All's Fair in Love, War and High School by Janette Rallison

Author:Janette Rallison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Published: 2009-09-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The next day at school was a trip to misery. Every time I walked down the halls, every time I sat at a desk, I felt the weight of a hundred stares on me. I told myself I was imagining it. Not everyone was watching me, not everyone was wondering about my intelligence.

Maybe.

Only a few people actually mentioned the flyers to me. Each time someone brought up the subject, I just shook my head like I thought it was funny and said, "Where do people come up with these rumors? Next they'll be saying I'm an undercover FBI agent watching for terrorist groups."

Whomever I was talking to would laugh, and then I'd say, "Just between you and me, the cafeteria ladies are scheming to take over the world."

More laughter. I'd join in. It's amazing how your face can do that while you want to cry.

I went from class to class and paid perfect attention to my teachers. I not only wanted to look studious, I wanted to be studious. I wanted to ace the SAT next time around and then photocopy the results and stick them to everyone's windshields; then we'd see if people ever believed Mr. Skinny E's again.

After lunch the principal called Amy, Rick, and me into the office to discuss the unsportsmanlike campaigning that had gone on the day before. She eyed Rick up and down from behind her desk with a dark expression. "If I knew for certain who made those flyers about Samantha and tore Amy's posters down, I'd disqualify him"—she snapped her fingers—"just like that. So whoever did it had better be watching himself very carefully, or he might just find himself out of the race and out of school." Then she glared at Rick again. It was enough to almost make me feel sorry for him. Almost.

We all swore we had nothing to do with any of it and promised to be model candidates. She let us go back to class.

Finally the day ended. I made it through all seven hours without bloodshed or a nervous breakdown. I was at my locker congratulating myself on this fact when Cassidy appeared beside me. She wore a pale blue sweatshirt and jeans. Chelsea would have called it simple, bland, and uncreative; and yet Cassidy still looked as though she'd just stepped out of an Ivory Soap commercial.

I hated girls who didn't struggle to be beautiful, and still were.

Cassidy leaned against the locker next to mine, holding a couple of textbooks against her chest, and nervously fingered the paper that stuck out of them. "Hi, Samantha."

"Hi."

She cleared her throat and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I just wanted you to know that Amy didn't make those flyers about you."

"Oh?" I shoved the last of my books into my backpack. "And why would you think I suspected her?"

She leaned in closer to my locker and lowered her voice. "Logan told me you thought I'd told Amy your test scores."

"Logan told you?" Great. Not only was he the thorn in my side but he had also become my publicist.

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