bones in your body that he can breee-aaaaaak,” Kimberlee called in a sing- song voice as I walked away from her. I resisted the urge to flip her off.
As we sat down I noticed that Sera caught Mikhail’s eye across the room and smiled.
One problem at a time, I reminded myself. I was already just glad she was more than an incredibly pretty face. I mean, she’d asked me—a new nobody—to come sit with her. At the very least that meant she was nice.
“Hey, who’s your friend, Sera?” a girl with brown hair and glittery eye shadow asked, eyeing me a little like I was a piece of meat.
It was very strange.
“Oh, this is Jeff, guys. He’s new.” Then she set her tray down and started pointing around the table and rattled off about a dozen names. There was a Hampton and a Jasmine, some guy named Wilson, and I think there were two Jewels. Glitter-girl was named Brynley—or Breelee? Something like that. What was wrong with the parents in this city? Hadn’t anyone ever heard of naming their kids Kevin or Amber or anything even remotely mainstream?
“So,” one of the Jewels said when Sera was done. “Where’re you from?”
“Me?” Duh. “Phoenix.”
“Ooh, do you have rattlesnakes there?”
“Out in the desert, yeah. But I lived in the city.” In the ghetto, I almost added. Well, not exactly the ghetto, but compared to here? Ghetto.
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“What do you play?” a guy asked. Wilson?
“Uh, Xbox?” I said with a nervous laugh.
“No, I mean, you’re pretty tall—you a baller or what?”
“Kinda,” I said. Blatant lie. People always assume I play basketball because I’m tall. I’d like to ask people if they play miniature golf because they’re short, but I had a feeling breaking that one out right now wasn’t going to endear me to anyone. “I hear our team is pretty good,” I tacked on. More lies.
“Yeah, you should come to a game,” the guy said. “Sera and Jasmine cheer.”
“You’re a cheerleader?” Now I understood the ripped legs.
“Junior co-captain of the squad,” she said. I didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded important.
“So are you the girl they always, like, throw in the air?” I asked.
Her chin rose just a little. “Sometimes, but usually I’m the one tumbling in the front.”
The thought of Sera jumping around in a cheer skirt stoked a sudden passion for hoops within me. Why, of course I love basketball. Go team! And, note to self, find out what our team is. Probably the Fighting Preppies or something like that.
“Cool,” I said, wondering if I should be glad I found the nice cheerleader, or even more convinced that she was out of my league. Her profile was perfect. She had long eyelashes that were probably red or blond under her mascara. All I knew for sure was I could stare into her eyes all day.
Another ten minutes of small talk flowed around me. It wasn’t that they talked about things that weren’t interesting—local indie concerts, who was hooking up or breaking up, which teachers were the lamest—it’s just that I didn’t know enough about anything to join in.
When there was a lull, I worked up the nerve to turn to Sera and ask, “So, you heard about the party this weekend?”
She looked over at me, but said nothing.
“Harrison Hill?” I added nervously, hoping Kimberlee—not to mention Langdon and his friends—hadn’t fed me a total line about it being the place to be.
“Yeeeeaaaah,” she said, drawing out the word. “I did hear something about that.”
“I was kinda thinking maybe I’d see you there.”
“I don’t do keggers,” she said, her smile tightening. “Not my thing.”
“You’re not going?” I did not have a backup plan for that.
“Sera doesn’t do the partying scene,” Wilson piped in “helpfully.”
“How come?” I asked.
Sera shrugged. “I’m in the middle of competition season for cheer. The last thing I need is to get wasted on the weekends.”
“You don’t have to drink.” You could, say, make out with me instead. But I had a feeling it wasn’t in my best interest to say that out loud.
“Trust me, the parties are only fun if you’re drunk,” she said.
I laughed but she didn’t look amused.
“I’m going,” Brynley said, looking up at me.
“Me too,” Hampton added.
I pulled out one more piece of ammunition. “I’m going with Langdon,” I said, hoping he actually was as cool as Kimberlee made him sound.
“Langdon?” Sera said, though not in quite the same tone of voice I had said it.
“And Neil,” I added, not so confident in my invite anymore.
She looked like she wanted to say something, and then changed her mind and took a bite instead. “Maybe I should drop by,” she said after swallowing.
“Nice job, bro,” Wilson said softly, nudging my shoulder. “She hasn’t gone to one of these things since freshman year.” He whispered freshman year like it was a secret. As though being a freshman was some kind of embarrassing option.
The guys around me chuckled nervously, but I was lost.
After a few seconds Sera smiled awkwardly and grabbed the edges of her tray. “I better—”
“Are you going to bring your boyfriend?” I asked, totally cutting her off. Yes, I am a desperate loser.
Everyone at the table fell silent.
“Do you have news for us?” the other Jewel said, leaning forward on her elbows with her eyes glinting.
“No,” Sera said flatly.
No?
No!
“What about that Mikhail guy?” I hedged.
Sera raised an eyebrow and looked at me in confusion. “Khail?”
“Yeah, the, uh . . . wrestler?” Everyone was looking at me now, and I wanted to disappear—melt right through the floor like Kimberlee could. Then, almost as one, they started laughing. Not social, polite laughing; serious you-got-Punk’d laughing.
And I had no clue why.
I
