Reel Life Starring Us (5 page)

I look up.

“Are you getting started? Not to put pressure on you, but you and Chelsea are already behind, you know. The event is in a little less than two months.”

“Yeah, I'm writing down all the ideas I have.” I smile, but for some reason he doesn't respond. “I have my camera and everything.”

“Okeydokey.”

Finally, Chelsea and her friends stroll in. They're carrying Dunkin' Donuts cups. And I thought I was the only eighth grader who drank coffee. I got the habit from my bubbie and her friends. They always sit around sipping coffee and eating babka and telling jokes, and I join them whenever I can. It's a grandmas-telling-jokes club, and even though I'm nowhere near grandma age, I really enjoy it. I've been doing it since I was really little, like six or seven, which is how I developed a love for coffee. I don't believe that whole it'll-stunt-your-growth thing.

“You're late,” Mr. Valakis says to them.

“We were in Mr. Oliver's office,” one of Chelsea's friends says, talking with her back to Mr. Valakis as she walks to her seat.

“With coffee?”

“Uh-huh,” another friend says. “We were discussing the anniversary gala. Our moms were there, too, and they brought coffee for everyone.”

Mr. Valakis squints a little like he doesn't quite believe them. “I see.”

Chelsea and her friends keep sipping their coffee as they start to work on their project. I expect Chelsea to come over to me to get to work on ours. But she doesn't. She stays with them.

I just sit here. I want to go over to them. I want to tell Chelsea my ideas, but I feel like I can't.

The clock on the wall with the oversized numbers ticks loudly, and I stare at it, noticing minute after minute go by. We literally haven't done a single thing on this project. It's only my second day here and I'm already a delinquent. Everyone around me is working.

This isn't me. I'm not that girl, the one who didn't do what she was supposed to do.

I stare at my notebook and keep writing stuff. That way
if anyone asks, I can just say I'm jotting down ideas for the project. Which I am. Trying to, at least.

“Chelsea,” Mr. Valakis calls out to her. “Please get to work. I don't want to have to say it again.”

She huffs like someone offended her and stands up. Her friends say things like “Good luck, Chels” and “Bye, Chelsers, have fun” in these totally sarcastic, mocking tones.

After Chelsea sits down next to me, she starts talking. “So we just had this meeting with Mr. Oliver. He's our principal—you know that, right? Anyway, my friends convinced me to see if I could get switched onto the science projects group with them, but apparently he feels really strongly about this video thing and he thinks I can do a good job with it.” She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, well, obviously I need your help learning about the school.” I hear her friends in the back of the room talking and laughing. I try to ignore them. “But I can handle the video stuff.”

She stands up, puts her hands on her hips, and yells to her friends to be quiet. Then she sits back down.

“Well, we'll just get it done as quickly as we can.” She takes the last sip of coffee. “But we're gonna have to meet after school in the library to do the shooting. We can't disrupt any classes during the school day.”

“Oh.” I try to stop myself from jumping up and down in my seat. Chelsea and me, hanging out after school! This is great. And I didn't have to say it first! This is my chance to have friends the way I thought I would. My chance to be someone here. My chance to be happy here.

“Yeah, I know.” She rolls her eyes again. She thinks I'm upset. Wow—I didn't realize I was that hard to read. “Anyway, meet me in the library after ninth period. We'll see what we can do.”

I nod. The bell rings, and everyone leaves the classroom.

I walk out alone, but I don't dwell on it. I feel hopeful. I feel like things are looking up.

Sasha Preston piece of advice: Compliment
someone at least once a day. It makes everyone happy.

“They're hot, right?” Molly asks.
We're in the cafeteria finishing lunch and she's standing up with her back to us and her head turned over her shoulder, like a wannabe supermodel. “Three hundred. But they only made, like, fifty pairs, so they're kind of like a collectible.”

“Yeah, I'm on the waiting list at Denim Spectator. They're trying to see if they can find me a pair. They've even called the manufacturer,” Kendall adds.

The thing with Kendall is that she always has to have exactly what everyone else has. It started when she and I had the same baby fur coat in playgroup when we were two years old, and it's been that way ever since. Usually, I'm the one she tries to clone, but she's been acting more like Molly lately.
I wonder if it's because she's noticed that I don't have the newest, coolest stuff before everyone else does anymore.

I should have those jeans. I'm the one who got everyone into the brand in the first place after I went to the trunk show with my dad and one of his colleagues. I hate that I get into a bad mood just because I don't have those jeans, and won't ever have those jeans.

“Are you getting them, Chels?” Kendall asks.

“Yeah, of course.” I smile. “I just haven't been shopping so much because of the mono.”

“Well, if Denim Spectator finds me a pair, I'll just pick them up for you and you can pay me back,” she says. “No problem.”

I nod and swallow hard. I pray they don't find them. It's weird Kendall cares about me having them. Usually, she's only concerned that she has what everyone else has.

“Sucks you have to hang out with that girl after school,” Kendall says. “I'm so sorry we didn't get you into our science group. I totally thought buttering up Mr. Oliver with Dunkin' Donuts would work.”

I guess I made them feel guilty, so they did end up fighting to work with me—for a few minutes, at least—so that was good.

“Yeah, I have to meet up with the new girl. How else am I gonna finish the stupid video?” I eat the last section of my
clementine. “I shouldn't have laughed in front of Mr. Valakis. Apparently, he doesn't have a sense of humor.”

