The Comeback (3 page)

T
hat afternoon, I headed to rehearsal happily, assuming that my tiff with Connor would blow over. As I walked by the vending machines on the way to the auditorium, Alexa Campbell ran smack into me. She was eating a chocolate bar, which she managed to get all over my pristine white shirt.

“I…I…I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “Don't tell my mom, please.”

Alexa's mom owned a successful chain of weight-loss facilities.

“I don't need to tell your mom you're sneaking chocolate—it's obvious from looking at you.” The words just popped out of my mouth.

“What a bitch,” I heard someone behind me say, as (of course) Alexa burst into tears.

Belatedly, I remembered how Monet was always reminding me to think before I spoke.

“It's okay, Alexa,” I said. But she just cried harder.

I ignored the mutterings behind me as I tried to console her. Geesh, some people were so sensitive.

“Here, let me wipe it off,” she said.

“No!” I said. But it was too late. Now there was a huge chocolate smear across my chest.

I glared at Alexa and she started to cry again. Giving up, I went into the bathroom and dabbed at it with some wet paper towels, but the stain didn't come off. Now it was a
wet
chocolate smear.

I checked my watch. I was going to be late. There wasn't time to go back to my locker and change into a new shirt. Of course I had an extra outfit or two in there. A girl had to look her best or risk the ridicule of the world.

I squared my shoulders. Looked like it would be ridicule today, but if anyone could handle it, it was me. After all, popularity had its privileges.

Most of the cast was already onstage by the time I made it to the auditorium. There was no sign of Monet or Mr. Fanelli yet, so the volume was loud as everyone chatted or ran lines. We were supposed to be off book in a week, but some people were still having trouble.

“Hi, babe,” I said to Connor. I put a hand to his blond hair and leaned in for a kiss. To my shock, he shied away.

“Uh, Sophie, we need to talk,” he said.

The room went deadly silent, which should have been a clue, but I didn't catch on.

“Sure,” I said. “What about?”

He glanced at Angie. She nodded encouragingly. Not one blonde hair was out of place, and suddenly I remembered my chocolate-stained, damp top.

What was going on? Since when did my boyfriend need permission from Angie to talk to me?

I looked at him inquiringly, but he was silent.

“Say what you want to say,” I said, “so we can get on with rehearsal.”

In hindsight, this probably wasn't the best approach, but in my defense, I had no idea what was coming next.

Angie wrapped an arm proprietarily around Connor's and whispered in his ear.

Connor cleared his throat. “True love can't be thwarted,” he said dramatically.

“What are you talking about?”

“I think we should see other people,” he said.

My jaw dropped. Someone in the back of the room laughed. My face grew hot and I held on to my temper with difficulty.

Angie was obviously behind Connor's sudden urge to date other people. They weren't even trying to hide it.

Rage boiled in my blood and I took a step toward her. My only desire was to hurt her as much as I'd been hurt.

I don't know what would have happened, but Dev stepped in between us. “Why don't you and Sophie take this conversation somewhere more private?” he suggested to Connor quietly. “Angie and I will wait here.”

I turned and marched off into the hallway, confident that Connor would follow me. Otherwise, he would have a full-scale scene on his hands.

It was all just a big misunderstanding, I was sure of it. I was relieved to find the hallway deserted, though. I didn't think I could take another public humiliation.

That was, until Connor said flatly, “It's over, Sophie. It just happened.”

“You mean with Angie,” I replied. It wasn't a question.

“I'm sorry,” he said, staring at his hands.

What could I say to that? I nodded, unable to speak over the lump in my throat, and gathered the shreds of my dignity. Connor didn't say anything else but rushed back to rehearsal.
To his new love, Angie,
I thought bitterly.

I waited until he was out of sight to burst into tears. I made a run for the refuge of the bathroom. It was empty, thankfully. I never thought Connor would
humiliate me like this. I burst into hot tears but knew that I didn't have the luxury of a good cry. My eyes swell up something fierce and I end up with little piggy eyes. Not a very attractive image, especially if I wanted the cast and crew to think I was okay.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, I splashed cold water on my face, careful to avoid my mascara.

I was numb as I walked back to rehearsal. I hadn't seen it coming,
me
, the girl who had so carefully traversed the dangerous world of high school cliques.

