The Mosts Read online

  “The clothes you gave me,” I pointed out. “Anything you said you didn’t want back. Didn’t you say that tank was ‘so two summers ago’?”

  “Yes, but still. I gave it to you. Not some stranger.”

  “I’m just trying to earn my airfare, Caro,” I reminded her.

  “Well, do it without handing out my clothes all over school,” she said, resuming walking.

  “And hello, was that my haircut?” Fergie asked. “Madeline, a little bit more originality, please. Now I have to change my style if everyone’s going to copy me.”

  “You’re overdue, anyway,” Caro commented. Fergie shot her a look, but before she could say anything, Caro stopped dead in her tracks again. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she snapped as Elinor turned the corner. Elinor was dressed top to bottom in Caro Alexander hand-me-downs. “She looks ridiculous.”

  She sort of did, but she still looked better than she had before. And her hair looked a hundred times better.

  “You have to admit it’s an improvement, Caro,” Fergie pointed out.

  “Of course it’s an improvement,” Caro said. “It’s a Marc Jacobs skirt.”

  “She paired it with that orange T-shirt herself,” I said. “That shows some progress, some sense of burgeoning style, don’t you think?”

  Caro wrinkled her face in disgust. “Why am I even talking about a Not?” she asked. “I could be telling you what happened with Sam last night. I tried to call you, Madeline, but your phone must have been shut off.”

  My phone had not been shut off. As if it would ever be. She was yet again making a point. And yet again I had no idea what it was.

  “What happened with Sam?” I asked. Sam, who’d made himself scarce the past two weeks. I’d barely seen him at all. Not at the farm and not at school.

  Caro leaned close. “So last night, Sam came over to help me study for the French final. And I made my move.”

  Fergie and I both stared at her, waiting. “I heard a little of it on the phone last night,” Fergie said to me, “but Caro wanted to tell us both together.”

  “Well, I can’t tell you in the middle of the hallway with everyone staring at me,” she said. “Let’s go to the bench.”

  We headed to the atrium. Caro texted Selena, and in ten seconds, Selena and Annie appeared at her feet. Caro liked her “girls” to surround her. Especially when she was “sharing.” “Okay, so, this is what happened. We were in my bedroom, sitting on my bed, and I just took the pencil out of one of his hands and the stupid textbook out of the other, and put both his hands on my chest,” she said. “While looking him right in the eye.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Double really?” Fergie said.

  “Yup,” she said. “At first, he was so surprised he didn’t move a finger. But then he did. Slowly. Very slowly. And not away.”

  “And then what?” Selena asked, looking like she was about to melt onto the floor.

  “And then he kissed me,” Caro said. “His hands never leaving my chest. Except they went under the shirt. Under the bra.”

  “Omigod, that’s hot,” Fergie said, slicking on her sparkly red-pink lip gloss. “Then what?”

  “Did you sleep with him?” I asked.

  “No,” Caro said. “But I might.”

  “Oooh!” Selena exclaimed. “Oooh, oooh, oooh!”

  We were all virgins. Caro had gone the farthest. Fergie the second farthest. And me, practically nowhere. Caro had done everything but have sexual intercourse.

  “So how far did you guys go?” Annie asked.

  “Just that,” Caro said. “My mom barged in like two seconds later to offer us ice cream and totally ruined the moment, and then he had to leave anyway.”

  “You really would have slept with him? Sex-sex?” Fergie asked.

  “I think so,” Caro said. “I’m not totally sure. I don’t want to play my whole hand just yet.”

  “Meaning?” Fergie asked.

  “Meaning he’s clearly interested,” Caro explained. “If I give him everything he wants immediately, I’ll have nothing left. C’mon, Fergie—that’s Girl 101.”

  “So when are you seeing him again?” I asked.

  She ran her fingers through her silky blond hair. “He didn’t exactly ask me out. But he will. I just gave him a taste of what to expect. He’ll totally want more.”

  “So ask him out,” Fergie said. “Why wait for him?”

  “Because I have been waiting,” she said. “And I’ve made it clear I want him. If he doesn’t make the next move, I’ll look desperate. And desperate is not a good look for a girl.”

