Meanicures (11 page)

“Hey.” Parker sat down beside me on the couch, his scary white
Scream
mask pushed up on his head.
“Since when do you do Halloween pranks?”

I shrugged. “It was just a few eggs.”

“What were you trying to do, act like your costume?” he asked.

Our gray tabby cat, Rudy, ran out from under the sofa, where he’d been hiding due to the constant ringing of the doorbell. Rudy doesn’t tolerate guests well. Or costumes. He took one look at me and Parker and raced away, his nails scrabbling on the wood floor, bolting for the stairs.

“So why Cassidy’s house? I thought you wanted her out of your life.”

“I did,” I said. “I mean, I do.”

“So … why would you go to her house for a party and then egg it afterward? That doesn’t make sense,” said Parker, dumping a pillowcase full of candy onto the sofa.

I took off my pointy hat and set it on his head. “When you’re older, you’ll understand. Life is complicated.”

“Ooh, deep. Maybe I could take you seriously if you weren’t dressed like a character from
The Wizard of Oz.”

“And maybe I could take you seriously if you weren’t
ten,”
I said.

Before he could continue to torment me, I ran upstairs to the bathroom and locked the door. I thought it’d take a long time to get all the face makeup off, but I used face cream and it slid right off with a couple of tissues.

Life was suddenly so much easier. So I was grounded for a few days. So what? I’d already done what I wanted to do. Ruined Cassidy’s Halloween party for her. Finally, my friends and I were coming out on the right side of things for a change.

I pictured the look on Cassidy’s face and smiled. Now she knew how it felt, being all alone, wishing she could count on a former friend.

“This is
Olivia Salinas, with this morning’s update. Partly sunny tomorrow, with a ninety percent chance of rain.” Olivia paused. “How is that
partly
sunny? And how is a ninety percent chance of rain even a
chance?
That seems more like a given. You know?

“Okay, okay! Before I get started with today’s update, I need to apologize for my last update. I guess. Though I really don’t think I did anything wrong. Oh, right. Sorry, Mr. Brooks. Sorry I used the words
ignorant
and
stupid
. Those are horrible words. Never do it again. Does that count? Okay, great.”

I had to smile as I watched Olivia breeze through her on-air apology, otherwise known as her retraction, or, as she put it, her “re-whation.”

“Now, moving on … well, we’ve got the usual assortment of exciting news,” Olivia continued. “Today’s lunch, everyone? Tacos with refried beans. Because what we all need to get through the day is a good dose of heartburn.”

Uh-oh
, I thought. I glanced around my homeroom to see how everyone else was reacting.

They were actually watching. They were laughing. And not at her
—with
her.

At least it will keep me awake in social studies, because lately it’s been soooo boring.” She smiled at the camera. “Not that the cafeteria’s tacos include anything actually spicy. Speaking of which, you want some good tacos? Come down to the Whale on Friday nights for fish tacos. When you combine my dad’s Mexican recipes with fresh fish and shellfish, yum. Tell him I sent you and he’ll throw in a free side of lime tortilla chips and salsa.

“What’s that?” Olivia glanced to the side. “Oh, sorry, Mr. B. Didn’t mean to do an on-air ad. Right. Bad call. In other announcements, the cheer squad will be selling discount coupons to the water park. The soccer team is going to sectionals, blah blah blah … Can anyone actually sit through a soccer game? I’m just asking. My sister Laney—okay, she’s only eight, she’s good and all, but my butt goes numb sitting there waiting for someone to score a goal—

“I can’t say ‘butt’? Seriously?

“Well, okay. Looks like time is running out, and like I said, most of this isn’t important. I can skip it.” She shuffled through the papers in front of her, then set them down on the desk and faced the camera again. “Basically, it’s a slow news day. But today at lunch, the Endangered Animals Club will be selling our custom T-shirts. Only eighty-nine left. You
really
want one of these. If you don’t get one, you’ll regret it. One, it’s
a great cause, as we all know. And two, anyone who doesn’t have one is going to look like an idiot. That’s all there is to it. So don’t be idiotic.

“What’s that, Mr. Brooks? Oh. I did? What did I say? Oh. Well, have a great day, Panthers, and it looks like you’ll be seeing me again tomorrow.” She smiled, showing her braces in a lopsided grin that seemed to be sort of gloating. “Go ahead, look forward to it. I know I will.”

Some people in homeroom applauded, while I had kind of a queasy feeling in my stomach. Olivia wasn’t acting like herself. Or was this her new self? Was she going to start acting as dramatically as she sometimes dressed?

“Quiet down, everyone, quiet down,” Ms. Thibault said.

“I didn’t know she was so funny,” said Justin Stahlman, who sat to my right.

“I know, right?” Bethany commented from my left. “You’re so
lucky
to be such good friends with her.”

“Dude, she’s hilarious,” said Justin. “She should do the news every day.”

“I have a feeling she probably will,” I said with a slight smile.

Halfway through math class, I felt Hunter’s hot breath on my neck. Nothing unusual about that, but today, I just didn’t feel like I had to sit there and take it.

I was about to turn around and tell him to breathe
elsewhere when he leaned forward, so he was looking over my shoulder. Not just looking over—his chin was practically perched on my shoulder.

“Madison?” he asked sort of in a whisper. “Madison?”

“That’s my name. What seems to be the problem?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been that close to a boy before, not counting wrestling with my brother. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it.