Monet rushed up to me as I reentered the auditorium. “Dev told me what happened. Connor is a complete moron to break up with you in front of the entire cast like that!”

“Yes, he is,” I replied, “but I'm an even bigger one for trusting him in the first place.”

“Why don't you skip rehearsal tonight? Everyone would understand,” she said.

I plastered a fake smile on my face. “There's no way I'm giving Angie Vogel the satisfaction.”

I walked over to Dev. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get this over with,” I snapped.

He looked at me sympathetically, which made me want to punch him.

“What's your problem?” I said. I was being a total bitch to him and it wasn't even his fault, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

Dev didn't respond to my nasty behavior. Instead,
he flipped open his playbook and gave me my prompt.

I tried to keep my mind on my role, but I couldn't help dwelling on my current situation. The breakup would be all over the school tomorrow and there would be no possibility of spinning it that it was a mutual decision. Not after the center-stage dumping I'd just received.

T
he next morning I woke up with a sore throat, watery eyes, and a fever.

I dragged myself to the kitchen table, where Mom had breakfast ready. I poured myself a glass of orange juice. It hurt to swallow, but I gulped it down.

“You look terrible,” Mom said. “You must be coming down with something.” She picked up the phone.

“What are you doing?” I said.

“Calling the absence line, of course. You can't go to school like that,” she said.

“No!” I said. I would be crucified if I didn't go to school. Everyone would assume I'd slunk off to lick my wounds.

“I mean, I'm fine, Mom. And I have a test today that I don't want to miss,” I lied, I hoped believably.

Mom put down the phone, but she didn't look convinced. “Sophie,” she hesitated, but then continued, “is
everything okay? I haven't seen Connor around here in a few days.”

“Mom, everything is fine. I see him every day in school. And we have rehearsals.” All of which was true. I did see Connor; I just left out the part where he was “rehearsing” with someone else now.

I would have to tell my mom that Connor and I broke up. Eventually. But I needed time this morning to get ready and if I told her the truth, I'd never make it in time.

Post-breakup wardrobe was crucial. I couldn't look like a trollop or a nun. No black, despite its slimming effects, or people would say I was in mourning.

I was kind of regretting the pint of Baskin-Robbins Monet and I had downed the night before, but it was a ritual we'd indulged in since the seventh grade when Stan Reno dumped her for a cheerleader. He'd had breath like a pit bull with indigestion, but Monet had been crushed.

“Finish your breakfast,” Mom said. “And take some daytime cold medicine.”

Thinking about the breakup had made me lose my appetite, but I managed to force down a few more spoonfuls of oatmeal, which seemed to satisfy her.

I went upstairs and dug out my favorite designer jeans and a turquoise top. The perfect looking-good-but-not-trying-too-hard outfit. I used about a bucket
of concealer and a little bit of blush to put some color in my cheeks. Even my hair cooperated, and I went to school confident that I looked my best.

I ran into Vanessa outside before first bell. My prediction was correct. Rumors abounded.

“I just heard,” she said. “I can't believe it.” She dabbed at her eyes.

“Are you crying?”

“It's just so sad,” she said. “You and Connor were the perfect couple. I would just
die
if Chase ever cheated on me.”

I raised an eyebrow, but she looked away. I wasn't going to be the one to tell her something she probably, deep down, already knew.

“I'll be okay. Thanks for your concern.”

“But who are we going to double with now? I told Chase that there was no way I would associate with that, that
home wrecker
.”

The fact that Connor and I weren't married apparently escaped Vanessa's notice, but I was touched that she was on my side.

“Thanks, Vanessa,” I replied. “Maybe we can do something next weekend without any guys?”

“Uh, sure,” she said, but she didn't seem sure at all. There was a moment of gloomy silence and then she brightened. “Look at this,” she crowed. She unzipped her hoodie and pointed to her chest. I stared
at her, not getting it. Was she showing off a recent boob job? A new tattoo? No, it was her T-shirt she was proudly displaying.

“Don't you love it?” she asked.

It read T
EAM
D
ONNELLY
in big, bold letters.

“All the girls are wearing them. You know, to show support after the terrible way Connor dumped you to go out with Angie Vogel.”

I suppressed a groan. Vanessa meant well, but the T-shirts would just call more attention to the breakup.

“Thanks, Vanessa,” I managed to reply, “but I'm fine.”

