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"I'm not," I insisted. "I may have done some climbing, but I am not a climber. That's not who I am."
"Whatever. I never even asked you out, Cara. You know why? I knew I didn't have to. I knew I could get you in with my friends and you'd go right along with it."
I was so beyond offended that I wanted to scream at him-except he was right. Then I remembered something.
"Okay, fine-then you're a climber, too. Robert Schwarner said you used to be friends. What did you do, dump him to be more popular?"
"You really want to know? Robert dumped me. I tried to kiss him in fourth grade and he freaked out."
"Oh."
"Don't get me wrong, Cara. I don't care that you're a climber. I like it. It works for me. It means we can help each other. I am totally happy to keep things the way they are. You keep me looking hetero, and I'll keep you in with Trista and the girls."
"I don't like that you think I'm that shallow," I said.
"You don't like that I think it or that I see it?"
"G.o.d, you don't even like me, do you?"
"Of course I like you. I wouldn't want to hang out with you this much if I didn't like you. I might not respect you, but I like you just fine."
That was it. I needed to get away immediately. Not that I had a lot of options. I was too drunk to drive home, and The Hang was occupied. I slid off the chaise, keeping the blanket wrapped around me.
"What are you doing?" Eddie asked.
"I'm going for a walk."
"Cara, it's freezing. You're only warm because we have heaters."
I needed shoes, but I couldn't bear to stuff my feet back into heels. "I'm taking your sneakers," I told Eddie as I shoved them on.
"You'll swim in them."
"I'll deal."
Eddie was right, of course. His sneakers were several sizes larger than my feet. Walking in them was like strolling in flippers. I basically had to shuffle and covered all of an inch at a time.
"You still haven't told me," Eddie said as I attempted to move. "Are we still together? 'Cause believe me, you might think the girls are your best friends, but if we break up, you're history to them."
I didn't want to believe him. I wanted to scream at him that he was wrong, that the girls weren't just my friends, they were my sisters. I was one of them, and I would be whether or not Eddie Riegert deigned to call me his girlfriend.
But then I remembered the List and the other columns with owners scratched out of existence. Maybe the Populazzi girls would keep me in their circle ... but maybe they wouldn't. Did I really want to risk it? Trista, Ree-Ree, Kristie, and Gemma were now my only friends at Chrysella. If they dumped me, where would I be?
"Cara?" Eddie prodded.
"Yes," I said softly, hating myself for being just what he said I was. "We're still together."
"So you'll keep my secret?"
I glared at him. I'd hoped it went without saying that if I was going to keep acting like his girlfriend, I wouldn't advertise that he was gay.
"I need you to say it, Cara."
I hated him.
"I'll keep your secret."
"Good."
That was the extent of Eddie's concern. He lay back on the chaise and curled under the blankets as I trudged over the snow-covered ground. It was freezing, and I had no clue where I actually intended to go ... until I looked up to the main house. Someone had left the lights on in the large bas.e.m.e.nt room that led out to the pool, and through a gla.s.s sliding door I could see Riley, my favorite dog, curled up on a couch. That's what I needed. I turned and started the long, slow trek to the house. I had no clue if the slider was even unlocked, but I didn't care; I'd crawl through the dog door if I had to.
Clutching the blanket tightly around me, I slogged up one hill, around the pool, and up another hill. With each step, snow tumbled into my giant clown sneakers and froze my feet. They were soon numb, and I slipped, lost hold of the blanket, and slid down several snowy feet on my bare b.u.t.t. Could the night get any better? I didn't think so. Finally I neared the main house, and Riley's right ear p.r.i.c.ked up.
"Hey, boy," I cooed. He must have heard me through the gla.s.s because he lifted his head and gave me a tongue-out doggie smile that for one moment made everything in the world all right.
The sliding door opened when I tugged on the handle. Leaving it unlocked seemed like the height of irresponsibility, until I remembered the whole property was gated, so a few open doors probably weren't a big deal.
The warmth of the room melted me, and I closed my eyes a moment to let it seep into my frozen pores before I kicked off Eddie's shoes and staggered to the couch.
Thump-thump-thump-thump. Riley's tail beat happily against the cus.h.i.+ons as he waited for me to get comfortable.
