How To Be A Perfect Girl (29 page)

“Mean? I’m not being mean, I’m just being
honest. The only reason I ever gave you a second look is because
you threw yourself at me—‘Do you think I’m attractive, Porter?’” he
mocked.

Val couldn’t stop the tears from falling any
longer; she sucked wind and stared at a patch of green grass.
“I—I—“ she couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, she gave
Porter a look that she hoped conveyed the depth of the hurt his
words had caused, and then walked off the field. It took all of
Val’s strength not to run, but she forced herself to keep a slow
pace.

“Whoa there,” Mr. Sharp jogged up, “What’s
wrong, Blondie?”

Val didn’t reply; she just
kept walking till she hit the locker room, which was blissfully
empty. She let all of her emotions fall;
it’s not true,
she kept telling
herself,
nothing he said was
true.

Val stayed there for what seemed an
eternity. She finally got up when girls started filtering in from
the class; “Hey, are you ok?” Ella asked, “I saw you leave.”

“I guess, I just—“ Val shook her head, “I
just needed to get out of there.”

Ella nodded; they both finished changing and
headed to their separate Homeroom classes.

Dylan was there, “Sup, Longnose.”

Val glared at the boy; she shook her head
and went to her usual seat in the middle of the room.

“What’s the problem,
Longnose? Got your proboscis slammed in the door or something?”
Dylan and Isaac laughed.
I thought he’d be
nicer since what happened on Friday,
Val
sighed; she knew she should have known better than to expect decent
treatment from the boy.

Aaliyah smiled at Val when she entered
class; “Hey Val,” she said brightly, “How are you?”

Val sighed, “Pretty bad.”

“Oh dear! Why?”

“Cause she hasn’t stuck her nose in anyone’s
business for a while and it’s starting to affect her emotionally,”
Dylan supplied.

Aaliyah glared at him, “Yeah, cause Val’s
smart enough not to pick fights she can’t win. Unlike you—or is
your memory so bad that you’ve already forgotten about Friday
night?”

Dylan looked like he wanted to reply, but he
thought better of it and hastily started a conversation with
Isaac.

“Jerk,” Aaliyah shook her head, “I can’t
believe he’d be like that to you after what happened.”

Val sighed, “I can.”

“Yeah—I guess it
is
Dylan, after
all.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Aaliyah frowned, “So for real, why are you
‘pretty bad’?”

Val shrugged, “You know Porter, right?”
Aaliyah nodded; “He just said some really mean things.”

“Oh, okay. That’s weird, he’s always seemed
like a nice guy to me.” Aaliyah shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Carrie arrived just before the bell; she sat
next to Val.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Val pulled out her
phone, “Alex wanted me to ask you guys if you want to go to his
party on Friday.”

“Another party? I’m still recovering from
the last one—“ Aaliyah looked around to see if Dylan was listening,
then added, “And Dylan is too.”

The joke evoked a weak giggle from Val, “You
don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’ll text you the details so
you can make the choice either way.”

“Cool. You’re going, though?” Aaliyah
asked.

“Yeah. Keenan and I are going together, and
Porter’s driving us.”

“Oh—oh,” Aaliyah frowned, “But that’ll be
awkward, won’t it? Cause of—whatever he said?”

Val nodded, “Yup, but I don’t really see any
way out of it now.”

“I don’t think I’ll go,” Carrie
announced.

“You won’t?” Aaliyah turned to face the
brunette, “Why not?”

Carrie shrugged, “I don’t think parties are
really my thing. That last one was, just—I felt out of place the
whole time. No offense, Aaliyah.”

“None taken. You sure you don’t wanna
go?”

“Yeah. I have a lot of homework anyway.”

Aaliyah returned her gaze to Val, “Well then
it’s settled. I’m going.”

“Why?” Val couldn’t help but ask; Aaliyah’s
decision was obviously related to Carrie’s, but she couldn’t see
how.

“Cause I wanna tell Porter what I think of
him being mean to you—it’d help if you tell me specifically what he
said—“ Val’s friend trailed off.

“He said that no one likes me and that he
only liked me because I ‘threw myself at him’.”

