Hey again! Just wanted to say a quick thank you for all the support so far on this story, hope you enjoy this chapter too :) it's kind of short, but I'll have another up soon!
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Chapter 8
“Hey, Bryce,” Tiffany says, and Kyle and Marcus move around a little to let him into the distorted circle-like shape we’re standing in.
“So you guys met Madison,” Bryce says, nodding at me.
“Yeah,” Summer says. “How’d you know her?”
“Beach party,” Bryce answers her. “What’s up?”
Kyle says, “Nothing new.”
Tiffany says, “Ann-Marie Thompson totally hooked up with Jason Wills over the summer, even though she was still dating Sam. Like he was never gonna find out. They broke up,” she added, as an afterthought.
“Madison was just saying she’s stuck in AP Physics,” Summer throws in. “Totally jacked up, right?”
“You’re kidding, they really can’t fix that?” Bryce asks me sympathetically. I shrug and shake my head.
“I don’t suppose you guys know anyone else stuck in that class with me?” I ask hopelessly, partly because I feel I should contribute to the conversation, and partly because I think it’d be nice to know somebody in the class.
Kyle and Tiffany laugh. “No way,” Kyle tells me. “Sorry, Madison, think you’re gonna be alone in a sea of nerds in that class.”
It’s the way he says ‘nerds’ that makes me frown a little. Like it’s a bad thing. Like he means it in a derogatory way.
“The worst thing about me being in a sea of nerds will be that I’m definitely going to flounder,” I say, instead of asking him what’s so bad about being a nerd. In my mind, ‘nerd’ always seemed synonymous with ‘smart’, at least from my view on the outskirts of high school.
They laugh though. “Loving that pun,” Adam tells me, and the silent guy, Marcus, nods appreciatively at it. Even if I was going to voice my thoughts to Kyle, the bell rings, meaning the ten minute break between classes is over. Tiffany links her arm through mine.
“Biology next, right?”
“Um, yeah. Right,” I say. To the others, I add, “Bye.”
“I’ll see y’all at lunch!” Tiffany calls as we all start to head separate ways.
We’re halfway down the hallway when she sighs and says, “So. Bryce. What’s the deal with you guys?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You know,” she laughs, and bumps my shoulder. “You guys talked at the party, and he walked you to homeroom this morning… And what was it he just called you then?”
I think for a second. “Mainstream?”
“Yeah, that. So what’s the deal? Do you like him?”
“What? Oh, no! No, we’re – we’re just friends. I mean…”
I trail off when Tiffany laughs again. She says, “Alright, well I’ll ask you this: Do you think he’s cute? Come on, be honest with me now.”
“Well… yeah. I mean, of course he’s cute.”
“He’s the star soccer player for the school, you know,” she informs me. “He’s on the football team, too, but soccer’s the big thing in this school. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”
“Oh, okay. Well that’s cool.”
But in my head I think, Duh. Like I didn’t already guess he was Mr. Big-shot Jock?
“He’s totally going to end up with a soccer scholarship, too.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm, everyone says so.” She pauses. “And I think he’s pretty interested in you,” she tells me in sing-song. We walk into a room I assume is our biology classroom, and it looks like nearly everyone’s already there, but the teacher hasn’t started yet. Tiffany guides me toward a lab bench with a couple of spaces on, and I sit down next to a girl who’s doodling in her notebook.
Out of the corner of my eye I see her glance up at us, then shuffle over to make a little more room.
I laugh in response to Tiffany. “Yeah, right. I barely know the guy. He’s not interested in me.”
Tiffany smiles, like she’s holding onto a secret that only she knows. “Whatever you say, Madison, whatever you say.”
I give a careless kind of laugh. Meanwhile, my mind races, trying to process everything.
Because 1) Tiffany, one of the most popular girls in school, seems to be my friend. And she introduced me to her friends, which should mean that 2) I may actually be becoming a part of the elite popular clique of high school, and that’s something that I’d never even have considered happening to me. I just wanted to make friends here, and to not be miserable and lonely. Being part of the popular clique was never even considered as part of my plan in being the new Madison.
And then there is the small matter that 3) Bryce, who from the sound of things is Mr. Popular and quite possibly considered the cutest guy in school, could be interested in me. At least, according to Tiffany. And that seems totally crazy to me. He’s totally out of my league, and I don’t expect him to be interested in me.
I’d like him to be interested, of course.
But I don’t think he is.
And frankly, I’d rather not get my hopes up.
Throughout the next forty minutes, Tiffany tells me everything and anything about all her friends. She, Summer and Melissa have been best friends since third grade.
