“I know. That’s why I wanted to join.”
“Then don’t leave quite so soon,” Logan smiled awkwardly, “You’re the only person I know here.”
“Really?” that surprised Val. She’d thought everyone at Palm Lake knew everyone else; either through family connections, like Alex, or through years of going to the same school, like Derrick.
“Really,” Logan admitted, “I was going to meet some new people, but I always get scared at these types of events.”
At least he’s honest, Val thought. “Well let’s meet some new people then.” She grabbed him by the arm and walked up to a group of younger-looking girls. When the girls were less than welcoming, Val left the group, and led the way to a smaller group in the corner.
“Hi guys,” Val greeted, “I’m Val, and this is Logan.”
A couple of them tipped their cups in greeting. “Nice to meet you,” one said. They struck up a halting conversation about the weather, which Val didn’t really participate in; she checked her phone every few seconds, trying to decide whether it would be appropriate to leave the club twenty minutes early.
Val felt a light tap on her upper back; “Hey again,” Jessie said, “I wanted to apologize for how I came off. Derrick explained why you walked off—I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted you to feel at home here.”
Val raised an eyebrow, “And you thought the best way to do that was by nicknaming me Jailbait and spreading the rumor about me and Porter?”
Jessie shrugged sheepishly, “I was trying to be funny. But I’ll admit, it was in poor taste, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok,” Val sighed, “I just don’t get why everyone is like that to me.”
“Like what?” Jessie seemed genuinely confused.
“Doing things like calling me jailbait and making sexual jokes.”
Jessie laughed, “Isn’t the answer obvious? It’s because you just look and act so innocent, which makes it fun to mess with you.”
Val snorted, “I’m not innocent.”
“Uh huh,” Jessie smiled dubiously, “So you’ve slept with—how many guys, exactly?”
“Three,” Val lied.
“And what were their names?”
“Um—I dunno.”
Jessie laughed, “So you’ve only slept with three guys, but you can’t remember any of their names?”
“I—well, ok, maybe I didn’t really sleep with three guys.”
“Awh, that’s so cute.”
“What is?”
“You, trying to pretend you have more experience than you do. If anything, I bet you’re a virgin,” Jessie smirked.
Color filled Val’s cheeks, “Maybe, maybe not. It’s not your business.” She checked her phone to avoid looking at him. Fortunately, whether because he sensed her discomfort or was getting bored of their conversation, Jessie clapped Logan on the back; “Hey buddy,” he said, “Are you a freshman too?”
Logan turned from his conversation with the four students in the corner. “Yeah.”
“Cool, cool. So you’ve met Val, then?”
“Yeah,” Logan smiled at Val, “We’re actually friends.”
“Nice. Are you one of the three guys?” Val shot an angry look Jessie’s way; he noticed and grinned widely.
“No, um—what?”
“Nothing, nothing. So what are you looking for in this club?”
Val couldn’t hold her tongue, “So you’re just gonna have a normal conversation with him? No ridiculously personal questions?”
“Hold on a sec,” Jessie said to Logan; to Val, he said, “Yes. My new friend Logan and I are having a serious discussion about his future with FBLA.”
“Why don’t I get a serious conversation about my future with FBLA?” Val asked.
Jessie let out an exasperated sigh, “Alright, what are you looking to accomplish during your tenure at FBLA, Jailbait?”
“You said you would stop using that nickname!” Val complained.
“Actually, I didn’t. Besides, if you’re gonna insist that I talk to you about mundane topics, I’m gonna call you Jailbait, because heaven knows I’ve had enough boring conversations today.”
“Fine, then I’m going. I have to get ready for soccer practice anyway.”
Jessie rubbed his temples, “Look, it’s just a funny nickname. I don’t mean anything by it. Don’t get so uptight.”
“I really do have to go to soccer practice,” Val replied, “I guess I might come back next week, though.”
“Guess you might?” Jessie laughed, “That’s pretty noncommittal. What if I promised to memorize your real name, and only call you by that? And I won’t make any sexual jokes; I know it’s unprofessional of me, even though I might let one slip every now and then.”