“Oh—well that’s just not true!” Aaliyah
smiled warmly, “I like you, and Carrie likes you. As for that other
part, if it’s true, it’s more of an insult to him than you.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. If he thought you were throwing
yourself at him, any decent guy would have put a stop to it. He was
dating that one senior the whole time, right?”

“Avery,” Val nodded, “Yeah.”

“Well there you have it,” Aaliyah leaned
back in her desk, “If he was dating someone else, he shouldn’t have
let you throw yourself at him—you know, if you really did.”

“I didn’t
think
I did,” Val replied
pensively.

“I bet you didn’t. Boys are terrible at
that—they see all sorts of signs where there aren’t any, and read
way too much into like the most innocent conversations.”

Val nodded.

“Anyway, don’t you worry, I’ll tell him
explicitly how much of a jerk he is—and to think, I used to have a
crush on him.”

“You did?”

Aaliyah giggled, “Oh yeah. I mean, just a
week ago I was thinking how lucky you were for being the only
freshman girl he talked to.”

“Lucky? Oh yeah, really
lucky,” Val replied sarcastically. She looked at the room’s clock;
it read 9:45.
Only six minutes more of this
class, and then Italian, Drawing, Lunch, Chemistry, NHS, and
soccer.
Val groaned.

“What?” Aaliyah asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how much
longer I have to be in school today.”

The brown-eyed girl laughed, “Yeah, we’re
not even halfway through.”

“Yeah—I just want today to be over.”

“Me too,” Aaliyah agreed, “This week’s been
long.”

Val nodded, “I couldn’t agree more.” The
bell rang.

“Well, hang in there,” Aaliyah said as she
lifted her bag, “And if you see Porter again, kick him in the
shins.”

Val laughed, “Okay, I
will.” Talking with her friend had made her feel a lot
better;
Porter was wrong, people here do
like me.
She walked with Carrie to their
Italian class in near-silence; Val had no desire to make
small-talk, and Carrie was not the type of girl to fill the
silence.

Italian class was taken up by the making of
flash cards; Miss Wells had each student make their own, complete
with pictures. Val spent a long time in their pictures—even though
her artistry wasn’t spectacular, she judged that her
representations of ‘brother’, ‘sister’, ‘old man’, and the other
vocab words was sufficient, if a little juvenile. For family
members Val had come up with the idea of drawing a family tree and
circling specific members, an idea that Carrie praised and copied.
“Hey,” the nerdy girl said, “I’m not opposed to using someone
else’s ideas as long as they’re good.”

The process of creating flash cards more
than filled Val’s art quota for the day; in Drawing she pretended
to work while having nothing conversations with Sophia and Miro.
The lunch bell rang and, as had become her habit, Val was first out
the door.

She arrived in the cafeteria to find Jenny
sitting in her spot. “Oh, hello, Valentina,” the pig-nosed girl
greeted, “I was just saving you a seat.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” Val murmured, accepting
the seat across from Ella and Zoey; Sophia sat down beside her.

“Don’t mention it. I was just telling our
friends here all about how your mom got rich,” Jenny continued,
“With that one—clasp thing? I heard it made a whole half a million
dollars.”

“Uh, yeah,” Val looked at the other girl
warily.

Jenny laughed; it was a mean laugh. “Oh
dear, and how much did that mansion you moved into cost?”

Val shrugged, “I dunno.”

“I do,” Jenny replied excitedly, “It cost
six-hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars, meaning—“ Jenny
faked a sympathetic frown, “—that your family is practically
bankrupt.”

“So?”

“Nothing—“ Jenny smiled, “I’m just saying,
it makes sense now why you bring all your lunches from home.”

“I bring my own lunches cause I don’t like
the food here.”

“Oh, sure,” Jenny winked, “It’s a great way
to save a few dollars, I’ll give you that. It’s just, some of us
don’t need to be quite so—tight—with our money.”

Sophia grimaced, “Are
you
really
poor,
Val?”

“I’m not poor; honestly, I don’t know how
much money my parents have, but it was obviously enough to get me
in here.”

Jenny cleared her throat, “Was it? Or did
the Principal just let you in cause you promised to date one of her
sons?”

“What? No! I mean—obviously not,” Val
huffed.

“Oh, then was it blowing her other son?”
Jenny said crudely, “That was what you agreed on?”

