Chapter 19
Nineteen
Is this Callie’s weird revenge plan? What is up with her lately?
Text message from Noah Rossi to Brielle Williams.
I hand out another button that says, “Vote for Callie,” a smile plastered to my face.
My cheeks are aching. My bookbag is stuffed full of buttons, and I’m handing them out to everyone who passes through the school common area.
I’m surprised and pleased how many people who I would’ve labeled “nerd” and thought wouldn’t care about Homecoming royalty take a button and promises to vote.
The common area is an open room where students stand and chat or pass through to get to their classes.
It’s the perfect spot for me to reach a lot of people.
Right now, it’s pretty packed as people head to the cafeteria, eat lunch at the tables and cushy green chairs scattered around the room, or stand in groups chatting.
“Thanks, Callie!” Shannon Moore, a short girl with vibrant red hair, takes a button. “I’ll definitely vote for you.”
“There’s a QR code to take you to the website right there,” I say, pointing to the badge. “Thanks so much for your support! We have History together, right?”
“Right!” Shannon smiles. “I didn’t even know you saw me.”
“Of course I did,” I say. “Your hair is so gorgeous, it stands out in a crowd.”
Shannon’s face turns the same shade as her hair. “Thank you.” She pauses. “I noticed you’ve been hanging out with Zeke Harris.” The tomato-red shade on her cheeks deepens. “He’s cute.”
Now it’s my turn to flush. “You think so?” I smile to a passing freshman boy and hand him a badge. He takes it with a wave and moves on. “He’s super nice, too.”
“I don’t know him very well,” Shannon says, fidgeting with the badge. I wish she would take out her phone and scan my nifty code. “But he does seem nice. I never thought that someone like you would hang out with someone like him.”
I stiffen. “Zeke is my friend.” Did that come out sounding too defensive?
Shannon finally pins the badge to her lime green hoodie. “Maybe you could tell him you think I’m cool or something?” All of that comes out in a big rush before Shannon hurries away, her face the shade of red velvet cake.
I hand out another badge to a girl with a high blonde ponytail passing by. “Vote for Callie!” She takes it and smiles.
I see Zeke out of the corner of my eye, and my breath catches. Shannon wasn’t wrong; he is more than cute. His curly black hair looks soft, and I wish I could run my fingers through it. His brown eyes, oh man. Better than chocolate chip cookies.
Whoa. What was that train of thought? Mentally I give myself a shake.
Zeke strides across the common room with a confident smile, and his face lights up when he sees me.
It does something funny to my insides. It’s strange how much seeing Zeke’s face warms my heart.
And when I saw Noah at cheer practice yesterday—the football team was practicing on the field behind us—it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.
Brielle even gave him a kiss on the lips that turned into a make out session that our respective coaches had to break up, and I felt . . . nothing.
Heads glance from me—a girl in blushing pink heels, skinny jeans, and a Prada rose sweater—to him, confusion plain on their faces.
Zeke’s wearing another Star Trek themed t-shirt and carrying an armload of thick fantasy books.
I catch a glimpse of the titles—The Wheel of Time, Stormlight Archives, Assassinn’s Apprentice. Um. Wow.
Zeke doesn’t seem to notice everyone watching us. “Callie! How goes the button passing?”
I show him my nearly empty bookbag with just a few lone voting badges in the bottom. “Great! People seemed to like them.”
I’m grinning from ear to ear. This morning when I checked the website, I had passed Brielle. She was at two hundred and fifty votes, and I was at three hundred and twenty-five.
This is almost too easy.
Mom is going to be there at Homecoming. Besides our early morning workouts, I’ve barely seen her since school started. I want her to see me win so badly. I can picture me with the crown on my head. I can see Mom’s face in the audience, lighting up in a smile.
“How did your math test go?” Zeke shifts his armload of books.
“Do you need help with those books?”
Zeke moves from side to side to keep the stack from tipping. “I was just going to drop them off at my locker before I head to lunch.”
I sling my bookbag over my shoulder and hold out my arms. Zeke gives me half of the books, and we walk down the hallway toward his locker. Dang, these books are heavy. I’m grateful for all the bicep curls Mom has made me do.
“Why so many books?” I ask.
We arrive at Zeke’s locker and he shifts the books to one arm to twist in the combination. “Well, if I finish one, I want to make sure I have another. But what if one is boring, and I DNF it, so then I need another—”
“DNF?”
“‘Did not finish’. Though I seriously doubt any of these are going to be DNF’s for me. I love all of these authors.”
After shelving the books, I reach into my backpack and pull out the test I’m excited to show Zeke.
“Is that your math test? Did you get an A+? 100%?” Zeke asks, closing his locker. His books barely fit inside.
“No!” I smile. “Even better.”
I hold up my test, full of the toughest calculus problems I’ve solved yet, and show Zeke my B+.