They both shrug. “That girl is strange,” Molly says. “The way she videos random stuff. She doesn't even have any friends here, so what's she videoing?” Molly stares at Dina as she talks about her. Molly doesn't even try to be slick when she's talking about people. It's like she wants them to know she's talking about them.

“I have no idea.” I look over at Dina. She's sitting only one table away from us, and I wonder if she can hear what we're saying. I hope not; that would make the whole working together thing even more awkward.

She's sitting with the studying-obsessed girls who wanted to start a field hockey team last year. They never seem to really like each other, either. They sit quietly at lunch with books on their laps, studying and barely talking to each other. Dina has her camera out of course, and she's just randomly taping the cafeteria. Who does that?

We're all watching her, and then we see Ross walk over to her.

“Guys, Ross Grunner is walking over to that girl right now,” Molly says, as if we can't all see it ourselves.

He kneels down next to Dina's seat and whispers something to her. She looks all confused, then she smiles and says something back, and then he gets up and walks away.

I can't look, and yet all I want to do is look. I keep looking away and then turning to look again. It could have been a bad clementine, but my stomach is doing flips right now.

“Aren't you going to stop that, Chels?” Kendall asks. “Ross is talking to the new girl more than he's talking to you.”

I don't say anything. It's not really that big of a deal, but the way they're reacting is stressing me out. I'm ripping my clementine peel into a million little pieces.

“We should make a video of her!” Kendall yelps. “And, like, show it to people and stuff. Wouldn't that be hilarious?”

“Do you know how to even use a camera, Ken?” Molly elbows Kendall. “Come on.”

“Yeah, there's one on my phone!”

Finally, the bell rings and we all leave the cafeteria. I block out the fact that Ross was just talking to Dina and I have absolutely no idea why. I block out the fact that it seems like Kendall wants to torment the new girl.

Have they really stooped that low? Have
I
stooped that low, too?

After school, I meet Dina in the library. She's sitting at one of the back tables, writing in a Curious George notebook. It's one of those thick, sturdy ones, with a red binding and a bright yellow cover, and I immediately want it. I have a soft spot for
school supplies. I'm staring at it so I almost trip on one of the blue library carts that's sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Oh, sorry,” this kid says, running over to move it.

“Don't worry about it,” I say. I can't think of his name. He was new last year, but he hasn't been in any of my classes. I think something happened to him over the summer—he's turned cute out of nowhere. He has ultrashort brown hair and very blue eyes. You don't see that combination very often.

As I get closer to Dina, I notice how neat her handwriting is and spot the pretty turquoise ring on her middle finger.

There are cool things about her when you take the time to pay attention. Maybe Ross realized that.

“Hey,” I say. I want to compliment her on her notebook and her ring, but I don't. The words don't come out.

“Oh, hi!” Dina's way too cheery for three fifteen, and it bugs me when people are too cheery for no reason at all. I want to tell her to cheer down. “I was just jotting down notes. I have a million ideas, but here's the best one: I can tape and you can be the star of the video! Like how Mr. Valakis said ‘a day in the life' of a student here. Well, this can be a day in your life!”

“Um.” At first, I think that sounds like an amazing idea. Who doesn't want to be a star? It could be like my own reality show, a camera following me around. Then I could
be discovered and become the next Sasha Preston. But after I think about it for a few minutes, I change my mind. “That would be cool, but I don't think so.”

“Why not?” she asks. “You know everyone at school, you've lived here awhile, you're perfect for ‘a day in the life of a Rockwood Hills student.' I'll do all the shooting and editing and putting it all together. You'd just have to be you!”

“I said no.” Dina doesn't even know me. How does she know I'd be a good star for the video? I can't look at her, so I look at my phone instead. Kendall sent a text about how they're all going to Ross's house to order in sushi and play video games and I should meet up with them. I don't want to be here, but I'm not sure I want to be there, either. I'm sure everyone is already talking about their plans for winter break and if they're flying first-class. And I'm a little sick of Kendall and Molly trying to convince me that I like Ross. I'm not sure I do. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Dina says under her breath, like she knows she's been defeated, and she stays quiet for a few minutes.

“It just wouldn't be good to focus on one person in the video,” I say as an excuse because I feel bad but also because I can't stand the awkward silence anymore. “I know it's a day in the life, but we should focus on more than one person.”

There. That's a good explanation, if I do say so myself, and I bet she'll be into that idea because she probably wants to meet people around here. Yeah, she's only been here two days, but she barely talks to anyone, not even to the girls she eats lunch with.

“Oh!” she yells suddenly. “I have an idea! I can just get random shots of the school and kids in the hallways and we can put upbeat, fun music over it, and it can show all kids in their natural school environment. It'll be all B-roll.”

“B-roll?” Right when I start to feel bad about being rude to her, she gets way too excited about something and starts using weird video terms and I feel myself getting annoyed with her all over again.

“Yeah, it means, like, background shots, shots of the surroundings, and people walking around and stuff. But I think it would be neat for this,” she says.

I text Kendall that I'm stuck at school working on the video and can't come to Ross's house, but that she has to tell me everything that happens as soon as she's home. “That could be okay, I guess.”

Dina huffs. I guess she senses my lack of enthusiasm. “Well, you've lived here a long time, haven't you? Don't you have any ideas?”

My phone vibrates again, a text from Molly this time.