“What?” the Trio asked loudly; Val would
have laughed at their asking the question in unison, except the
situation was most definitely not funny.

“Deary me, I thought you would have told
your friends about that one, Val.” Jenny leaned across the table,
“You mean you guys didn’t hear—that was why she was gone on
Friday.”

“I didn’t—we didn’t—“ Val stuttered.

“Bu—but—“ Jenny mocked, “Don’t be a liar,
Val. Own up to it. You stole Avery’s boyfriend and you should be
proud.”

“You mean—you did that with another guy, who
was with another girl?” Sophia asked incredulously; she scooted
away from Val.

“No,” Val repeated, “We just ate lunch
together! It was literally nothing.”

“Come on girls, let’s sit somewhere less
poor—and less skanky,” Jenny suggested; she got up, and the Trio
followed her. Val ate the rest of her lunch in silence, filled with
shock at what had just occurred.

The next few hours were a blur; the Trio’s
behavior at lunch only seemed to support Porter’s insults from
earlier, and left Val feeling even worse than before. Keenan tried
to joke with Val in Chemistry, but she was in no mood. “What’s up
with you?” he finally asked, “You seem depressed.”

“I’m not depressed, it’s just people here
are mean.”

“You mean the people here besides me?”
Keenan laughed.

Val shrugged, “Sure.”

“Okay, Miss Frowney Face, tell me what’s
wrong.”

“I’m just sad, okay?” The words came out
angrier than Val intended.

“Fine,” Keenan turned away from her. He
didn’t talk the rest of the lesson; Val knew she had hurt his
feelings.

“I’m sorry,” Val apologized as they were
leaving class, “I just—it hasn’t been a good day.”

“I can tell,” Keenan replied, “Oh well, you
have our—fourth—date to look forward to tomorrow, right?”

Val grimaced, “Yeah, sure.”

“Why that expression? Aren’t you excited for
Alex’s party?”

“I guess. Have you asked Porter if he’s
willing to drive us?”

“Not yet, but I know he’ll be cool with it.
Trust me, it’ll be fun.”

“I trust you,” Val tried to make it sound
like she meant it; Keenan frowned, but didn’t press the issue.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Yup.” They parted ways; Keenan turned off
for the main stairwell that led to Palm Lake’s exit, whereas Val
headed to NHS. Derrick was already in the room, along with a half
dozen others; Val waved at him and walked over.

“Hey,” she said, unsure how Derrick would
behave toward her.

“Hey!” he replied brightly. When Val didn’t
further the conversation, he filled the gap, “I heard what Porter
said to you in Flag Football; I told him he was being a dick.”

“Oh, thanks.” Val sighed, “Do you think he
meant what he said, Derrick?”

Derrick frowned and shook his head, “I
think—I think that he was trying to get back Avery, and in his mind
the only way to do that was to say what he said to you, knowing it
would get back to her. It didn’t work though—Porter told me she was
even worse to him than before.”

“Why?” Val asked;
anything that hurts me ought to make her
happy.

“I don’t know. If I had to guess—and this is
only a guess—I’d say that she saw the way he treated you as proof
that something happened. I mean, think about it; no one would go to
that much trouble to act like they were over someone unless they
felt like they had a lot to prove.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I trust you, though, so I know that nothing
happened—which is why I talked with Porter. This is about Avery’s
trust issues; she was the one who blew this out of proportion. And
dragging you into it is not only not fair, it’s—“ Derrick looked at
Val with a soft expression, “Well, I just want you to know that you
do have friends at Palm Lake, and not just guys who want to get
with you, either. Contrary to what my blockhead of a friend might
say.”

Val smiled, “Thanks Derrick,” she pulled him
close in a hug; at first the boy stood stiff as a board, but he
eventually returned the hug.

“Ahem—may I have your attention?” Colin
spoke from the front of the room, “If I may bring this room to
order—alright. Ladies and gentleman, our assignment of the day is
to fill the gaps in leadership left by recently graduating NHS
members; also, if anyone believes that one of the current officers
should be replaced, they can make a motion now. So, does anyone
want to petition for the removal of any current officers?”

“This should be good,” Derrick whispered,
“The only people who motion for an officer’s removal are usually
the ones who want the position for themselves.”