Zeke’s face falls. “Callie, what . . .?”
“It’s perfect!” I say. “I was able to solve them all and get just enough wrong that my score is exactly what I wanted it to be.” I check around.
Luckily, most people are at lunch, and there are only a couple of girls leaning against lockers on the opposite side of the hallway, not paying attention to us. No one’s close enough to overhear.
“Uhhh . . . that’s great?” Zeke tries to smile as he hands the test back to me.
“What?” My good mood falls slightly. “I got exactly what I wanted. I get to stay on the cheer team with a B+, and no one knows that I’m . . .”
Zeke looks at me, compassion on his face. “Callie, why don’t you want anyone to know you’re good at math?”
I swallow. “I can’t be labeled a . . .”
“Nerd?” Zeke crosses his arms over his chest. “Like me?”
“No! You’re not—you’re cool—you’re . . .” I don’t know what I was about to say. I don’t know why I was excited to show Zeke my score. Maybe because I solved all the problems correctly to know how many to miss. Maybe because I knew I could’ve gotten 100% if I wanted to.
“He’s what?”
I jump at the voice and turn to see the girl with the black pigtails—done up in panda buns today, like two death-by-chocolate cupcakes on her head—standing in the hallway with her arms crossed.
Her eyelids are heavily made up in eyeliner and vibrant blue eyeshadow.
A lanky boy with pale blond hair and a shorter girl wearing cut off overalls stand behind her.
“Hi,” I say brightly.
The girl just raises one eyebrow.
“Callie,” Zeke says. “I’d like you to meet Emma, Taylor, and Tina.” Tina—the girl giving off farm vibes—gives a small wave and blushes deeply behind a wall of acne. Taylor, the tall boy with a slightly too-large nose, won’t meet my eyes. Emma—the bubblegum chewing panda—just stares at me.
I turn to Zeke, surprised. “How do you know them?”
Zeke shrugs. “Emma is a gamer.”
Emma chomps on her gum. “We all know what you’re trying to do, Callie.”
I stiffen, clutching my wrinkled math test. “What—what do you mean?”
“The only reason you’re hanging out with Zeke and smiling at us is to make us think you’re one of us. To get votes.” Emma rolls her eyes.
Tina averts her gaze. Taylor flaps his hands in front of his face and says, “You shall not pass.”
“He loves Lord of the Rings,” Zeke whispers.
I don’t get it, but I don’t ask for clarification.
“We can see straight through your pretty, perfect act,” Emma says. Her gum pops with a snap. “You don’t really care about us.”
“That’s—that’s—” I’m about to say that’s not true, but I can’t get the words out.
“Callie’s not like that,” Zeke says, and my heart warms. “She really cares.”
Emma studies me intensely. “Prove it.”
“Umm . . .” What do I do here? Emma’s partially right, and guilt makes my stomach squirm. A crazy idea comes to my head, and I act on it before I can think better.
“Come with me to Brielle Williams’ party,” I say.
Emma’s chewing freezes, and Tina stares at me. Taylor continues to flap his hands and rock back and forth.
“I mean it,” I say. “It’s the party of the year, and it’s a lot of fun.” Despite who throws it, I don’t add.
“Can you even do that?” Emma asks. “It’s not your party.”
“Brielle lets people invite their friends,” I say. “I . . . I want you to come with me. It’s time to change things at our school, to push down the wall between all our groups. That’s what I really want, Emma. Will you help me do it?”
Emma watches me, her expression unreadable. “We’ll think about it.” Her voice sounds like she’s softened, but maybe I’m just imagining it.
Oh wow. What have I done?
I hear a cry of outrage behind me, and I whirl to see Brielle with Katrina close behind. Brielle places her phone in her cross-body bag with a sneer. I can only guess that she was checking the voting site, and pride flits through my stomach.
Brielle pointedly ignores me; instead she giggles and points at Taylor. “What’s wrong with him?”
My mouth drops open, and fury burns within me. “How dare you say that?” I say, stepping between Taylor and Brielle. “There’s nothing wrong with him. Brielle, you are such a—a—”
“Fool of a Took!” Taylor says.
Brielle steps closer, fire in her eyes. “What?”
“Let’s go, Callie.” Zeke takes my arm and leads me toward the lunchroom. I shove the test into my backpack and follow him, but I can feel Brielle’s eyes on my back.
Emma looks outraged, but she gives me a nod when we walk by, so that’s something. She takes Taylor by the arm and pulls her friends away.
“Zeke, what an adorable shirt,” Brielle says. “My grandpa has one just like it.”
Zeke freezes, and I want to urge him on, to spare him from Brielle’s acid.
“Shut up, Brielle.” I pull Zeke away without a better comeback.
“You’re ahead for now, Callie!” Brielle calls. “But it’s not going to last.”