Perfect Revenge

K.L. Denman

orca
currents

Copyright © 2009 K.L. Denman

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Denman, K.L., 1957-Perfect revenge / written by K.L. Denman.

(Orca currents)

ISBN 978-1-55469-103-6 (bound).--ISBN 978-1-55469-102-9 (pbk.)

I. Title. II. Series.

PS8607.E64P47 2009         jC813'.6       C2008-907664-8

Summary:
Stripped of her popularity, Lizzie is willing to do anything to exact her revenge. She's even willing to turn to magic.

First published in the United States, 2009

Library of Congress Control Number:
2008942005

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

Cover design by Teresa Bubela

Cover photography by Getty Images

Orca Book Publishers                               Orca Book Publishers
PO Box 5626 Station B                                        PO Box 468  
Victoria, BC Canada                                      Custer, WA USA
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www.orcabook.com

Printed and bound in Canada.

Printed on 100% PCW recycled paper.

12  11  10  09  •  4  3  2  1

For Mom, who exemplifies the beauty of empathy and the joy found in laughter.

I invoke the power of three,

But stand aside to relate,

There's a duo found in trinity,

Kindred spirits who create.

She of the high meadows,

And the goddess of the moon,

They peer among the shadows

For word-spells out of tune.

I thank this special pair

Without naming, not this time,

For while they're not so holy,

They would spare you this rhyme.

The universe is full of magical things, patiently
waiting for our wits to grow sharper
.

—Eden Phillpotts

Everything is going my way. It's no accident that this is how it is. I've earned it. Like this morning, I put on my new skirt and my new lip gloss, and the mirror says it's all perfect. Combine that with my amazing shiny hair, and I'm good to go.

It's too bad I'm only going to school, but that's okay. If nothing else, school is great for hanging with my group of friends. Not just any group,
the
group in my grade. They're gathered in the usual place, the
covered area by the side door. When I get there, everyone's all, “Hey, Lizzie! How's it going, Lizzie? Oooh! That skirt is hot! Where'd you get it? You always find the best stuff!”

And then, a whisper, “There he is! Omigod, Liz, it's him.”

It
is
him. Kyle, my crush.

“Lizzie, don't look now, but he's walking this way!”

I don't look. I say something to Haley about her hair. I pretend that Kyle doesn't exist right until the last minute when I can
feel
him passing. And then I look. It's no more than a quick glance in his direction, totally casual. Our eyes connect. I smile.

He smiles back!

And that's it. He goes by and I laugh with my friends like it was nothing. Of course, they saw the smile. Haley says, “He likes you, Liz. I can tell. He is
so
over Rachel.”

Rachel, the pathetic wannabe.

It's like this. I am in the group of girls who have “it.” We naturally shine. If the
girls in our grade were an eye-shadow palette, my group would be the main color base, the glowing center. The other groups would be the smaller pockets of color, optional extras. Sometimes their colors blend with ours. Rachel's copycat group is like a beige highlight, useful sometimes— but not necessary. Rachel so wishes she could be part of
us
, like she once was.

She still gets to talk to us sometimes. She still has access to certain information, like if one of us wants something, she hears about it. So she
knew
about my interest in Kyle, and she had the nerve to move in on him anyway. It was just, like, so wrong of her to do that. This is why I had to do what I did.

I turn to Haley. “They lasted for, what, five days?”

She giggles. “If that. Once he heard about you know what, he was done with her.”

I shrug and say, “Did I mention how nice it is that your Josh is best friends with my Kyle?”

She nods. “You did mention it. But he's not
your
Kyle yet, girl.”

I blink at her. “You know it's going to happen. You saw his smile. He wants me. And you know he's in my science class, right?”

She does an eye roll. “I think you might have told me, like, fifty times.”

“That is so not the point. It's just that I think it would be perfect to get him for a lab partner. Any ideas on how I can make that happen?”

Her brow wrinkles in thought, but then she sighs. “Sorry. The only thing I've got is, you ask the teacher for a switch. But then he could stick you with anyone, right? Although...”

“What?” I ask.

Haley arches her brows. “How are your grades in science?”

It's my turn to do an eye roll.

“Then how about this. You tell the teacher you need a better partner, someone who's good at the labs. Kyle is really smart.”

“He is?” I ask.

“Oh yeah, for sure. Didn't you know that?” Haley blinks a few times, waiting for me to show gratitude for this information. When I merely shrug, she adds, “Josh told me that Kyle gets, like, ninety-five percent on
everything
. He studies really hard.”

“Are you kidding?” I need a moment to consider this. Kyle is cute
and
he's smart? Do I want a boyfriend who's smarter than me? Hmmm. On the other hand...I grin at Haley and say, “It's worth a try, right?”

