The Lipstick Laws (13 page)

"No," she says sincerely. "Mel's nice ... I always liked her."

"Aren't you breaking a bunch of Lipstick Laws by talking about this with me?"

"Well"—she pauses—"kinda. Brit would have a fit if she knew, but she doesn't have to know."

I immediately grow suspicious.

She continues, "You know, I don't agree with everything Britney does."

"Like?" I inquire.

She looks down. "Well, like ... take you, for instance. The whole tampon thing ... that was a bit much."

"You think?" I huff sarcastically.

"I didn't have anything to do with that," she says adamantly, shaking her head. "And another thing, I know you didn't call the cops on Troy Hoffman."

Feeling vindicated, I say, "How'd you figure that out?"

"I talked to Brandon about it. Didn't you wonder why that rumor was squashed? I told people it wasn't you."

"You did?" I say skeptically, studying her dark eyes for signs of lying.

"Of course I did. Well, I'll let you get to class," she says casually before walking away.

***

"Shut up!" Melanie blurts, practically choking on her gum. "You have to be kidding!"

"No, I'm not," I say. "And she told me to tell you hi."

"That's so random, I don't even know how to react to it."

"That's what I thought," I agree.

"I mean, out of all of them she was always the nicest. But I still wouldn't trust her."

"No, I definitely don't," I say, buckling my seat belt. "She hasn't talked to me for weeks. I don't know what made her talk to me today. It's really weird!"

Mel looks in the rearview before backing up. "Maybe Brat-ney's driving her crazy."

"That's the only driving she's good at," I say.

As Mel pulls out of the school parking lot, I grind my teeth, thinking of all the things Britney has done to me over the past month. The last incident was the straw that broke the camel's back. It took me a year to get those jeans worn in perfectly. They were like my skin, they were so comfortable.

Melanie glances over at me.

"You're still thinking about the jeans, aren't you?" she says.

"Yes!" I churn with irritation.

I knew that Britney was up to something when she excused herself for a long bathroom break during gym class earlier this week. Call it Lipstick Lawbreaker intuition, but I just knew she was up to no good. I still don't know how she broke in to my new locker, but that doesn't matter at this point. It's what she did once she broke in that I'm still fuming about.

"Did you try patching it?"

"No, Mel. They're ruined. You saw them! The hole is way too big ... and where am I going to find a crotch patch?"

Mel tries to lighten my mood. "That's true. There aren't nearly enough crotch patch stores nowadays."

I manage to laugh, though I'm still flaring inside.

Mel parks at the drugstore. Snowflakes swarm us. We slip on the snow slush as we make our way through the parking lot. Grabbing on to each other for warmth, we walk into the store and dash for the makeup aisle. Once we find what we stopped for, Mel and I head to the checkout. She picks out a juicy gossip magazine at the front counter. Her hazel eyes shimmer with mischief as she flips through it.

"Hollywood marriages never work out." She shakes her head grimly.

I look at her and laugh. Melanie is as addicted to gossip columns as I am to bosom sculpting. She's even said that she hopes to be a Hollywood marriage therapist someday. Talk about mixing work with pleasure. It's nice to know that I have a friend as obsessively neurotic as myself.

"What?" she says, gaping at me. "I just can't resist. It's my guilty pleasure, this and reality TV."

She promptly adds it to the register.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Mel, Ashley, Rachel, and I are congregated on my bed. After being kicked out of the public library twice for laughing too hard and "disturbing library patrons," we moved our Lipstick Lawbreaker meetings to my house.

"So," Ashley says, "where is it?"

"Here!" I pull out our lipstick purchase from the plastic bag.

Ashley leans in to get a better look. "Oh—wow! It's really dark!"

"Midnight black," Melanie announces. "Can't get much darker than that."

"Perfect shade for you, Apes. Mr. Hottie-Body Brentwood won't be able to resist asking you to the spring formal if you've got this on," Rachel teases, inspecting the goth color.

His name sends my mind somewhere else. Somewhere romantic. Somewhere tropical. A place where he can show off his delicious body on a beach—in a swimsuit or, preferably, his birthday suit. I can't even imagine not seeing him over Christmas break. After the whole Brandon Smith hoo-ha, it took me a few weeks to get Matt to talk to me. Unfortunately for me, as soon as we were on good terms again, he and his family left for a blistery Colorado vacation. If only I could have hidden in his suitcase ... just to sneak a glance at him snowboarding. Yummy von yumster...