“Honestly, why do you care if I come?”
“Cause I think you could be a good addition to the club. Like I said, Derrick told me a lot about you; you’re the kind of person who would excel at FBLA. And you could probably get other freshmen to join too.”
Val cocked her head confusedly, “Why does that matter?”
“One freshman’s not enough—no offense, Logan. Look around; this club’s mostly juniors and seniors. If we don’t start recruiting better, in a few years FBLA at Palm Lake will be finished. And I have a feeling you could convince people to join.”
“So you want me to be a—like a recruiter?”
Jessie nodded, “Exactly. If you get some more freshmen to join, I’ll set you up with a leadership role.”
“I thought we voted on those.”
“Not every club is run like Student Gov. Here, the President makes suggestions for who he wants for certain positions, and unless someone comes forth with a legitimate reason why the nominee can’t fulfil the duties of the post, it goes to that person.” Jessie shrugged, “It’s not exactly democratic, but it does free up a lot of our time to focus on more important things.”
“Fine,” Val said, “I’ll think about your offer. If you can stop with the joking and Jailbait nickname.”
“Deal. Alright, negotiation over—go to your soccer practice.”
“Thank you,” Val wanted to say goodbye to Derrick before leaving, but he was engaged in a loud conversation with Selin from soccer; Val satisfied herself with a wave, and then left for soccer practice.
Val was worried about what Avery’s retaliation would be for the events with Porter; she waited all practice for the older girl to do or say something, but Avery ignored her just as Porter had during gym. It was surprising; after the confrontation yesterday, Val had expected Avery to do everything she could to make life miserable, but Avery seemed content to act as if she didn’t exist. Maybe having her and Porter ignore me isn’t a bad thing, Val reasoned, At least it makes my life simpler.
But Avery obviously hadn’t forgotten or forgiven Val; “I’m going to destroy you,” she whispered as the team was changing after practice.
“Huh?” Val turned around. Avery didn’t repeat the words or explain herself; she just stood there with the most innocent smile Val had ever seen.
Chapter 18
“I’ve decided not to give you a quiz at the end of this week,” Miss Andrews announced, “Instead, I will add the questions that would have been on it to your first test.”
Val was not the only one who visibly sighed at the news; to her right, Miro poked her in the ribs. “Good luck on that test, though. ‘If I had a purple-based painting and I wanted to make it brighter, then what advice would Vincent Van Gogh have given?’” Both he and Val laughed.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this test is not something to be taken lightly,” Miss Andrews warned, “I’ve had students get F’s and D’s before.”
Val raised her hand; when the teacher nodded in her direction, she took it as permission to speak, “So, if everyone does really bad, will there be a curve?”
Miss Andrews shook her head, “My dear, you do not want me to start curving tests, because if I curve up then I
must also curve down, no? To use your hypothetical, if you all decide you want a curve, and everyone does well, then I would be forced to take points off everyone’s tests to bring the scale back to normal.”
Miro laughed, “But what are the odds of everyone doing well?” he asked loud enough for their teacher to hear.
“That is—hmm, a fair point. Very well, I will give the decision to you. Who wants me to curve the test?” Val, Miro, and the majority of the students raised their hands; Sophia kept hers down, and Val understood why. She probably won’t even need a curve.
“Hmm, it would appear we will have a curve on this test,” Miss Andrews nodded to herself, “A most interesting decision.” She swept to the front of the classroom; Val groaned inwardly, readying herself for another boring lesson. Instead, their teacher announced that they would be working on their first piece for their portfolios—peach-colored folders that they’d made the first day of class but hadn’t touched since—and that the period was to be spent sketching ideas for designs that would later be recreated in ink.
“I think I’m gonna do an arm—nothing else, just a floating arm,” Miro joked.
“Yeah, that would be a great way to get an A. Good luck explaining that,” Val laughed as she imagined Miro explaining such a drawing to their uptight teacher, “I think you’d be lucky if Miss Andrews didn’t throw you out of class.”