Marcus, who I met earlier, is the ‘strong, silent type’. And totally loved up with Summer – they’ve been dating for fifteen months now. “It’s so totally adorable,” Tiffany gushes. The last of the guys who they usually hang out with is Richard – “but everyone calls him Ricky.”
The teacher shoots a glare in the direction of me and Tiffany before carrying on explaining the PowerPoint presentation about natural selection the class is all taking notes on. My notes are disjointed and I know I’ve missed some stuff out, trying so hard to pay attention to what Tiffany’s telling me. I’m sure I’ve got something amidst my notes on Warfarin-resistant rats about that time Melissa had a crush on her geography teacher in the eighth grade.
I know I wanted to try and focus a little more on my schoolwork here, but I don’t really care that I’m not giving my full attention to the teacher, choosing to be more attentive to Tiffany. I’m flattered she wants to be friends with me, and how it seems like that’s given me an easy pathway right into the popular clique, the highest point of the high school social hierarchy. I don’t want to mess it up. But they seem like nice people, taking me in without question like this.
Besides, it’s not like I can afford to turn down the offer of friendship.
Tiffany rolls her eyes once the teacher turns back to the projector screen and away from us, and carries on, lowering her voice only a little.
“Of course, we’ll hang out with the rest of the jocks. And the rest of the squad, but –”
“What squad?” I interrupt. Then I hastily tag on, “Sorry,” in case she’s at all offended by my interruption.
She doesn’t seem to be annoyed though. She smiles and arches her eyebrows slightly. “Oh, did I forget to mention? Cheerleading squad. Every Tuesday afternoon – during school, though. Coach managed to free up our afternoons.”
“Ah,” I say, nodding. Of course they’re cheerleaders. Why wouldn’t they be? “Can I take a wild guess here, and say you’re head cheerleader?”
Tiffany laughs loud enough to have the teacher turn around. “Miss Blanche, please.” Then he goes back to teaching.
“Sadly, no,” Tiffany tells me. “Seniors only. Ditto for vice head cheerleader. But I’ve got a pretty good shot at it next year, Coach told me.”
“Ah, okay. Cool.”
“I’m sometimes on the tennis team in summer,” she tells me. “And Summer was thinking about joining the swim team but I don’t think she will anymore.”
I’m really glad Tiffany is being nice to me, and that it looks as if I’ll get straight in with the popular crowd, don’t get me wrong – but it makes me anxious. Like, what if I do something to mess it up? I’m not the best person when it comes to social skills, so there’s a decent chance I’ll do something to screw this up.
I can’t afford to screw this up.
I know there’s that reputation popular people have – that they’re shallow, and conceited, and horrible, and self-centered. But I know it’s not always true; Jenna wasn’t like that. Not everyone fits the mold. I don’t know that these people are going to be like that, so I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt.
*
Ambling out of the biology lab, we head to the cafeteria. Well, I don’t know we’re heading there at first, but Tiffany leads the way and when we walk through a set of doors, there’s the usual hustle and bustle of a school cafeteria, kids trying to grab their food and get a seat. There are two queues, one at each side of the cafeteria: one for salad and sandwiches, and one for a hot meal – looks like today it’s taco day.
Tiffany heads for a queue that’s at the counter for salads. I’m not surprised that this is the shorter of the two lines. I stand there too, but I’m not hungry – all the anxiety that’s been building up through the course of the morning has made my stomach feel unsettled. I know I should eat something though, since I was way too nervous for breakfast, so when we get to the counter I grab an oatcake and a banana.
Tiffany, much to my surprise, has a can of (full fat) soda, a BLT sandwich and a Three Musketeers bar. She turns to me and says, “Don’t tell me that’s your lunch.”
“Um, yeah.”
“Seriously?” She goes kind of bug-eyed when I nod my head.
“Well what about you?” I say, nodding at her lunch. I would’ve thought – and call me stereotypical, I know – the future captain of the cheerleading squad would at least eat a healthy lunch.
“Oh, this?” She laughs. “This is nothing. Seriously, my metabolism is so high, I could eat a Big Mac every lunchtime and keep this figure. Well. With a little exercise. But that’s totally covered anyway.”
“Lucky,” I say – and I say it enviously, but if she notices she doesn’t let on; instead, Tiffany just laughs and nods good-naturedly. I start to think she’s really not the horrible, conceited kind of popular girl. She’s nice.
“Summer! Marcus!” Tiffany hollers, holding her tray in one hand and waving across the canteen with the other.
I recognize a guy from earlier – Kyle – walking over. Bryce joins us, along with Melissa, and some guy I haven’t met yet. I think he’s Richard – or Ricky, I suppose – since he seems to be the only guy I haven’t been introduced to yet, and the only face I can’t put a name to.