Melanie snaps her fingers in my face. "That name puts you in a trance every time. Snap outta it!"

I shrug. "Sorry, can't help it. He's a love god."

"Yeah, yeah ... we know." Rachel tucks her shoulder-length hair behind her ears. "So, do you have the Oath?"

"Of course!" I say, skipping to my dresser.

The girls watch intently as I snatch the piece of paper and dangle it with a smile.

"Britney isn't gonna know what hit 'er," I say, adding a dramatically evil laugh. "Mmwwahh-ha-ha-ha."

I wiggle between them and jump up on my bed. My feet sink slightly into the mattress. Standing as tall as I can, I clear my throat and read:

"
Lipstick Lawbreaker Law:
Destroy Britney Taylor!"

We put our right hands up simultaneously and repeat our new Lipstick Lawbreaker Oath:

"We, the Lipstick Lawbreakers, pledge our commitment to destroy Britney Taylor. We promise to follow our Lipstick Lawbreaker Law, knowing that her misery is dependent on our ability to fulfill it."

I bounce down to sit in the middle of the girls. I cross my legs and say, "Pass the lipstick, please."

One by one, we each smear the black lipstick on our lips and kiss our new Lipstick Lawbreaker Oath under its one incredibly important law.

"I can't believe we're doing this!" Melanie says.

"It's about time," I respond.

***

Later that night, as I'm washing off the last bit of black lipstick,my brother approaches me, leaning his tall, lanky body on the wall outside the bathroom door.

I shoot him a don't-mess-with-me look from the bathroom mirror.

He stares back at me seriously.

"What, Aaden?" I accidentally spit soap bubbles onto my shirt.

"We haven't talked about this yet, but I know what she did to you." He walks closer to me. "What Britney did to you."

My heart stops. I rinse and wipe my face off. "How do you know?"

"Um ... it's pretty common knowledge," he responds.

"Perfect!" I say bluntly, passing him to escape to my bedroom.

"Wait, Apers." He grabs my shoulder. I haven't heard him call me that since we were little. I don't turn around, but I'm listening. "I just want to let you know that after what she did to you, I don't think she's hot anymore. She's actually really ugly ... really, really ugly!"

I'm smiling inside. Aaden has always thought Britney's one of the hottest girls in high school. He was more than baffled when his kid sister started hanging out with her. I caught him smelling her jacket in the hallway one time when she came to our house. It was totally creepy in a Delvin McGerk stalkerific way. So, naturally, I'm shocked by his anti-Britney sentiments.

"She sucks," he adds unwaveringly.

"Thanks, Aaden," I say, spinning around to give him a big hug ... which turns out to be a bit mechanical and awkward.

He blushes. "Anyway, Melanie Elmer is hands down hotter than Britney Taylor."

"You got that right!" I say.

Mel and Brit look like they could be sisters. Like Cinderella and her evil stepsister. Mel being Cinderella, of course. And in this case, I'm hoping the evil stepsister gets what's coming to her.

"Good afternoon, Bean!" My father greets me from his mahogany desk as I come down the garland-decorated stairway. That's been his nickname for me since I was born. Supposedly I was a small, round, overly gassy baby.

"Morning, Dad," I respond, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

"It's not morning anymore, my darlin'." He laughs. "Ah, to be a teenager again ... when noon is morning and midnight is going to bed early."

I look at the clock in his study and see that it's twelve-thirty in the afternoon already. Melanie and I were on the phone until three a.m. last night. We came up with a fantastic plan to speed up the destruction of Britney Taylor. I can't wait to share it with Haley.

"Where's Mom?"

My dad points to the kitchen. "Attempting to make cookies."

Oh, boy—this could be a disaster. I follow the scent of burnt cookies into the kitchen and immediately see an explosion of baking supplies all over the counters, and a bunch of half-charred cookies cooling on the island. My mom definitely tries, but she's no domestic goddess.

"Do you need help baking, Mom?" I say, assessing the kitchen nightmare.

She dismisses my offer with a quick wave of her oven mitt. "No, thanks. I just have one more batch to bake."