"Okay, boy, come here."
Riley obeyed, bounding onto my lap so he could lick my face while I scratched his fuzzy black body. I gently grabbed his little head and kissed him right on his snout. Riley took this as a sign that we were now on intimate enough terms that he could roll over and present his belly for some serious rubbing.
As I scratched, I looked around the room, which seemed like a giant finished bas.e.m.e.nt made for casual entertaining. On the vast brown-s.h.a.g-covered floor sat not just the couch on which Riley and I cuddled but also two love seats and a couple recliners-all of which gathered around a large plasma TV with the works. Across the room to my right was a b.u.mper pool table. Off to the left was a 1950s-diner-style kitchenette with lots of steel, Formica, and red leatherette. The lights in that area were all off, but someone had been there earlier. I saw a huge pile of Tastykakes wrappers, empty soda cans, and an empty pint of ice cream. They were strewn on the carpet, as if a bunch of people had feasted on the floor. I knew Trista had a twelve-year-old little sister. Maybe she'd had a slumber party with her friends and they hadn't bothered to clean up.
I felt the couch shake. While I scanned the room, I'd stopped scratching Riley, and he pumped his front paws up and down, begging for more. I laughed and went back to work.
Huuuuuuullllllll!
I froze. It sounded like someone was gagging. Riley didn't seem to notice. It was odd, since his little radar ears usually perked up at anything unusual.
Huuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
That time the noise ended in a painfully scratchy croak. More silence, then the punched-in-the-stomach sound came again, this time followed by a splash.
Now I got it. I winced and hoped that someone was actually sick, since the alternative was that Trista's sister or one of her friends was already making herself throw up at age twelve. I probably would have to tell Trista tomorrow. She should know.
I heard the sink running and several moments later heard the k.n.o.b turn. I considered hiding just to save the kid some embarra.s.sment, but that didn't seem right. She should be aware someone knew, especially if I planned to say something to Trista. I pulled the blanket tighter around myself and watched as the door opened and a figure dressed in a bulky, knee-length sweats.h.i.+rt padded out. She was hunched over and looking down. A curtain of lank chestnut hair obscured her face.
Then she lifted her head.
I gasped. I couldn't help it.
"Trista?"
At the sound of my voice, Trista snapped up to her full height and her red, watery eyes and nose flared as they focused in on me. It was like I'd unleashed a demon from h.e.l.l.
"Are you spying on me?"
"No, I-"
"You've been plotting, haven't you? You've been looking for something to use against me. You came here on purpose because you knew!"
"No!"
"I swear, if you say one word about this to anyone-anyone- Ree-Ree, Brett, a-ny-one, I will destroy you. Remember how quickly I made you one of us? That's how fast I can make you the biggest pariah Chrysella has ever known. You're nothing without me, Cara Leonard. You're no one. You're dirt. You need me."
Wow. Here I'd been about to tell Trista I would never dream of using this against her because she was my friend, and her first instinct was to destroy me. And I'd thought Eddie and I were friends, too, but he was only using me. I'd even thought Nate and I had had a real connection, but that turned out to be a complete disaster.
And Archer? My supposed best-friend-outside-of-Claudia? What was that he'd called me? Oh, yes. Gross. He'd said I was gross. Even my parents were a misstep away from turning their backs and disowning me. And what had I done that was so horrible? I'd climbed the Ladder, yes, but I hadn't done it callously. I had done it by finding friends, real friends, people I cared about and who I thought cared about me.
Except they didn't. None of them.
And in that moment, with Trista's fiery vomit-breath burning my face, I realized that my motives didn't matter. If trying to be genuine and make real friends got me to the same place as being a soulless social climber, why open myself up for heartbreak? I had only one step left if I wanted to reach Claudia's goal of Supreme Populazzi and Brett Seward's date for the prom. Twenty-four hours ago-twenty-four minutes ago-I wouldn't have dreamed of deposing my friend and stealing her boyfriend, a guy in whom I had no romantic interest whatsoever.
But now? Now I wanted to do it, just to prove that the girl they all shoved aside and didn't care about could rise up and be queen of the school.
This was the new me, and I'd start living her life right now by grabbing the golden opportunity Trista was presenting me.