“Who, me? No, Miss Andrews loves me; her and I, we go all the way back to freshman year. The first time I failed Drawing.”
Sophia giggled, “How do you fail Drawing?”
“It’s quite easy, actually. If you refuse to follow any of the rules and if, like me, you never learned to color inside the lines. Speaking of which,” Miro looked pointedly at the butterfly Val was attempting to draw, “You definitely need to redraw that wing. It looks like a duck’s bill.”
“No it doesn’t!” Val argued, “Besides, it’s an, uh, impressionistic drawing.” Sophia and Miro laughed.
“Ooh, good one,” Miro smiled, “Mind if I take that? Next time Miss Andrews yells at me for a mistake, just be all like ‘No, no, it’s impressionistic.’”
Val shrugged, “Go for it.”
“He has a point,” Sophia said, “I’d erase the whole thing and just draw it again. Look at its body too—you made the left side a totally different size from the right. It looks like a zombie-moth or something.”
Val stuck her tongue out at her friend, “Maybe I was trying to draw a zombie-moth.”
“Oh, well—good job then.”
“Just kidding, I was trying to draw a butterfly. Here, can you help me?”
“Help you how?” Sophia asked. “You mean draw it for you?”
“No, just—maybe the outline?”
“I don’t think so. Sorry.”
Miss Andrews, who was walking around the class, stopped behind Val; she made a coughing noise, “That is a—hmm, a most interesting piece. You plan on revising it, I hope?”
“Yeah, of course.” Or at least, I definitely am now.
The bespectacled teacher moved on, leaving Val to concentrate on her work; the conversation faltered as Sophia and Miro focused on their drawings as well. The three of them spent the rest of the hour in near silence, which Val found soothing; even though she barely managed to improve her butterfly by the time the passing period bell rang, it was nice to work in relative solitude.
After an all-too-short lunch, Val had English. Miss Donnely assigned every student a role in the upcoming party scene reenactment. “Miss Hunter, you’ll be Juliet. And for Romeo, our own resident literary extraordinaire, Mister Clarke.”
Panic filled Val; “Hang on, can I trade roles with someone?” she asked quickly.
“Why would you possibly want to trade roles?” Miss Donnely asked.
“I just—I don’t want to—“ Val tried to think of a nice way to say I don’t want to kiss Aiden; she finally settled on, “I’m not comfortable kissing someone I don’t know very well.”
Miss Donnely smiled kindly, “Ah, I see. Of course. I didn’t expect you two to kiss—you can come up with some other interaction.”
“Like what?”
“I have no idea, but I’m sure that whatever you choose to do will be—inspired.”
Val snorted, “Uh huh.”
Miss Donnely turned her gaze upon Aiden, “Mister Clarke, do you have any solutions?”
“I say we just kiss, but put our hands in the way. That’s what some actors do,” Aiden suggested.
“Miss Hunter?”
Val shrugged, “I guess that would be fine. But—oh whatever. Fine, let’s do that.”
Miss Donnely, considering the problem solved, continued assigning roles; she filled the period with a description of what the reenactment would be like, much of which seemed to amount to nothing more than wishful thinking. Unless she really thinks we’re all gonna make our own costumes, Val mused.
Mr. Phillips had apparently granted Jenny’s request to move tables at last, because when Val arrived in Chemistry she sat down in her usual seat near Keenan and Mason was sitting in Jenny’s old spot. “Hey, I know you!” he said, “You’re the girl in my Flag Football class, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, I didn’t even know you were in this class,” something about the way he said it made Val doubt the veracity of his statement.
“I’ve been here since the beginning of the semester,” Val replied, “I was the girl who freaked when I got the soap on my arm.”
Mason laughed, “Oh yeah, I remember that.”
Keenan walked in just before the bell, “Hey babe.”
“Hey,” Val returned the greeting.
“So I was wondering—Alex invited you to his party, right?”
Val nodded.