We’re all congested in the center of the cafeteria within a couple of minutes.
“Let’s eat inside,” Summer says, answering a question I guess was waiting to be answered. So I follow them, feeling like the black sheep in the herd, across the cafeteria, which seems perturbingly long. I know people are looking over, and I can feel them looking at me, too. I hate it.
I’m itching to get out my iPod – but I don’t want them to think I’m antisocial or anything.
I get the feeling, as we all drop into seats – with me on the end, opposite Ricky and next to Melissa – that this lunch hour is going to be very long.
I fiddle with the strap on my bag nervously, and keep tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally flattered and more than a little excited that I’m at the ‘cool table’, sat with the popular kids, practically one of the elite. But I have no idea how to act, what to do, what to say, and it feels so surreal. Dream-like. It’s just not right.
I mean, come on. I’m Fatty Maddie. The outcast, loner, weirdo girl from Pineford. I can change the way I look, but seriously, things like this are only supposed to happen in movies. They don’t actually happen in real life.
I’m literally expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me I’ve been Punk’d.
“Madison?” someone prompts as I nibble my oatcake. I jump, realizing they’ve all been talking and I’ve not been listening.
“Huh? Sorry, totally zoned out.”
“Cheerleading tryouts? Are you up for it?” Tiffany asks.
“Come on,” Melissa goads me. “It’ll be so cool!”
“Plus,” Tiffany adds, “you’re really little. I bet you’d be really easy to throw around.”
I actually snort. It’s a proper snort – the kind that nobody should ever hear you do. But I can’t help it, honestly. The thought of me, cheerleading… Me being part of the popular clique is ridiculous enough, but me at cheerleading tryouts?
As if.
“Um, no,” I say bluntly, my voice flat and unequivocal. “No way in heck will you ever get me doing that.”
There’s a moment of silence.
Bryce is the first to break it. “Why not? What’s wrong with cheerleading?”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it,” I tell him, picking a piece off my oatcake and popping it in my mouth. “It’s just not for me, at all.”
“Too mainstream?” He puts a teasing emphasis on the word ‘mainstream’, which makes me bite back a smile and lean forward to look down the table at him.
“Ha-ha,” I say, layering the sarcasm on thick. “So anyway, what’s everyone got after lunch?”
I say it just so they aren’t focused on me at all; it works.
I’m right about it being a long lunch hour. I’m so nervous and fidgety, time passes all that more slowly. About fifteen minutes before the bell is due to go, we all begin to get up, grabbing up the remnants of our lunches and the trash.
What happens next happens quickly.
“Whoa,” says one of the guys loudly. I’m not sure who it is, so I step around from behind Melissa to see Kyle standing in front of a couple of people – I recognize them both in a heartbeat. “Watch where you’re going next time.”
I can’t be sure if he walked into them or if they really did get in the way; either way, I just stand there and stare, my mouth open in a small circle, as I look at Andy and Dwight. Andy has something wet all over his green sweater – I assume it’s orange soda from the open can he’s holding.
“Gee, thanks,” Andy says sarcastically, muttering it more than saying it to Kyle’s face, and he pulls at his sweater. “Jackass.”
I notice the others in our little group are mostly gone, except Adam and me. I just stand there, though, rooted to the spot.
“Get a life, losers,” Kyle mutters audibly, barging past Dwight and purposely slamming into him, with Adam following.
“Get some brain cells,” I hear Dwight retort under his breath. Andy smirks in response.
Then they catch my eye. It’s Dwight I’m looking at though. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something in his expression I really don’t like. It’s similar to how he seemed to be at the party on the beach, after I’d spoken to Bryce. Hiss sea-green eyes are penetrating, and I feel like I’ve done something wrong.
“Uh,” I stammer. “I – I have to… Bye.”
I hurry away in the direction the others just disappeared. I have this sick, twisting feeling in my stomach, and I know I should’ve said something, done something, told Kyle to shut up, or at least stayed and talked to Dwight. I haven’t seen Dwight since the party – didn’t I at least owe him a ‘hello’?
But no, I just scurry off after my new friends, because I just genuinely don’t know what to do. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, until the bell rings, all I can do is ponder what I should’ve done, and think about that awful expression on Dwight’s face.
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...thoughts on this one? :)
(I'm hoping you all don't hate Madison; if you do, however, then please just stick with it another couple of chapters and see if you still dislike her then, please!)
leave a comment and let me know what you thought, please vote if you liked it :') I'll upload the next chapter about Friday :) x