The Wild One (2 page)

“You're lucky you're cute, or you'd end up in the repulsivo hall of fame in a heartbeat,” Maria exclaimed as Michael shoveled another load of cheese food into his mouth.

“You really think I'm cute?” Michael asked. He batted his eyelashes at Maria, then he opened his mouth wide, showing the orange gunk coating his tongue.

“I'd definitely ask you out,” Alex commented, holding the bag out to Maria.

Maria wrinkled her nose. “I don't eat neon orange food. It just isn't right.”

Michael grinned at Alex, who grinned at Maria. And then they pounced on her. Maria tried to squirm away, but Michael grabbed one of her arms and Alex grabbed the other. They both tried to stuff junk food into her mouth. Maria managed to squeal while keeping her teeth tightly locked together, which Liz found pretty impressive.

“Help us out here,” Alex called to Max.

Max reached over and tickled the stretch of bare stomach that had become exposed when Maria's sweater rode up. She started to giggle, and Alex and Michael took the opportunity to cram her mouth full.

“We should pay attention,” Liz said. It came out a little sharper than she meant it to. “The game's about to start.”

They had a few more minutes before kickoff. But Liz wanted Max's hands off Maria—right now. She knew she had nothing to be jealous of. Max and Maria were just buddies. But it still hurt to see Max touching her best friend when he never even touched Liz anymore.

They had only kissed three times before Max announced his
just friends
law. But Liz could still remember exactly how it felt when his lips touched hers. She couldn't stand the thought of going through the rest of her life without another kiss from Max. Without feeling his fingers in her hair or his body—

Stop torturing yourself, she thought. She focused on the football field.

The cheerleaders lined up in front of the bleachers. Max's sister, Isabel, grabbed a bullhorn. “Give it up for the UFO High Aliens! Rick Montes, Doug Highsinger, Tim Watanabe—” Each guy trotted onto the field when Isabel shouted his name. “John Andrews, Richard Jamison, Nikolas Branson—”

“Is that new guy Nikolas in any of your classes?” Liz asked Maria.

“Spanish. He's kind of quiet,” Maria answered.

“He's pretty hot,” Liz said loudly. She wanted to make sure Max heard her. Maybe if he thought she was interested in another guy, he would—

Oh, man, I am so pathetic, Liz realized. Next she would probably start reading Susie Scotto's “Out of This World Love” advice column in the
UFO Observer
.

“
Pretty
hot?” Maria repeated. “He should come with a warning label!”

Liz took another look at Nikolas. He had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders and light brown eyes. His high cheekbones and his nose, which had obviously been broken a few times, gave his face a severe look. At least until you noticed his lips, which were full and sensual.

Yeah, he was hot. But Liz observed this in sort of a scientific, anthropological way. Categorizing his cuteness like she was in biology lab or something.

Maria would totally get on my case if she knew what was going through my head right now, Liz thought. Maria always said that being all scientific about things sucked the magic out of the world. But that's just how Liz's mind worked.

“That other mascot better watch out. Izzy is getting mad,” Michael commented.

Liz glanced down at the field. Rocky Rocket, Guffman High's mascot, had its arms wrapped around Isabel's waist. Isabel went on cheering, but Michael was right. She looked
mucho
annoyed.

Suddenly Rocky grabbed the bullhorn out of Isabel's hand and did a little victory dance, leaping into the air.

Maria chuckled. “Ooh, Isabel isn't going to like being teased by a dork in a giant fuzzy outfit.”

“She'll get back at him,” Michael replied confidently. “Dorks shouldn't mess with Iz. Watch.”

Sure enough, Isabel stopped cheering and turned to the mascot with a menacing expression on her face. She held out her hand for the bullhorn.

Rocky shook his big pointed head. Isabel took another step toward him—and stopped. Rocky had jumped high into the air, out of her reach.

The crowd gave a collective gasp as he flipped over in midair, flew about ten feet backward, and landed head down in the trash can full of ice for the football players.

“Whoa, did you see that?” a girl behind Liz exclaimed. “He jumped, like, fifteen feet in the air!”