Science isn't until last period. The day drags past—an off day with no more Kyle sightings. When the wait is finally over, I get to class a bit early. As I'm walking in, Rachel is walking out. She says, “Oh. Hey, Lizzie. How's it going?”

I give her my widest smile and say, “Great. How's it going with you?”

She smiles back. “It's all good. I'm glad we ran into each other. I have something for you.” She pulls a folded wad of paper from her purse and holds it out.

“What's this?” I ask.

“Take it,” she urges. “It's a gift. Just to show there's no hard feelings.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Hard feelings? Why would there be hard feelings?”

She shrugs. “No reason. Anyway, I just want to give you this. Here.”

I have no choice but to take the paper. “Thanks,” I say, as I stuff it into my purse.

“You're welcome,” she says. There's something in her eyes that doesn't match her smile, and I get a little chill.

The chill from Rachel melts when I spot Kyle on the other side of the lab. He's early too. I take my seat and gaze in the general direction of the teacher. Mr. Sparks happens to be standing near Kyle, and when I slide my glance a little to the left, omigod! Our eyes meet. Not mine and Mr. Sparks' eyes, mine and Kyle's.

Kyle grins and stands up. He's coming my way when Mr. Sparks says, “Be seated, everyone. Books on the floor. Pens and calculators only for this exam.”

Exam?

Someone asks, “Are we allowed scrap paper?”

Mr. Sparks says, “Yes, scrap paper is allowed. But be careful. I'll be checking that the scrap is blank.”

Exam?

I turn to my current lab partner, Mandy. She's okay, totally dope for someone in the optional shadow colors. The way our school just randomly sticks us in classes, backup people like her are necessary for social survival. I ask her, “Did you know we're having an exam today?”

“Wow,” she says, “can you believe it?”

“Did the teacher even tell us?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don't know. Should I ask him?”

I blink at her. “Sure.”

Mandy puts up her hand. When Mr. Sparks notices, he says, “Yes?”

“Um, Mr. Sparks. Did you, like, warn us about this?”

He sighs. “Yes, Mandy. I mentioned it
several times. And it's been posted on the blackboard for a week.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Mr. Sparks sweeps his gaze around the room, sees that most everyone is settled and starts handing out the exam. I sneak a peek at Kyle, and he looks totally serious, like he's already focused on his test.

I have no idea what this exam is about. Periodic table of the elements? Forms of energy? What have we been doing in here anyway? I know what I've been doing, and it wasn't science. Unless a crush is part of biology? The thought makes me giggle, but I cover that up with a cough and scrounge in my purse for a pen. Oh, and some scrap paper too. That's allowed.

My hand closes around the wad of paper Rachel gave me. I pull that out along with a pen. Mr. Sparks drops the test on our table and moves on. When everyone has a copy, he says, “All right, class. You'll have the entire period to write the exam. If you finish before the bell, please remain seated and use that time to review your answers.
This counts for twenty percent of your final grade. You may begin.”

A tense silence descends on the room— the silence that only happens during exams. The only sounds are those of paper shuffling, throats clearing and the scratching of pens. I look at the first question.

1. Gastric juice is composed of mucus, hydrochloric acid, water and digestive enzymes. The purpose of the mucus is to:

A. digest proteins into smaller particles

B. prevent the gastric juice from digesting the stomach

C. assist the hydrochloric acid with digestion

D. prevent heartburn from occurring

I feel sick. Mucus? I didn't pay attention when Mr. Sparks talked about that stuff. I couldn't. I mean, who wants to know about mucus? Not me. Isn't science supposed to be about satisfying curiosity? Who was the geek that was curious about mucus?

I glance at my wad of paper and realize that
this
makes me curious. What does Rachel's note say? Judging by the size of it, she had a lot to say.

I unfold the wad and...what the heck? It looks like the science test. She gave me her test? Where's the note? I start flipping through the pages, looking on both sides, and I can't find her note anywhere. And then Mr. Sparks is behind me, peering over my shoulder.

“Well, well,” he says. “Lizzie Lane. This is a surprise.”

“Excuse me?” I say.

“Absolutely,” he says. His voice gets louder. “You are excused. You may go directly to the principal's office and wait for me there.”

“Uh...why?”

He snorts. Literally snorts. “The consequences of cheating aren't obvious?”

“Cheating?”

“Oh, for pity's sake! I find you with my exam answer key and you're going to pretend it's invisible? Or am I supposed to
believe it just magically appeared on your table?”

“Answer key?” He's getting through to me now. “You mean this exam has the answers on it?” I look again, and sure enough, the answers are typed right beside the questions. I wasn't looking for type print, I was looking for handwriting. Rachel's handwriting.