  Fergie nodded. “You should totally be voted Most Wise.”

  In English class, I couldn’t stop looking at Sam. I kept trying to picture him making out with Caro, his hands all over her. But I couldn’t.

  Here was what was really weird: I felt sort of … jealous. But that made no sense. Well, it sort of did. I thought he liked me. And yet he went for Caro the second she put his hands on her chest.

  He caught me staring and smiled at me.

  And then I realized that someone was staring at me: Avery. Her hair looked amazing. She’d toned down her makeup, but she still had a model-y glow. She looked great in Caro’s tank top and my old skinny jeans.

  I shot her a small smile and turned my attention back to my notebook, where I scrawled Life is really, really weird.

  Chapter 13

  On Saturday, we met at Avery’s house. I loved her bedroom. Everything was white and minimalist, except the cute little brown dachshund, named Lucy, on her bed.

  “Guess what?” Elinor said when I sat down at Avery’s desk. “I’ve gotten at least a hundred compliments on my hair. I can’t even tell you how many girls said they wished they had long curly hair like mine! Can you believe it?” Elinor’s hair didn’t look like it had when she’d left the salon, but there were still defined ringlets where the mass of frizz puffs had been.

  I smiled. “I can believe it. You look great.”

  She beamed.

  Avery, unquestionably stylish, sat on her bed, and Joe was sitting against the wall. He’d gotten new sneakers. They weren’t blinding white, either. He too looked great, almost like a different guy.

  Elinor had e-mailed me the day before to say that now that the interns had conquered their outsides, they wanted to start on the insides. So while waiting for Thom to text me Friday night (he hadn’t), I’d planned out Saturday’s session, How to Talk to Anyone, complete with three bandannas borrowed from the top of Sabrina’s dresser.

  I blindfolded Elinor and told her to pretend that Joe was the guy of her dreams, someone she’d never spoken to before. She just happened to run into him and there was no one else around.

  “Are you imagining that Joe is the guy of your dreams?” I asked, making sure Elinor’s blindfold wasn’t loose.

  “Yes,” she said. She smiled her goofy smile.

  “Okay, so, Elinor, you’ve just run into X, as we’ll call him. What do you say?”

  “Nothing. I just clam up, break into hives, and then run.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “No, Elinor,” I said. “That was the old you. The unconfident you. The new Elinor says, ‘Hi, I know you from school, right?’”

  “But won’t that make her look stupid?” Avery asked. “I mean, of course she knows him from school.”

  “Two reasons,” I said. “First: he probably doesn’t know he knows her from school, so he has to actually think about whether he does. Like when Thom came to the barn that day two years ago, he had no idea who I was or that I went to his school.”

  “Wait, the first time your boyfriend saw you, he didn’t even know he knew you?” Avery asked.

  Did she have to harp on the point? “Yeah. Well, no one knew who I was. I was like you said you’ve been, Avery. An invisible nobody.”

  “So then you transformed and he wanted to date you?” she asked.

  “We’re not supposed to be talkin
g about me,” I said. “Let’s get back to—”

  “I would love to know how you and Thom got together,” Elinor said, peeking out from under the bandanna. “If it’s not too personal.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Joe said. “Maybe it’ll help me figure out how to approach the girl I want to ask to the Spring Fling.”

  Fine. “I’ll give you the quick version. Right before I went to Rome, Thom came to pick up Sam at the farm. He saw me in the barn feeding one of the calves and asked if he could try it. And so we hung out for a while.” I couldn’t contain my smile. “And then, out of the blue, he said to me, ‘You have the prettiest face.’ I almost died.”

  “And that’s when you started going out?” Avery asked.

  “He had a girlfriend then.” Caro’s new bestie, Morgan. “And when I came back from Rome, he didn’t even recognize me as the girl he’d met at the farm. When I told him it was me, he was amazed. He asked me out for that night and we’ve been a couple ever since.”

  “I love that he liked you before you transformed,” Elinor said. “That is so romantic.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t ask her out before she transformed,” Avery pointed out.