She looked at me sympathetically but didn't outright call me a liar, which I supposed was something.

Still, I wasn't surprised when I saw her at lunch with her hoodie firmly zipped over her T-shirt, which made sense given that she was sitting with Chase, Connor, and Angie.

I think I would have been able to ignore it if Angie and Connor had kept their relationship low profile, but for the rest of the week they seemed to be determined to rub it in my face. They even did an interview for the school paper, for God's sake. And because Colin Jensen, the editor, was a total perv, there was a huge photo of Connor and Angie. Angie, of course, looked totally amazing.

Suddenly, Angie Vogel was Mother Teresa and a
Playboy
centerfold all rolled up in one glamorous package.

I couldn't compete. Did I even want to? I mean, I recycled regularly and there was that whole beach cleanup thing I organized last year on Earth Day, but Angie was organizing a food drive, a book drive, and a sit-in.

I admitted my feelings to Monet. “Angie makes me feel like a total dilettante. There's nothing I can do to knock her off her perch.”

“She has one thing you don't,” Monet admitted.

I sighed. “I know. That perfect blonde hair.”

“No, silly. A boyfriend. Angie has a boyfriend and you don't. That's all.”

Monet was kind enough not to add that Angie had
my
boyfriend.

“You're right,” I said. “Couples rule this place. I just need a boyfriend to get back on top. Someone who makes Connor look like yesterday's news. Besides, a boyfriend would be nice. I'm getting a little sick of fending off Jason Brady.”

It was true. For some reason, my stock had lowered and cretins like Jason thought they actually had a chance with me.

There had been a time when I had plenty of options, even after I had started dating Connor exclusively.
But I had never even looked at anyone else. Something I was bitterly regretting, since he hadn't granted me the same courtesy.

That was no excuse for Dev's face popping into my mind. He was the only guy whose number I had, and that was just to schedule extra rehearsals.

I was really off my game if the only guy's number programmed into my cell was my best friend's brother. How pathetic was that? Turned out it was the tip of the humiliation iceberg.

After school, Monet and I saw Hannah Johnson wearing a T
EAM
V
OGEL
T-shirt. I looked at Monet.

“She always hated you,” she explained.

“What did I ever do to her?”

“Are you serious?” Monet said. “Don't you remember seventh grade? She had that mad crush on Damon and he asked you to the dance instead of her.”

“That's not my fault,” I said. “And it's not like I went with him.”

I was happy to notice that there was only a sprinkling of T
EAM
V
OGEL
tees, compared to a solid showing of T
EAM
D
ONNELLY
. Still, Angie needed to be put in her place and I had the perfect idea how.

“Monet, do me a favor,” I said. It wasn't a question.

“What are you up to, Soph?”

“Never mind. Just wait and see.”

L
ater that week, Monet and I were headed for Wicked Jack's when Dev caught up to us.

“Can I bum a ride?” he asked. “My car's still in the shop.”

“Sure,” she said easily.

They got along well for siblings, especially since they were only a year apart. I envied their relationship, even if I didn't understand how anyone could put up with Dev.

When we got to Monet's car, Dev sat in the back without protest. Monet pretty much just ignored him, but I was self-conscious with him in the car. I certainly didn't want to talk about my breakup in front of him.

Wicked Jack's was packed, but we managed to find a table. A couple of sophomore girls giggled and whispered when I walked by.

“Just ignore them,” Monet advised.

I tried, but I felt like everyone was staring and talking about me. We'd already ordered when Connor entered the restaurant with Angie on his arm.

They took a booth opposite our table and immediately had their hands all over each other.

Now I knew I wasn't imagining the whispers and looks.

“Is he
trying
to publicly humiliate me?” I said through clenched teeth.

Dev looked up from the huge burger he'd ordered. “Doubtful,” he said. “I don't think he even noticed you're here.”

I glared at him.

“Not helping, Dev,” Monet said.

“I can't believe him,” I said. I stabbed a leaf of lettuce from my salad, imagining it was Connor's cold heart.

“Just ignore him,” Monet advised.

“But he's rubbing my nose in it,” I responded. My face was red, which was more fodder for the gossips.

“Do you want to leave?” Monet asked.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to make a scene.”

Dev said, “I have a better idea. I'm going to get a shake.”