"Actually, Trista," I said, "you need me. You can destroy me if you want, but then I'll tell everyone your secret, and it sounds like you don't want that."
Her eyes lost focus for a moment. I was sure she'd expected me to cower and grovel, but I wasn't playing that anymore.
"So what are you saying?" she asked. "What do you want?"
"I want to be you."
"You can't be me; I'm me."
"Not anymore. We're going to switch places."
"Oh, really? How do you think that'll happen?" she asked.
"Basic transition of power. First you'll teach me everything I need to know to be like you. Then I step forward, while you fall back into the shadows."
"I don't do the shadows. No one would believe it if I tried. They also wouldn't believe you as me."
"That's not true. People can change their opinions of people pretty easily. I've seen it happen. If you and I both act like we've switched places, everyone else will follow."
Trista shook her head. "I can't teach you to be me."
"Really? You taught me to be me. You had all kinds of rules for how to be part of your group: what I could say, what I could do, what I could wear ... It makes me think you'd have a set of rules for yourself, too. Things you do that keep you in charge."
Trista fixed me with a flat-eyed glare, but I didn't care. I stared right back. I gave her nothing.
She sat on the couch and I knew I had her.
"So either I go with this ... or you tell everyone what you saw."
"Exactly."
She called Riley onto her lap and thought about it as she scratched his chest.
"Fine," she said. "It's a deal."
Chapter Thirty-One.
It's amazing how time flies when you turn off your heart. The whole month of March seemed to zip by in a blur. Little Shop of Horrors went up that first week, but I played sick when the rest of the Populazzi went to see it. It was bad enough that Archer and Sue kissed and held hands in the halls all the time; watching them fall in love onstage would have made me ill.
March brought spring weather, which was unusual. I still needed a jacket to be comfortable outside, and with every breeze came a whiff of arctic chill, but it was nice enough for the Populazzi hangout to s.h.i.+ft from The Heap back outside to the Oak. The first time I climbed into its branches, I couldn't help but peek at the windows of the main building and remember my first day, when I could only stare out, awed and intimidated.
I thought about my time with Nate, too-how I could always see the Oak from his rock. I'd never figured out exactly why he'd gone so crazy after we broke up. The madness hadn't lasted after I'd gotten together with Eddie. For all of Nate's outsider mystique, I guess not even he messed with the Populazzi.
But I was curious, so one day when we were all at the Oak after lunch, I climbed to a high branch and looked down at the rock. I could see Nate there, sitting and playing guitar like always, but now some other girl was perched by his side. It took me a minute to recognize her as Dinah, one of the Theater Geeks. It wasn't the distance that made her so hard to pick out, it was her look. I couldn't believe it-she had dyed her dirty-blond hair bright red and wore buckets of eyeliner and an outfit she could easily have retrieved from Mom and Karl's haul to Goodwill.
I wondered if Archer had told her she was gross. I doubted it.
I shook out my head of finally-returned-to-normal curls and shrugged. If Nate and Dinah made each other happy, more power to them.
As for myself, I wasn't looking for happiness. I was looking for results. To the casual observer, nothing in my life had changed after the winter formal. I was still Eddie's girlfriend; I still spent all my time with the Populazzi; I still went to The Hang after school and on weekends; Sat.u.r.day night was still club night. It all looked exactly the same.
Only now I was Trista's protegee. Whenever we could, usually late at night, we slipped away from the other girls and the guys and into the bas.e.m.e.nt of the main house so she could feed me her pearls of Supreme Populazzi wisdom.
"Become Supreme Populazzi with help from the Supreme Populazzi," Claudia had marveled when I'd told her the whole story. "It's Machiavellian. It's brilliant."
I said I'd wait to accept that label until the technique had actually worked, but I did feel good about the plan.
"No secrets," Trista reminded me during one of our sessions. "I always say that, and it's the most important thing you need to know."
"But you have secrets."
"Because I'm at the top ... for now. If you want to be at the top, you'll keep your secrets to yourself but know everyone else's," she said. "Gemma, Ree-Ree, and Kristie wouldn't dream of going against me because I have too much dirt on them."
"And because they're your friends."
Trista looked at me blankly. "What do you mean?"
"They wouldn't do anything against you because they're your friends."