Rocky struggled out of the trash can and flounced back over to the other side of the field. Liz noticed Isabel smirking at the mascot as he left.

“The weight-to-volume ratio should never have allowed that kind of lift,” Liz said thoughtfully.

Maria, Michael, and Alex gave her those blank looks they got whenever she said something sort of scientific.

“Could you say that in English, Mr. Spock?” Maria teased.

“Liz is saying that according to the laws of physics, a guy in a big, heavy mascot costume should never have been able to jump so high in the air,” Max explained.

Michael frowned at him. “Not without
help
, you mean.”

“Exactly,” Max said.

Isabel pulled the scrunchie out of her ponytail and shook her blond hair free. She liked the way it looked down, all loose around her shoulders. Guys seemed to like it that way, too. In fact, guys seemed to like pretty much everything about Isabel. A satisfied little smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I can't believe the flip that Guffman mascot did.” Stacey Scheinin gave a little hop—and landed on the makeup bag Isabel had just placed on the floor in front of her locker. Isabel gave Stacey a death look, but Stacey didn't seem to notice. She
just kept chattering—as usual. Stacey loved to hear herself talk.

“It was like, whee!” Stacey exclaimed. “I think we should all take gymnastics lessons so we can get some moves like that into our routines. What do you say, girls?”

There was a chorus of yeahs and greats, and some general squeals of approval from the Stacey wannabes. Isabel rolled her eyes. The cheerleading squad was divided into two groups—girls who hated Stacey and girls who were trying to
become
Stacey.

Isabel was definitely in the first group. Why would she possibly want to be like Stacey? The girl was always smiling, or giggling, or squealing, or doing all three at once. But underneath all that syrupy, sugary, humongous-dentist-bill-inducing sweetie-pieness, she had the killer instincts of a cobra.

“Especially you, Isabel,” Stacey added. “Maybe if you had some gymnastics training, you wouldn't have such a hard time with the Alien Invasion routine.”

Isabel ignored her. Stacey took her job as head cheerleader
way
too seriously. Obviously it was going to be the high point of her whole pathetic little life. And besides, Isabel's jumps were perfect.

“Well, Nikolas Branson seemed to think Isabel looked pretty good during Alien Invasion,” Tish Okabe commented. “He couldn't stop staring at her.”

Oooh. Good one, Tish, Isabel thought. Stacey had already made it very clear that
she
wanted new-boy Nikolas.

Stacey shot Tish an evil look. Tish grinned back.

Isabel chuckled. Her best friend was the kind of person who could find something to like in pretty much anyone. Except Stacey.

“I wouldn't mind taking some gymnastics lessons from Nikolas,” Lucinda Baker called from her locker.

Isabel thought Lucinda was basically cool. She definitely wasn't trying to be Stacey. But she was of those girls who just tried a little too hard to be out there—a ripped-black-tights-and-green-lipstick type. Isabel had heard the only reason Lucinda went out for the cheerleading squad was because her mom paid her a thousand bucks.

“Like that would ever happen. Nikolas isn't desperate enough to hang out with you, Loose-inda,” one of Stacey's girls said.

Isabel pulled on her jeans. She wanted to get out of there. The estrogen level in the locker room was way too high. There was something about spending too long in an all-girl zone that got on her nerves.

“Let's start a pool on who's going to snag Nikolas!” someone called from the next row of lockers. Isabel wasn't sure who. One of the Stacey-ettes. They all tried to talk in her high little voice, so they ended up sounding a lot alike.

“We don't need a pool for that. Nikolas will go to the hottest girl in school, which would be
moi
,” Stacey announced.

Tish gave Isabel a why-are-you-letting-her-get-away-with-that look. But Isabel wasn't in the mood for a verbal catfight with Stacey.

“If you're so hot, why does every guy in school want to go out with Isabel?” Tish asked Stacey.

“Oh, right—they all want Izzy. Then why was she dancing with Alex Manes at the homecoming dance?” Stacey shot back.

Ouch
. It's true Alex wasn't exactly part of the royal court, or whatever you wanted to call it, of Olsen High. And usually the most popular girls—which definitely included Isabel—hung out with the most popular guys, period.