“Hey, what about me?” Monet said.

Dev ruffled her hair as he stood up. “Already got you covered. Peanut butter–banana, right?”

Monet grinned. “You know it. Sophie?”

I tore my gaze from my ex. Wicked Jack's did have great shakes. “I'll have a strawberry cheesecake,” I said. I reached for my wallet, but Dev waved me away. “I've got it.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks.”

Dev said brusquely, “I was just sick of hearing you cry over that loser.”

I should have known better than to think that Dev was actually trying to be nice.

I noticed that several girls watched him as he made his way to the counter. He was cute, I thought. Not as cute as Connor, but cute. Too bad he was such a jerk.

Dev made his way back to us, loaded down with our shakes, but it seemed as though every girl in the place stopped him to say hi.

“At this rate, everything will be melted by the time he gets back to the table,” I muttered.

“I don't get it, either,” Monet said, “but for some reason, girls find him attractive.”

As if Dev heard us, he broke off the conversation and came back to the table. “Here you go,” he said.

I took a sip. It was delicious. I almost forgot about Connor and Angie's obvious public display of affection. At least, until he stopped by our table.

“Hi, Sophie,” Connor said. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“It
is
my favorite restaurant,” I said.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.”

Those few words set my temper flaring. Before I could think about it, I picked up my shake and threw it in his face.

So much for not making a scene.

Connor didn't even yell at me. He stood there and shook his head, then turned on his heels and left.

Dev muttered, “That was a waste of a good shake.” But he seemed oddly pleased. Everyone else was staring daggers at me. There was an icy silence in the restaurant and I realized I'd just made a huge mistake.

On the way back to school, no one spoke.

“He deserved it,” I finally said. But I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince. Nobody deserved that. My stupid temper had gotten the best of me again.

Dev snorted, but didn't say anything.

“What's your problem?” I said.

“My problem?
I
don't have any problems.”

“Meaning that I do?”

“You said it, not me.”

Dev didn't know how lucky he was that there wasn't another shake handy.

“Stop behaving like a spoiled brat,” Dev said.

“What do you know about it?” I said scornfully. “You've never even had a serious girlfriend, and you're giving me relationship advice?”

“It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's going on, Sophie,” he replied. “You don't even
like
Connor anymore. You're just pissed off that he beat you to the breakup.”

I fought the tears that formed. “Yeah, that's it. I mean, just because we dated since we were freshmen? I certainly couldn't have had any feelings for Connor, right? Because according to you, I don't have any feelings. Well, guess what? I do have feelings, Dev. And they can get hurt just like anyone else's.”

That was pretty much a conversation stopper. There was silence the rest of the way back to school. As soon as Monet parked the car, I jumped out and stomped away. Even class was better than spending one more minute with Dev Lucero.

The fallout hit immediately, of course. I tried to ignore the stares and whispers, which had only escalated since the scene at Wicked Jack's.

I was glad to have Monet at my side.

“So much for my theory that people would have better things to talk about,” I commented while keeping a smile pasted on my face.

“You threw a shake at Connor in front of half the school. Did you really think that people wouldn't talk?”

“Admittedly, I wasn't thinking clearly,” I said through gritted teeth. “Your brother has already told me what an idiot I am. But now it's time for damage control.”

“Major damage control,” Monet observed. She gestured toward a random freshman, who was wearing a T
EAM
V
OGEL
shirt. I glared at him, and Monet nudged me. I turned my glare into the sweetest smile I could muster.

The freshman paled and scurried down the hall. I surveyed the packed hallway. There were considerably more kids wearing T
EAM
V
OGEL
shirts today, but I tried not to make too much of it.

It was also the day that the weekly hotness poll came out. It went out as an anonymous text message. I hadn't really paid much attention to the poll in the past, but I didn't have to—I was always in the top three.

But that was when I was with Connor. I was curious to see where I stood as a single girl. And if I was completely honest with myself, I wanted to check out my competition.

Usually, it took months to get into the top ten, and some perfectly gorgeous girls at school never even broke the top twenty. But Angie was with Connor now, and I had a feeling that she'd be there, probably on the bottom rung, but she'd make a showing.

For some reason, I didn't get the text. Monet was no help. She had blocked it from her phone when we were freshmen.

