Boy Proof (15 page)

I see something I’ve never seen in her before. I see a rare beauty. I am itching to pull my camera out of my bag and take a picture of her, but I don’t dare. She would never understand. She would think I was making fun of her.

Rue turns herself around and disappears down the hallway.

That’s two people I’ve pissed off today. And it’s only fifth period.

The red work light tempers me. I am messing everything up. Nothing is going right. I want to cry.

The photographs magically appear in the developer. I poke at them with the tongs. Another student comes in through the revolving door of the darkroom. It’s Max Carter.

“We have to talk,” he says. The red light eliminates all the hard features from his face. He looks smooth and unreal. I wonder if I look the same.

“No, we don’t,” I say, because I am afraid of what he’ll say to me. I’m afraid of what I’ll say to him. I’m afraid I’ll say that I am so glad that he’s come to Melrose Prep and that I’m so glad that I have a friend.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking . . .” Max says.

“Shut up,” I say.

“No,” Max says.

But he does shut up, because I turn my face away from him and I don’t say anything, and so the silence is frozen between us.

Max just stands there. I think it’s a relief that maybe he will just go away and I can just be alone, like I was before. Even though truly, I don’t want him to leave.

After what seems like ten lifetimes, Max exits the revolving door back out to the light. Leaving me by myself in the darkroom.

I push open the door to the Science Fiction and Fantasy Club meeting. Everyone stops their chatter when they see that it’s me. Rue looks away from me. She looks at the wall. Martin is shaking his head. I know she’s told everyone that she has had enough of me.

It’s obvious that no one wants me there. Hasan is the only one brave enough to say anything.

“You kept valuable information from us, Egg,” Hasan says. Clearly he’s hurt. “Our club mantra is to share all insider information on the films and television shows that we talk about.”

“I know. I helped make up the rules,” I say.

“Well then, you also know that you are officially suspended for keeping information to yourself,” Hasan informs me.

I can tell he’s embarrassed that he has to spell this out to me, because his slight lisp is more pronounced.

“What are you talking about?” I say.

“We know your mom is playing Hera. It was announced today, and we all figure you’ve known for a while,” Martin says. “Sorry. You know the rules. You’re suspended from the club until you can bring us a worthy piece of insider information.”

“This is bullshit,” I say. “It’s my mom. It’s different.”

“It’s the rules we all agreed on together,” Mr. Padilla says. He’s sorry, too. I can tell. But he’s not going to stand up for me.

“How about a scoop like Saba Greer is dating Lark Austin?”

“Old news. It’s already all over the Web,” Martin says. “Somebody posted it on the
Terminal Earth
message board.”

“Besides, outing somebody is cheap,” Rue says. “And it doesn’t pertain to film information.”

“Whatever,” I say. “I’m cheap, I’m mean, and I’m a waste.” I push open the door and get the hell off campus.

Still no one is talking to me.

A month ago this would have been preferable. Now it is torture.

The days get measured by the things that don’t happen anymore. Like Max’s head never turns in my direction to say something clever. Rue never pats the empty seat next to her at lunchtime.

There are more alien and monster doodles than notes and homework assignments written in my loose-leaf binder.

I haunt the hallways like a broken spirit.

My mom is not embarrassing me. She’s actually being totally cool. I’ve never seen her as anything but washed up. But tonight, she looks gorgeous. Her hair is in an upsweep, with some glitter in it for a sparkling effect. She’s wearing a fabulous new dress with jewels on loan. How she shines in the light of the paparazzi. How she glows as she walks down the red carpet. How she smiles with genuine happiness and squeezes my hand and says to me in a whisper, “This is it, baby. I’m back on top.”

I guess I never paid attention. It really means that much to her being an actress. She really is a star.

But me, I’m nothing. I’m a black hole.

Hasan is by the stinky cheese table, ignoring me. I look him over — sloping shoulders, large stomach, man breasts. His body language tells me that he wants to talk to me. He widens his eyes at me, like an alien.

“How did you guys get in?” I ask Hasan. I genuinely want to know. I’m glad they’re here. I’m glad for the familiar, if unfriendly, faces.

Hasan looks over to the group of my former acquaintances. Rue slits her eyes at me like a cat. Martin shakes his head. A few others from the Science Fiction and Fantasy Club turn around, physicalizing the cold shoulder they are collectively giving me.

“Well, it was no thanks to you,” Hasan says.

“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry. I mean it. For real.”

“Rue’s dad got us in,” Hasan says, and finishes loading up his plate with a small mountain of bread, cheese, and olives.

I suddenly wish that I had invited them. I wish that I had not been such a tightass with my in at the event. These are the only people I know who can appreciate some of the things that I like, and I miss them.

“I miss talking to you guys. You guys are my friends. What if I said I was sorry, Hasan?” I ask.

“It would help if you really meant it,” he says.

I see an opening here. I can see Hasan wanting to crack. He wants to tell me it will be okay. But then he moves away from me to rejoin the true friends he came here with tonight.

Saba Greer blinks too much. I never noticed that she blinked that often in
Terminal Earth.

“Can I try one of those halibut sashimis?” she asks me sweetly.

Saba Greer is kissing up to me to get on my mom’s good side. It’s so strange. Once upon a time, this would have been a dream come true. But now that Saba Greer is just a normal person and not a hero who saves humanity from itself at the end of the world, it’s just a bummer.

“Knock yourself out,” I say, and push the tiny plate with the halibut roll over to her side of the table.

“Thanks,” she says. Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

God, it is so annoying. I blink back at her, but she just smiles. She doesn’t realize that I am making fun of her. She’s such an idiot. I suppose they must have digitally erased her eyelids in
Terminal Earth
in order to make her look less annoying. They can fix just about any imperfection in the movies.

Imperfections. I sum them up.

Saba Greer blinks too much in real life. My mom has a chip in her tooth, and Lark Austin’s hair is thinning.

And me, I’m ground zero for my own personal apocalypse.

“Would you like to try the eel?” I say politely. My mother smiles because I’m making an effort to join in the conversation. But I just really hate eel.

“You know, Saba, the tabloids said
I
was gay once,” my mom says between bites of squid.

“But you’re not gay,” Saba Greer says. “Besides, they got it wrong. I’m not gay. I’m bi.”

“One of those Eggophiles posted it on the
Terminal Earth
message board,” Lark Austin says.

“I was going to do a whole spread of coming out in
The Advocate,
” Saba say. “It was going to be a great publicity thing for me. But now that’s ruined because of the tabloid thing. I hate not having absolute control over what’s said about me.”

“It’s still great publicity. We can spin it any way we want,” Lark says. “It’s giving me great buzz for the Greek Mythology trilogy.”

“Well, it’s just about damage control now,” Saba Greer says. “What pisses me off is that the tabloids keep outing Zach Cross and it never affects him.”

“Well, you know what they say. When a door is closed, a window opens,” Mom says.

Mental note: Time to rethink my life. Time to look for that window.

It’s been four weeks since Max Carter has spoken to me. He doesn’t answer my instant messages. He’s right in front of me in Global History class every day and he never once turns around to chat with me anymore.