“You don’t feel bad about getting the principal fired?”
“Why would I?” She pouts. “He took advantage of a young girl.”
Sheisa good actor. I actually believed her, but only for a second.
“Let’s get out of here.” She flips her hair as the wind blows her perfume my way. It’s a strong, flowery scent that makes me cough.
“Peyton, I told you, I’m staying here.”
“You can’t waste this. You have to build on the momentum.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your celebrity status. Hitting Kristen got you attention. Now you have to keep it by being in their faces. Flaunting it.”
“I don’t want to flaunt it. I didn’t even mean to do it.”
She turns me toward her and looks me in the eye. “Popularity lesson number one. Never admit your celeb status was an accident. Make them think it was intentional. We all want to be at the top, but few people have the guts to do what it takes to get there.”
“I don’t want to be popular because I hit someone.”
“And I didn’t plan on my fame being because I went down on an older man to get my grades fixed. But it happened, and I owned it. I let it take me to the top.” She lowers her voice. “It doesn’t matter if you fuck a teacher or punch the principal’s daughter. They’ll all get you to the top faster than driving the right car or wearing the right clothes. Those tactics are child’s play. You’re in the big leagues now, where shock value wins over pretty designer clothes. That’s why nobody respects Kristen. She’s only popular because of who her dad is. She hasn’t done anything to earn it.”
“You’re saying you have to punch someone or sleep with someone to be popular around here?”
Her shiny pink lips turn up. “I’m saying you do what it takes to get their attention. Then you do what it takes to keep it.”
My phone dings, and when I go to check it, Peyton grabs it from me.
“Give it to me,” I say, trying to take it.
She holds it away from me. “Who’s Burt?”
I jump up and grab the phone from her. “Don’t fucking take my phone!”
“Or what?” She laughs. “You’ll punch me?”
“It’s possible,” I say, unlocking my phone to read Jackson’s text. Why is he texting me during the game? I hope he didn’t get hurt.
Miss you, the text reads.Need to see you tonight.
“Who’s the guy?” Peyton asks.
“No one.”
“If he misses you, he’s not no one.”
“Stop reading my texts!” I shove my phone in my back pocket. “It was a guy from back home. A friend.”
“I thought you were from New York.”
“I am.”
“How is he going to see you tonight from New York?”
I glare at her. “I’m seriously considering punching you.”
“Here.” She puts her face in front of me. “Make sure it’s in the nose. I’ve been begging my parents for a nose job, but they refuse. Break my nose and they’ll have to get me a new one.”