Finally, I got my hands on it right before lunch on Monday. I conned a sophomore guy out of his phone by batting my eyelashes and looking woeful. He didn't look like he got many calls, anyway.

I was sitting outside with Monet at our usual lunch table when Dev came up. I quickly closed the phone.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Dev said.

I glanced at Monet and raised my eyebrows. She just shrugged and bit into her ham sandwich, so I got up and followed Dev a few feet away from the table, which I hoped was out of earshot. We were attracting attention, though. I saw Olivia glance our way and whisper something to Hannah. My biggest fans were keeping an eye on me.

I couldn't help but notice that Dev was looking particularly good. I wasn't the only one who had noticed. A couple of senior girls were checking him out and not even bothering to hide it.

“Sophie, I just wanted to say I was sorry. I was out of line yesterday. Your relationship with Connor isn't any of my business.”

“Yes, you were out of line,” I said, “but you didn't say anything that wasn't true. It was stupid of me
to make a scene like that.” I gave a nod toward the courtyard, where much of the school was pretending they weren't watching our every move. “You're going to ruin your reputation if you're seen with me much longer.”

I was trying to pass it off as a joke, but it came off a little wobbly. Dev grabbed me and gave me a hug. “Friends, then?”

“God knows I can use all the friends I can get,” I replied. “Friends it is.”

He grinned. “Cool. I'll catch you at rehearsal, then.” He strode off and I wasn't the only one admiring the view.

I grinned, too. Suddenly, I felt a lot better about my situation. If Dev, who was far from my biggest fan, could excuse my behavior, then I was sure that the whole thing would soon blow over and I'd be back on top.

“What was that all about?” Monet said. She sounded perturbed.

“What
what
?” I said.

“That
hug
,” she said, “with my brother.”

“We were just making up after our fight.”

She stared at me.

“Monet, it was a brotherly hug. Like he hugs you. No biggie.”

I nudged her, but she just kept staring.

“You can't possibly think that there's something
between me and Dev,” I said. “I know he's cute, but he's not my type.”

She gave me a weak smile. “Sorry, Sophie. I saw the two of you together and…”

“Jumped to conclusions,” I said, with a grin.

I was relieved to have everything ironed out with Dev. He was my costar, after all, and we needed to maintain a civilized working relationship.

“Hi, Sophie, looking good.” It was Tyler Berner, a senior guy who had a reputation for serial dating.

“Hi, Tyler.” I smiled at him but didn't encourage him to linger.

“Are you thinking about him as a candidate for a rebound guy or something?”

I gave Monet a sharp look, then regained my equilibrium.

“He's a possibility,” I said. “He has commitment issues. That's perfect for a rebound guy.” I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I missed Connor. We'd spent almost every weekend together.

“According to Olivia, that's not all he has,” she said wryly. “And he's been spreading it around the senior class.”

“Ick,” I said. I crossed Tyler off my mental list.

A tall, chubby guy from my history class approached. I searched my mind for his name.

“Hey, Sophie, can I borrow your notes from history? I missed class yesterday.”

“Sure, Will. They're in my locker. I'll photocopy them and give them to you in class.”

We waited until he left, then Monet said, “What about him? He's kind of cute.”

I shook my head. “Total burnout. He missed class because he spends all of his time smoking weed behind the gym. Nice guy, though.”

“You have options, at least,” Monet said. She didn't seem to notice that none of the really gorgeous guys had approached me. But I did.

Monet and I finished our lunch without any more interruptions. My black mood lifted. There was a good chance, after all, that the scene with Connor would blow over.

Then I remembered the hotness poll and turned to the sophomore's phone. New text.

When I saw the list, my stomach took an express elevator to my feet. I stared at Monet, stricken.

“What's wrong?” she asked. “Connor post comments about your sex life?”

“No,” I said. “And gross, you know Connor and I didn't…Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, I'm not in the top ten this week. Heck, I'm barely in the top twenty.”

Monet was silent for a minute. “It's okay,” she finally said. “Nobody pays attention to those things. You'll be back on top before you know it.”

“Angie Vogel is number
three,
” I said, horror-stricken. The girl who had stolen my boyfriend from under my nose was now going after something far, far more important. I squared my shoulders. She was going after my social standing. And that meant war.

Little Ms. Vogel had no idea what she was in for, because I played to win. And I didn't play fair.