"You got this, Wendy," I told myself, staring at my reflection in the mirror that fine Thursday morning. Although I usually visited the ladies' room during the study period, I rarely stayed there for more than five minutes. But that day was different. I needed the extra minutes to coach myself with some kind and encouraging words.
Melissa had already submitted our script to Mr. Scott, and my brain wouldn't let me rest as thousands of questions swam through my mind.
What if it's not good enough? What if I didn't do enough research about the Regency romance period? What if he thought the characters were flawed and under-developed? What if...
As I let a bunch of what-ifs cloud my mind, my unruly brown hair caught my eye for the first time.
Did I seriously neglect the whole hair situation for way too long? Was I too caught up in life to even realize my hair's been on vacation without me? As I'm casually playing with my locks, a sudden urge to pee hits me. Apparently, I chugged way too much orange juice this morning. Usually, I could hold it in like a champ, but the combo of excitement and anxiety is giving my bladder a hard time.
Geez!
I hurriedly locked myself in a bathroom stall, unzipped my pants, and let out a sigh of relief as I started to pee. Just as I was about to grab some tissues, the door slammed open, and in came three voices I recognized all too well.
"Did you seriously dream about him last night?" The first voice, irritatingly high-pitched, belonged to Claudia, Megan's cousin and BFF.
Megan's giggles filled the room. "Oh, totally. It was... hot. Ben's hands were all over my body."
Ben? I felt an immediate urge to gag. She was clearly talking about Mr. Scott. I peeked through the crack in the door to eavesdrop.
"He's fine, alright," Lauren commented, adjusting her bra or... boobs? She was pushing things up for a more revealing cleavage. Among them, she used to be the standout beauty, a younger Nina Dobrev. But she faded into Megan's blonde crew after dyeing her hair to match theirs.
"I'd do him in a heartbeat," Claudia squealed. Seriously, how did they tolerate her voice and those giggles? It's like she had a helium tank stuck in her throat.
"Dream on, girl," Megan laughed. "I've already got my eyes set on him."
Claudia asked about Mason, and Megan responded, "Mason doesn't have to know."
Lauren raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Scott's a nice person, and I don't think he'd date students."
I silently agreed with you there, Lauren!
Megan turned to her. "Wanna bet?" she challenged.
Claudia, always enthusiastic, tugged at her hair. "Oh! Let's make it more fun. Whoever gets to kiss Mr. Scott gets $200. If you—" She pointed at Megan, "—get to kiss him, you'd get a hundred bucks each from Lauren and me. And if Lauren or I get to kiss him—"
"I get it," Megan interrupted. "Deal."
Claudia laughed. "This is gonna be fun!"
I shook my head, still perched on the toilet. Their bet was a one-way ticket for Mr. Scott to lose his job and end up behind bars. He didn't deserve that. After being kind to me instead of ratting me out to my parents, Mr. Scott deserved respect. It wasn't his fault he was born good-looking with undeniable sex appeal.
Nope, not his fault at all.
After what I had accidentally overheard from Megan, Lauren, and Claudia, an inner battle quickly took off inside my mind as I sat next to Penny for lunch.
Should I or should I not tell Mr. Scott about the bet?
I was torn. Half of me wanted to warn him about it and save him from a possible scandal, but a part of me just didn't want to get involved anymore. I mean, I accused him of a crime that didn't even happen. But this bet business was different. I heard the entire conversation, not just bits and pieces of it, and something was going to happen if I chose not to do anything.
But what should I tell Mr. Scott? And how should I tell him about the bet? Wouldn't it be a petty thing to say to a teacher? But couldn't he handle it himself?
The struggle was real. What do I tell Mr. Scott? And how do you casually drop, "Hey, Mr. Scott, there's a bunch of teens betting on who gets to kiss you for cash"?
"Hey, Penny, how about we check that new ice cream parlor. Just you and me." Jay's friendly voice interrupted my thoughts.
Dressed in a surprising blue shirt, instead of his usual dark plaid shirt and with his hair pulled back out of his face, he winked at Penny while suggestively licking the strawberry popsicle in his hand.