Knowing raw sugar-cookie dough always tastes better than the overcooked end product, I snag a bite and stop to admire the holiday card photos plastered like wallpaper on our fridge. I point to the middle picture. "Who's this hottie?"

My mom looks surprised. "April, that's Delvin McGerk. Don't you recognize him?"

I gag on the dough and zone in closer to the picture. "Can't be!"

"Sure is; Patty McGerk sent that to me earlier this week. Handsome, isn't he?"

Delvin McGerk, handsome? That's the last word I'd use to describe him. A good-looking imposter must have fooled the camera. There's definitely some sort of trickery going on. That's the only explanation.

"He must've got contacts," I say.

My mom admires the flattering picture over my shoulder. "Yes, he got his braces off, too."

"And a full face overhaul," I mutter under my breath. "Be nice, April! Delvin's a sweet boy." "Right." I roll my eyes and grab a granola bar before heading back upstairs.

***

I'm clutching the Lipstick Lawbreaker Oath tightly as I dial Haley's number. She's going to be so proud.

"April!"

"Your caller ID is fixed," I reply.

"Yep, thank goodness! Now I can screen Jordan's calls," she says.

The last time I talked to her, I was surprised to hear that she broke things off with her boyfriend. Supposedly, he went a little psycho over a breakfast Eggo a few days ago. Long story ... but the moral of it is that you know it's over when maple syrup makes your boyfriend crazy.

"We signed the Oath!" I say.

"You did? I'm so excited! Did you guys think up any ideas yet?"

I lie on my bed, twisting the drawstring from my hoodie around my fingers. "Mel and I thought of an awesome idea last night."

"Tell me!"

"Well ... what does Britney want more than anything?" I hint.

"Ummm ... I dunno ... a herd of brainless followers?" Haley says.

"Well ... yeah. But what else?"

"Hmmm ... every guy in the universe to worship her?"

"That's true too," I say, figuring this guessing game could go on all day if I don't just come out and tell her. "But she's in love with Troy Hoffman, remember?"

"You're right!"

"And Jamie, Troy's girlfriend, hates her," I add.

"Right," she agrees.

"And she's dating Kyle Smith right now..."

"Ummm ... okay," Haley says.

I don't think she gets where I'm going with this.

"Don't you see, Lee? We're gonna set her up to think Troy's into her! If we're successful, we'll destroy her relationship with Kyle, prompt a Jamie/Britney brawl, and demote her popularity rank in the school!"

"Brilliant!" she says. "Don't say
if.
You will be successful! Think good thoughts!" She pauses for a second. "But how are you gonna make her believe Troy likes her without her suspecting you guys?"

"We already figured that all out," I explain. "Melanie knows of an empty locker down the hall from Troy's locker. It's going to become their secret love note mailbox. We'll slip the first note from fake Troy into Britney's actual locker. It'll tell her to leave her reply letters in the empty locker. She'll never know that we're behind it all."

"But, won't she wonder why Troy doesn't just use his own locker to get her love letters?"

"We have that covered, too," I boast. "He doesn't want Jamie to find out, of course. Jamie's constantly hanging out at his locker. That's why this secret letter affair has to take place somewhere else."

"Perfect!" Haley says. "So, how are you going to end everything?"

"This is the best part." I prepare her for the genius. "We plan on making copies of all of Brit's letters. You know she's going to slam Jamie in them, and she'll probably admit that her feelings for Kyle aren't anything compared to her feelings for Troy. Once we have enough criminal evidence, we'll slip her letters to Jamie and Kyle—which should make for the showdown of the century!"

"Oh my gosh, April! That's amazing! I hope it works!"

"I'm confident it'll work, Lee. Very confident!"

***

Every time I pass through the kitchen, I find myself staring in disbelief at Delvin's picture. Christmas morning is no exception. He didn't look like that in science class, did he? No way, he couldn't have. Then again, I try not to look at him ever, so I probably wouldn't have noticed even if he did have a miraculous makeover. I shrug and walk into the family room to join the others to exchange gifts.

I sit between my mother, who's bursting with holiday cheer, and Aaden, who'd much rather be sleeping.

I assess the pile of presents as my dad rustles around the tree. He turns around holding two matching, brightly wrapped boxes. My brother and I immediately perk up when my dad hands one to each of us. There's only one present Aaden and I are both hoping for. We look at each other optimistically and tear the wrapping paper to bits.