  I glared at her. “Because he had a girlfriend.”

  “I didn’t mean that in a bitchy way, I swear,” Avery said. “I just wonder if he didn’t have a girlfriend if he would have dared ask you out before you were all glam.”

  “You mean because she wasn’t part of his crowd?” Joe asked. “Why would he care? Do guys care about crap like that? I mean, if you like a girl, you like a girl.”

  “You work like that because you’re a good guy,” Avery said. “You’re not all caught up in who’s popular and who’s not and what will people think if you ask out a nobody.”

  I’d asked Thom about that once—whether he would have asked me out that first day at the farm if he hadn’t had a girlfriend. He’d said yes. But I remembered not believing it. One of the most popular guys at school asking out a plain farm girl with no friends? No way. I shared that with the interns.

  Elinor’s eyes widened. “You really don’t believe that? But he’s your boyfriend.”

  “Right,” Avery said. “So what was he supposed to say? ‘No, I wouldn’t have asked you out, because even though you’re the same girl, you were a loser nobody and I’m Thom Geller and I have a rep to protect’?”

  “But I wasn’t the same girl,” I said, now realizing I’d contradicted what I’d said—and believed—earlier. “I was awkward and shy and everything about me was off. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. That’s why I had no friends that first year I moved here. I didn’t even really like myself.”

  They stared at me. I couldn’t believe I’d said that. All of that. I felt my cheeks turning red.

  “But Thom did like you,” Elinor said. “He liked you so much he told you you had the prettiest face. He did like you, you as you were.”

  Avery bit her lip. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “See?” Joe said. “Told you guys don’t care about that stuff.”

  Some did, I knew. And I wouldn’t ever really know about Thom. I was glad I couldn’t know.

  “That’s really the whole point, isn’t it?” Elinor said, pulling a ringlet and letting it spring back. “Liking yourself. I know this is going to sound conceited, but I’ve always kind of liked myself. It’s just that no one else seems to. Well, except my family and some of the girls from band and mathletes.”

  “That sounds like a lot of people,” Joe said.

  “I don’t care if anyone likes me,” Avery said. “I just want to rule Freeport Academy.”

  Everyone stopped and stared at her.

  And then Elinor said, “Oh, Avery, you are too funny!”

  But Avery and I locked eyes. And I knew she meant it. She picked up her cute little dog and put him on her lap and began nuzzling his face with her nose. And I thought Caro Alexander was complicated?

  I glanced at my watch. Now we only had a half hour left. “Okay, so getting back to starting up a conversation. You say, ‘Hi, I know you from school, right?’ Or, if you’re at school, in the halls or in the caf, you say, ‘Hey, you’re in my history class, right?’ It’s a question. He has to respond. You’ve just initiated a conversation.”

  “Why does that sound easier than it is?” Joe said.

  I smiled. “Try it.”

  “Can someone else go first?” Joe asked.

  “I will!” Elinor said, leaping to her feet. I helped her adjust the bandanna so it covered her eyes again. “Joe, you be the guy I’m crushing on.” He stood up again and shoved his hands into his pockets. Elinor clasped and unclasped her hands twice. “Okay, I’m ready.” She took a deep breath. “Um, hi—I know you from school, right?”

  Joe started blushing. He was definitely going to need a lot of practice at this. “Uh, I think so. Freeport Academy?”

  “Yeah,” Elinor said, grinning. “I’m a sophomore—well, for three more weeks. You?”

  “Yep. Sophomore. So are you going to the Spring Fling dance?”

  “I’d like to” was her perfect response.

  “Well, in that case, would you like to go with me?” he asked.

  She giggled. “Definitely. Yay, I’m going to the Spring Fling with Sam Fray!” she exclaimed.

  Oh God. Did Elinor have a crush on Sam too?

  She pulled off the blindfold, her face falling a bit when she remembered that it was good old Joe and not really Sam standing next to her.

  “You both were great,” I said. “Just perfect!”

  “So you think I’m ready to try that out on the girl I like?” Joe asked.

