Scene 1 #3
This is one of her theories. Charlie is full of theories.
She has a theory about everything. For instance, she believes firmly that you can only change your hair once over the course of high school.
Olivia chopped all hers off when she broke up with Taylor, and Charlie told her she had used up her reinvention.
“I hope he was worth it,” I remember her saying.
“I’m psyched.” I force my face into a smile and slip the lip gloss out from under her fingers.
Charlie sighs and turns onto the highway. “Come on. I’m serious. You should be psyched. Me and Jake, you and Rob, Olivia and Ben.” She swallows after she says “Ben,” like she has a bad taste in her mouth. “We’re so ruling school this year.”
Another one of Charlie’s theories is that we live in a high school movie.
Olivia seems to think this is true too. What I mean is that they can say things like “We’re so ruling school” and not feel the need to add sarcasm.
I guess we are popular. Charlie is formidable, engaging in a way that makes her feared and loved.
Olivia, on the other hand, is basically the high school dream girl.
Big boobs, cute nose, and good-natured. There is literally no guy in school who isn’t in love with her.
Plus, her parents have more money than God.
Her dad does something in the music industry.
He’s a producer or a record label owner.
I think maybe both. To be honest, sometimes I’m not sure how I ended up in this mix.
Which is why being friends with Rob has always felt so good.
He’s popular, sure—he’s probably the most popular guy in our class—but he’s also just Rob.
I don’t have to pretend around him or think about what I’m going to say next.
Not that I do with Charlie or Olivia, but sometimes it feels like we’re all—all three of us—in some kind of play.
Like we need to get our lines right. Like the whole performance is depending on it.
It is really absolute garbage sometimes being a girl.
“Want to hear about Len Stephens?” Charlie asks. “He’s already being kicked out of school.”
Len Stephens is this guy in our class we don’t hang out with. Charlie calls him “toxic,” but most people just call him an ass. He’s sarcastic, and his hair is too long and messy, like he cuts it himself or something.
“School hasn’t even started.”
“Apparently he pulled senior prank early.”
“What did he do?”
“Reorganized the online system so that it deleted every student transcript.”
“No way.”
“Swear.” Charlie puts her hand over her heart like she’s pledging allegiance.
“How is that even possible?”
Charlie shrugs. “He hacked into the school’s computer system.”
The only thing I really know about Len is that he used to take piano lessons before me from this German woman named Famke.
I think I stopped in the sixth grade or something, and I guess he probably did too.
That was around the time most people got serious with sports or dance and dropped other hobbies.
I thought he was pretty good, but then again I used to think tube tops were cute, so what did I know?
“Whatever,” Charlie says, moving on. “Let’s talk about Jake.”
“So you guys are back together?” I look out the window at the passing trees.
It’s not that I don’t care about Charlie’s love life.
I do, of course. It’s just that no one moment in time is very indicative of their overall relationship.
If she’s with Jake today, it doesn’t mean she will be tomorrow.
Or even by the time we get to school, for that matter.
They have this very strange relationship.
Charlie likes to act like it’s all heartbreaking and disturbed.
Like they can’t be together even though they really want to.
Honestly, I don’t see the obstacles. Unless the fact that he wears baseball caps a lot and calls everyone “dude” is an obstacle.
Which maybe, it is. They broke up because he called her “bro” at prom last year, and then they didn’t speak for a week.
They’ve been casual all summer, but an official reunion doesn’t surprise me.
Mostly I think they hit so many speed bumps because Charlie likes injecting drama so her boyfriend doesn’t seem so basic.
And what is more dramatic, really, than heartbreak?
“Totally,” she says. “He came over last night and said he wanted this year to be different.” Jake has said he wants things to be different about forty-two times in the last year and a half, so I take this with a grain of salt.
“Cool.”
“I’m serious, Rose. I think it’s going to work out this time.” I glance over at her, and her face looks set, determined. Celebratory, even. Which, if you know Charlie, makes a lot of sense. Deciding to do something and doing it are basically the same thing in her world.
“That’s great,” I chirp. “Super.” I try to sound excited, but Charlie sees right through it.
“How am I supposed to work with you this year if you’re going to be all mopey and dreary-eyed?” She passes me her makeup bag and flips down my visor mirror. “Apply, please. Let’s try to channel some of that ‘fake it till you make it’ energy when we step into that auditorium.”