As I'm wrestling with these thoughts, Jay, looking unusually dapper in a blue shirt (bye-bye, plaid), with his hair pulled back, rudely interrupts my inner turmoil. "Hey, Penny, how about we check that new ice cream parlor. Just you and me."
My bestie Penny, unimpressed, throws shade at him. "Are you talking to me?"
And I, forever a sucker for ice cream distractions, perk up at the idea of a new spot. Ice cream is my weakness; no shame.
"There's a new ice cream parlor?" I asked.
"It's right in front of your dad's restaurant," Jay answered with the duh expression written all over his face.
I watched him lick the melting popsicle in his hand and make a face. "My dad doesn't own Cup and Saucer; he only works there."
"So, what do you say, Penny?" He winked at my best friend again.
Penny pushed her tray away and rolled her eyes. "Stop winking, or I'll have your mouth kiss your own little ass."
Adam, who was sitting in front of me next to Jay, found the whole thing hilarious, dropping Jell-O and all. Jay, oblivious, kept on with his suggestive popsicle licking.
Jay frowned and continued to lick the popsicle that was slowly starting to bother me. Seriously, couldn't he feel the cold, sticky liquid dripping on his hand?
"I just want—" He paused and dug something from his side pocket, his mobile phone. "Okay, I gotta go. Some lonely human being needs my assistance in the love department," he said inconspicuously, like he didn't want us to hear it.
But Penny totally caught Jay's cryptic love department comment, giving him a look like he just babbled in an alien tongue. Before I could even inquire about his weird statement, he casually dumped the remains of his melted popsicle on his tray and made a grand exit from our table.
"Love department? What's his deal now?" I shot the question at Adam, hoping for some insight.
He sighed, acting like answering the question was against his will, but Penny's persistence left him no choice. "People pay him to be a wingman."
Penny squinted her eyes, clearly not getting it. I wasn't either. "What do you mean?"
"He helps guys score dates, like a cupid or something—"
"That's just messed up. He can't be doing that," Penny protested. "He's capitalizing on these guys' low self-esteem, like Brinson, Luke, and Parker. And sneaky girls like Olivia, Martha, and Peyton won't genuinely date them because they actually like them. Brinson might be the class clown, but his parents are loaded. I bet one of these girls would date him for the money, while Luke and Parker are just going to end up making their assignments for the rest of the school year."
I questioned Penny's certainty. "How can you be so sure these guys are Jay's clients?"
"Because it's too obvious. Do you really think Mason or any of the jocks need a wingman? They just flash their abs, and it's game over."
I wasn't entirely convinced, but Penny had a point about Luke and Parker. Brinson's a funny guy, and he's clueless, and there's a reason why Luke and Parker were called the Geekly Duo. They were the supreme nerds of Pinecrest High and also the most clueless when it came to girls and the subject of dating. Olivia, Martha, and Peyton, on the other hand, were cheerleaders and were practically cut from the same cloth as Megan.
Adam grunted. "You're overreacting, Penny. All Jay does is give his clients a window of opportunity. Whatever they do with it is completely up to them."
Penny narrowed her eyes at him, unconvinced and, at the same time, revolted by his explanation. "He is getting paid for creating that bogus window of opportunity. It's messed up."
I nodded in agreement. "Yep, she's got a point. You should tell Jay to stop."
If Penny was right and Brinson, Luke, and Parker were Jay's clients, I felt bad for them. Those guys were decent, unlike Mason, who made their lives miserable. Luke and Parker had been doing the assignments for half of the soccer team, yet they couldn't even bother to treat them decently.
"Why don't you talk to Jay?" Adam suggested to Penny. "Or, you know, give the guy a break."
Penny glared at him. "What's with the sudden attitude change?" she asked, bewildered, as Adam stood up.
"I'm outta here. See you later."
Penny's jaw dropped, and she stared after Adam as he left with his tray.
"What's up with him? Why can't he see how messed up Jay's doing..."? My focus shifted as soon as Megan, Claudia, and Lauren strolled by our table, giggling and whispering about something I knew all too well—the bet.