lucky Charms burp I tried to suppress at the Pick and Flick. (That’s what everyone calls the pickup/drop-off curb.)
FLASHBACK.
It happened as I watched the taillights on my dad’s BMW M5 disappear into the morning fog. I was standing with my very best friend, Audri Dunsing. She always rides with me because we live in the same gated community and… well, more on her later. The point is, we were just standing at the Pick and Flick because we didn’t know where to go yet. I guess we could have followed everyone else, but we were kind of stunned because our middle school was tiny and this place is huge. Anyway, it’s raining and I’m trying to open my zebra umbrella. Backpacks are bashing into us and it’s total chaos. O’course, that’s when Audri gets a whiff of my burp and decides to shout:
Ewwwwww, Sheridan! Digestive tract issues much?
I managed to apply more Russian Red lipstick, which helped me hold on to a bit of Blake. But not enough. I was seriously mortified. So I go:
Sick! What is that smell?
while fanning the air all innocent. Then I fan-smacked some older Blair Waldorf–type in the neck.
Sorry, it was an accident.
(Me.)
You’re the accident!
(Her.)
Remember those old cartoons where the coyote runs off a cliff and freezes in the air? It isn’t until he looks down and realizes he’s in trouble that he falls. Well, that’s kind of what happened to me when Blair and her friends started laughing. I realized I wasn’t really Blake Lively and my confidence took a dive—whistle sound effects and all. Which turned me back into me: Sheridan Spencer, future screen star, including but not limited to TV, film, computer, and tablet. Current blooper.
Anyway, I pull Audri off the main path and onto the grass lawn—which is huge, by the way. As big as Spencer BMW (my dad’s dealership), which has, like, hundreds of sedans and SUVs, and I go:
Thanks a lot, Audri!
O’course she starts speed-blinking and I know exactly where this is going. Yes, I have a stronger stage presence than Audri. (I’ve played leads in
Wizard of Oz, Wicked
,
Annie
,
Mary Poppins
,
Beauty and the Beast
,
Hansel and Gretel
,
High School Musical
,
The Little Mermaid
,
Grease
, and six holiday tributes to the birth of Jesus.) But when it comes to fake crying? She’s the best. Our old drama coach called her Meryl Weep.