But I did know that it made me very self-conscious about my neck. Was it a normal neck? Was it too big, too small, too … necky?

Maybe it was irresistible. Maybe I needed to start wearing shirts with collars—no, turtlenecks—from now on, if this was the way Hunter acted when I sat in front of him. I still felt sort of naked without my long hair going down my back.

“You smell …”

I braced myself.

“Nice,” he said.

I let out my breath. “Really?”

“Yeah. So, uh, can I look at your work?” he asked. “I can’t figure out what he’s talking about.”

I sighed. “What else is new?” I pushed my paper over on my desk and leaned out of the way so that he could get a good look at it.

“What’s the deal with that?” Hunter pointed to question number three.

“Did you not take sixth grade?” I asked him.

“What?”

“That’s an equation. E-quay-zhun,” I said slowly. “Remember, when you see it, you know that you’re supposed to solve for x.”

Hunter looked like he was in pain, like he needed to summon the school nurse. The school pre-algebra nurse.

“You do okay in your other classes, right?” I asked.

He nodded.

I tapped my pencil against his desk. “So how can you be so stupid in this class?”

“Don’t say that.
Stupid
is not a good word.”

Great, now I was turning into clueless Olivia, insulting people right and left. “I’m sorry. Sorry! I didn’t mean—”

“Look, just because you’re good at something, doesn’t mean you can make fun of people who aren’t.”

“I know, I know.” I nodded. “I’m sorry.” I paused, trying to think of the right thing to say. “But you really don’t get any of this, and you’re slowing down our entire class, and—” I put my hand over my mouth. What was I doing? “You are hopeless about algebra.” I gulped. How had that slipped out?

“Well.” He sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, and gave me a smug look. “At least I’m
nice
. Which is more than I can say for you.” He shoved my chair forward with his feet.

I let that sink in for a moment or two, as I thought about the way Hunter usually dealt with me. “Hold on.
Since when are you nice?” I asked him. “One time you told me I looked like a hedgehog.”

“I did not,” he said.

“Did too,” I argued.

He glared at me. “Must have been the hair on your neck,” he said.

“Yeah, well.” I felt my face burning. “I bet a hedgehog could multiply better than you can.”

I decided
not to tell Olivia and Taylor what had happened with Hunter, because I was actually sort of embarrassed about it. Maybe he was a royal jerk, but since when did I insult people for not understanding math? He’d said I wasn’t nice, which was true, and the fact that Hunter Matthews could be right about something meant the world was upside down.

I took my plate of tacos and headed over to the east wall, under the PANTHER PRIDE—100 YEARS STRONG! banner, where we had set up a table to sell shirts during lunch.

“So, Olivia. How many more days do you think you’re going to be doing the morning announcement?” I asked. “A week’s worth? A month’s worth?”

I couldn’t help noticing that as we carried our trays toward our table, people were glancing up from their lunches to give her high fives and nod or say hello.

“Who knows?” she said. “Mr. Brooks says I’m controversial. What does that mean?”

“That you create controversy. You cause problems.” I set my tray down and scooted into a seat next to
Taylor. “Which tends to happen when you call people ‘stupid idiots.’ ”

“What? I never said that!” Olivia took a sip from her glass of water, then turned to her tacos. “This food needs a serious amount of salsa.”

“Yes, you did say that. Not all together at the same time, but it still counts,” Taylor said. “Do you want a summary of all the insults you delivered?” She smiled.

“There isn’t enough time, is there?” I said. Just then, Kristie Yamaka, a friend of Taylor’s from gymnastics, came up to our table.

“Hey, Taylor,” she said. “I thought maybe I could help out—you know, be a new club member?”

“Oh. Well, sorry, but there’s no room,” Taylor said abruptly.

“I can get another chair,” Kristie said. She set down her tray, looking around for a free seat. Our cafeteria’s really a zoo for the thirty-seven minutes they give us to eat lunch.

“Yeah, but there still wouldn’t be room, because look at this table, it’s not big enough, and we need room to put the shirts, so …” Taylor looked up at her and shrugged. “Sorry.”

“You could make room.” Kristie stared at her. “What is with you lately? Did you start another new club or something?”

“What do you mean?”

“A club for rude and annoying people.” Kristie picked
up her tray and stomped off across the cafeteria to find another place to sit.

“See you at the gym!” Taylor called after her.

“What’s with her?” Olivia asked.

Taylor crunched a carrot. “Supersensitive. She’s always been that way. I didn’t mean to be rude and annoying, like she said,” she said. “It just sort of squeaked out. But really, is there room here? I don’t think so.”

Suddenly there was a high-pitched squeal, followed by a loud crash. Everyone in the cafeteria stopped talking, eating, or moving.

It was Alexis. She’d been walking over to the cheerleader table when she slipped. Her tray had smashed up against her body, then dropped to the ground and landed on her shoes, covering them with shredded lettuce and chopped tomatoes. Salsa clung to her shirt. A pool of soda spread out under her feet.

Alexis was standing with her hands in the air, staring at her spilled tray and her jeans, which were now splattered with soda and salsa.

No one went to help her. Not even Cassidy, or anyone else from their table. Instead, they started applauding. Standing and applauding, with us.

“Is it wrong that I enjoyed that? Because I really enjoyed that,” Olivia said.

Alexis scurried out of the cafeteria, running for cover.

“She totally needs one of these,” said Olivia, patting the pile of T-shirts for sale.

“Yeah, we should find her and give her one,” I said.