“Bye, Hallie,” Lucy called over her shoulder as she dragged me off. Hayley stared after us, smoke coming out of her ears and a giant sign sayingdismissedflashing above her head.
I bit back a grin. “Her name’s Hayley,” I told Lucy under my breath.
The perky weapons guru nodded. “I know,” she said, her voice never losing its cheerfulness.
She’d called Hayley the wrong name on purpose, just to get under her skin. Was it wrong that I found that kind of mind game suddenly endearing?
“Situation averted?” Brooke arched a single eyebrow at me with the question.
Lucy nodded. “Totally.”
Brooke looked at me and then looked at an empty seat at their table. I could almost imagine the chair the way it would have appeared in a Hollywood movie: shining and bursting with light, the equivalent of a social throne. In the movie, there’d probably be some sort of majestic music playing in the background.
The thought of it all made me sick. I refused to be that girl. You know the one—the dorky girl with glasses who’s secretly beautiful and gets adopted by the popular people and turned into a shiny, sparkly person just like they are. Excuse me while I hurl.
So when I reluctantly took my seat, I stared at my shoes, reminding myself that this was who I was. I wasn’t glittery tube tops. I was Salvation Army combat boots, and I liked it that way.
“Chip, this is Toby. Toby, this is Chip.”
I didn’t even look up to see who had made the introduction. I knew who Chip was. He was a rich-boy football player who was also our student body president (to Lucy’s vice president, if that tells you anything). He was the guy in the movie who would fall for the newly It-ed It Girl.
“Heya, Chip,” I said, slouching down in my chair.
Brooke kicked my shin hard under the table.
“Do you want to ruin everything?”her voice asked in my ear.
I noticed immediately that her lips hadn’t visibly moved and that no one else had heard her.
“Earpiece.”Her in-my-ears voice answered the unasked question.“It’s in your hair ribbon. I have the microphone in my tongue ring.”
The fact that she had a tongue ring took me by surprise. She struck me as more of the belly-button type.
“Look, I’m turning this thing off so I can eat, but for the love of Gucci, flirt with Chip. You have to be above suspicion, and that means you have to be just like the rest of us. Or do you want to blow our whole operation and compromise the safety of the free world?”
That seemed a little melodramatic to me, but all things said and done, I was still dealing with cheerleaders here, so I figured I’d probably need to get used to the drama.
“Toby totally has a thing for jocks.” Chloe, shooting me the evil eye, flirted with Chip on my behalf.
Yeah, I thought. I have a thing for kicking them where it hurts.
“Does she now?” Another male slid into the seat next to me. I didn’t recognize his voice, but something about his presence felt familiar.
“Oh, you know me,” I said, prompted by another under-the-table shin kick.
“No,” the boy said blandly. “I don’t. Should I?”
He was exactly the kind of arrogant, pompous, gorgeous ass I normally tried to avoid. Heavy on the gorgeous.
“Everyone knows Toby,” Zee said, tossing her shiny black hair over her shoulder. Watching the hair toss, it was hard to believe that the psychological profiler and the school’s numero uno “exotic hottie” were one and the same person.
Then again, it was hard to believe that I was one “Go Lions” away from being the school’s most boo combat-boot-wearing, European, Hollywood offspring of Calvin Klein. I rolled with the punches.
“Everyone knows me.” I repeated Zee’s words, and then couldn’t resist pulling Mr. Gorgeous’s chain. “Who the hell are you?”
This time, I dodged the shin kick with a microsecond to spare.
“Well, Everyone-Knows-Toby,” the boy said, addressing me. “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”