“He's just one of my love slaves. I have to give them a break occasionally or they get despondent, forget to eat, and waste away to nothing,” Isabel said, keeping her tone casual.

The only reason Isabel had allowed herself to be seen with Alex that night was because he had been part of a plan to keep Sheriff Valenti from discovering the truth about her, Max, and Michael. It's not as if Isabel could have refused to dance with a guy who was helping save her life.

Well, if she was totally honest with herself, Isabel had to admit that wasn't the only reason she'd agreed to dance with Alex. There was just something weirdly irresistible about him. He had this wacked sense of humor. He was smart. And when he touched her, well, the boy
did
know what to do with his hands.

Isabel checked her makeup in the mirror inside her locker door and added a fresh coat of cinaberry lipstick. Then she grabbed her bag and headed toward the exit leading to the gym.

“I'll tell Nikolas you've got a little crush on him,”
she called to Stacey. “Maybe I can convince him to give you a break.”

Isabel swept out the door before Stacey had a chance to answer. She could just imagine Stacey's cute little face turning red with anger.

“Isabel!” Max called.

Isabel turned and saw her brother waiting for her. He did not look happy. Neither did Liz, Maria, or Michael. Even Alex, who usually couldn't stop grinning like a fool when he saw her, looked sort of grim.

Something must have happened. Something big. Something bad. Did Valenti figure out the truth about them? Did he know who they were? Isabel walked rapidly over to her friends, her shoes echoing in the empty gym.

“What's wrong?” she asked in a low, urgent tone.

Max snorted. “What's wrong?” he repeated, mocking her. “You know exactly what's wrong.”

He didn't sound scared or worried. So there wasn't any big emergency. He was just pissed off. At her. What was his problem? She hadn't done anything. Well, okay, she stuck him with doing the dishes last night. Big whoop.

“Not a very bright move, Iz,” Michael said.

He sounded as disapproving as Max. What was going on? Had everyone just forgotten to tell her it was National Anti-Isabel Day?

“You know Valenti is still looking for aliens in Roswell,” Liz added. “You know how dangerous he is.”

“We barely got rid of him the last time,” Maria chimed in.

Valenti. Wait.
Did
this have something to do with the sheriff?

“Okay, somebody better start explaining right now,” Isabel declared. “You can't just toss out the name Valenti and not—”

“Oh, come on,” Michael interrupted. “Don't try to act all innocent. You used your powers to flip the Guffman mascot into the trash. Did you think we wouldn't notice?”

Isabel felt her stomach tighten. Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt, guys, she thought. Thanks for having a little faith in me.

“Well, I guess I should tell you now that I also used my powers to put invisible shields over all the toilet seats, and I made Mr. Tollifson's boxers turn into silk panties,” Isabel shot back. “What am I, like, nine years old?”

Max gave her his don't-try-to-get-anything-by-big-brother look. “Look, Iz, I
felt
power being used—I felt the drain on my energy, and so did Michael. And I know neither of us flipped the stupid mascot.”

“Well,
I
didn't feel anything. You're getting all flipped out over nothing.” She gave a tight little smile. “
Flipped
out. Get it?” She started to push her way between Maria and Michael. She wasn't going to stand here and let them all yell at her for no reason.

Michael grabbed her by the elbow. “You can't just ignore this.”

Isabel jerked her arm away. She shot a glance over at Alex. He still hadn't opened his mouth to defend her. If you couldn't count on a guy who was all
gooey over you to back you up … She glared at him.

“Don't you have something to say?” she challenged.

“I can hardly talk. I'm still traumatized by the image of Mr. Tollifson in silk panties,” Alex said. “But if you say you didn't do it, that's good enough for me.”

“Me too,” Maria added quickly.

“You guys don't know the stuff she's pulled,” Max said. “Remember last year when Ms. Shaffer's car ended up on the roof of the gym?”

“Yeah!” Alex cried. “That was great!”

“That was Isabel,” Max said, frowning. “Flipping the mascot is exactly her style.”

Max remembered every stupid thing Isabel had done in her whole life. Sometimes she thought he had a computer file on her or something. In another second he was going to be bringing up the time she bit Laura Burns in the fourth grade.