  “A few more practice runs in the mirror at home and you’ve got it.”

  He smiled.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Elinor said, reaching into her backpack. She’d stopped using the bright red one with the little raccoons all over it and switched to a metallic silver one. It was still loud, but in a better way. “Here’s the last two hundred we owe you. Sorry we weren’t able to give you the full amount up front. Those Cotter twins ran me ragged, but it’s been worth every penny and we’re still not even done yet. You’ve really earned the money.”

  “Ditto,” Avery said as she went through her closet.

  “Double ditto,” Joe said, nodding at me.

  “I think that’s ‘tritto,’” Elinor said, furrowing her brow. “Avery, can I look up ‘tritto’ on your computer?” At Avery’s okay, Elinor started searching. “Yup, definitely ‘tritto.’”

  Only Elinor.

  “Well, then, tritto,” Joe said.

  I slid the envelope into my messenger bag. I had it all now. The four hundred dollars that would take me to California. So why wasn’t I asking Avery to borrow her computer so I could book my ticket right then? Maybe it was enough to know I had the money.

  I glanced at Elinor. She was standing in front of the floor-length mirror on the outside of Avery’s closet, mouthing her new lines. She looked so excited, so happy. My stomach sank. If she really had a crush on Sam, she was about to get her heart smashed.

  • • •

  After our class, Elinor and I walked to Main Street so she could sign up for the Lobster Claw Teen Queen Pageant. Now that she had almost two weeks of classes under her belt, Elinor finally felt secure in registering. She clutched the ad she’d cut out from the paper.

  LOBSTER CLAW TEEN QUEEN PAGEANT AND PARADE!

  Are you the next Lobster Claw Teen Queen? Entrants must be between the ages of 13 and 17 and will be judged on poise, talent, and an essay to be read aloud on what it means to be a teen today. 500 words minimum, 750 maximum. The winner will ride in a float down Main Street during the Lobster Claw Festival parade, see her winning essay printed in the Freeport Times, and receive a grand prize of $1,000!

  “I forgot about the talent component,” I said. “What’s your specialty?”

  “Either a modern-dance routine, reciting a passage from one of my favorite Shakespeare plays, or
possibly a brief clarinet piece.”

  “You can do all that? And well?”

  She bit her lip. “I can sing okay too, but I can’t sing and dance at the same time. I totally lose my breath. Anyway, Caro sings. I have a better chance of placing if I do something different.”

  Caro always sang. She had an amazing voice, rock meets opera. She always sang some old rhythm-and-blues song that stopped people in their tracks.

  On the lawn of the town hall, a woman sat behind a table with a clipboard and a stack of pink packets. The line to register wasn’t that long. There were maybe seven or eight people, girls and their mothers. Caro and her mom were near the front of the line when we arrived. I waved at Caro and she shot me a look of pure disgust. I knew what it meant: Why are you in public with that Not?

  I was getting sick of the dirty looks. Sick of being told—or very loudly not told—who I could talk to or associate with.

  After Caro registered, she and her mom started walking toward the parking lot, but as her mom got into the car, Caro waved me over.

  “I’ll be right back, Elinor,” I said.

  Caro’s hands were on her hips. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m just offering moral support,” I said. “It’s her first time signing up.”

  “In my clothes,” she said. “I want them back, Madeline. I’ve had it.”

  “Caro, she’s just borrowing them from me.”

  “No, you’re just borrowing them from me. I didn’t say she could wear my stuff. And didn’t we just have this conversation?”

  “Caro, come on. We’re talking about Elinor Espinoza. Do you really care?”

  “I don’t care about Smelinor Whateveroza, Madeline. I just don’t want my clothes on the backs of these … people.”

  Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. “Fine. I’ll tell her I need them back.”

  “Good.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at the line. “And another thing. I can’t believe you’re actually helping another candidate, Madeline.”

  I laughed. “Right. Like you have competition, Caro.”

  “Did I use the word ‘competition’? And anyway, that’s not the point. Anyone who enters the pageant is running against me. You know all my secrets—my beauty regimen, my best talents. You’ll use all that to help that loser.”