“Cool. Well I was just thinking—we could go as a couple. I’d pick you up, and Porter could take us—he’s going too.” Keenan smiled, as if it were the greatest idea of the century.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Val hesitated, wary of accepting any offer that would place her in the same room as Porter, much less the same car.
“Come on, it’ll be fun. And after,” Keenan leaned in close to whisper in Val’s ear while Mr. Phillips launched in on the day’s lesson, “We could go back to my place. My mom is going to some conference or something, and Porter’s cool—he’d totally leave us alone.”
“What if your mom gets back early though?” Val asked.
Keenan shrugged, “My room’s got a lock. We can just pretend we closed the door to study or something.”
Val came up with a dozen more problems with the plan—potentially awkward scenarios or minute details that she tried to make seem way worse than they really were—but Keenan had a solution for every one she brought up. Finally, Val realized she would either have to discuss Porter’s recent coolness towards her or agree to Keenan’s plan. The former was a conversation she wasn’t prepared to have, so Val resigned herself to the eventuality of having to get a ride from Porter to Alex’s party; Maybe he’ll realize how stupid his silent game is and give it up.
Without Jenny to shush them, Val and Keenan talked all period. She looked at her notes at the end of class, and felt a pang of regret; they barely filled half a page.
“So what?” Keenan commented when Val mentioned her meager notes, “That’s more than enough to do well on the test. I bet you there’ll be maybe one question from today on there.” As always, Val was envious of her boyfriend’s nonchalance.
Wednesday was the second of Student Gov’s two normal meeting days; Val hoped Avery wouldn’t be there—or, failing that, that Avery would ignore her and forget about any revenge she was planning against Val.
“So, any ideas for Homecoming?” Val asked as she sat in her usual spot beside Alex and near the Trio; Jenny hadn’t arrived yet.
“Yeah,” Zoey replied; she pulled a garish pink notebook out of her backpack. “I looked up Irish Gods, and there are some cool ones: Morrigan, the goddess of battle, strife and fe
rtility, Airitech, mother of werewolves, Dagda, who rules over life and death, and Rosmerta, the goddess of fire. I think they could be our four.”
Val nodded, “That might be cool. I was talking with Colin though—he’s a junior—and he suggested that we could do, like, Irish mythical creatures. Like leprechauns and fairies and druids. If the Irish had werewolves, we could do those too.”
“Ooh, good idea,” Alex broke in, “I hope we get werewolves!”
“Werewolves!” Sophia shook her head, “I wanna be fairies.”
“What? Why?” Alex asked the pair of questions like the idea of being a fairy, even for the week leading up to the Homecoming Assembly, was the most distasteful thought he could fathom, “Werewolves are ferocious. Fairies are just—gay.”
“Fairies are pretty,” Sophia argued.
“If you say so. But that’s not the point. We don’t want to be pretty, we want to be ferocious. I vote werewolves.”
“Well it doesn’t matter,” Val said, “Cause we’re the only class that doesn’t get to choose, remember?” She felt a cold hand on her back.
“Hey fellow representatives, how’s your Homecoming planning going?” Avery asked; Val fought the urge to shy away from her enemy’s hand.
“Pretty well,” Zoey replied.
“Yeah,” Ella agreed, “We’ve already decided on a theme!”
“Oh?” Avery smiled at Val, “And what would that be?”
“Irish—stuff,” Ella answered, less than eloquently.
“Irish stuff,” Avery repeated slowly, “Pray tell, whose idea was that?”
“Val’s,” Sophia replied.
“Val’s,” Avery turned to face her; Val could feel Avery’s breath on her face, “You thought ‘Irish stuff’ would be a good Homecoming theme?”
“Yeah. Cause our school colors are green and gold, which seems Irish to me.”
Avery laughed, “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy watching how this plays out. If you screw up the Assembly and Dance—when you screw up the Assembly and Dance—there are going to be a lot of angry people.” She left before Val could reply.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do Irish stuff,” Zoey suggested.
“Just because Avery doesn’t like an idea doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea,” Grant pointed out.